IMS, where Neeru got down.
‘Bye-bye beautiful,’ I waved my hand.
‘Byeeee,’ she sang in her sweetest voice and reminded me, ‘Bring me a ton of chocolates from the US.’
‘I will, for sure,’ I replied.
She then walked towards her destination and we moved towards ours—the hotel I was staying in, in Delhi. This part of the plan even Neeru didn’t know about. All she was told by her sister was that we were going to watch a movie. A double-cross!
Khushi, again, touched my heart with this. I was happy seeing her excitement and satisfaction matching mine. My love had cooked up a story to spend time with her prince charming. (Oh, yes! I was given that title by my princess, that evening.) I appreciated her guts and her willingness to be with me. After all, she was the one who lied and planned things. The eagerness in her, to spend a few more moments with me, an evening … The trust she showed in me that day created an intangible bond between our hearts.
I turned towards her and saw that beautiful innocent face glowing with happiness. I was sitting by her side and it was like being in a beautiful dream. Yes, I know what was happening was all real. Yet, it was so magical. Even the air that surrounded us in the cab was different. I felt great and was glad that she was mine and I was with her. And, at that point of time, I never knew she was going to give me the best hour of my life.
At about 6 p.m. that evening, we reached my hotel. Before we got down, I asked the cabdriver to be back by 7.30 so that I could drop her home by 8.45 or so. According to the plan, her class at IMS was to last till 8.30 that evening.
Walking up the staircase of the hotel I felt a different feeling. I found myself among a different section of my friends. Friends who possessed a girlfriend, with whom they hung out in their cars, took them out to dinner, or maybe to a disco or a movie. Maybe their girlfriends had to lie to their families too, just like mine. I don’t know why I never felt that way earlier. Khushi had been in my life for a couple of months by then. But I guess her presence in front of me was making me see myself in that class of my friends. And, to be honest, seeing myself in that category was exciting. With her in my life, the world appeared so good to me.
Walking together, we reached room 301 once again. I handed over the keys of the room to her—I wanted her to open my room.
We entered and I switched on the light. My room was a little messy, with many things dumped on the bed—the empty water bottle, a T-shirt, my cellphone’s charger and hands-free set all tangled up with each other, the bed sheet half on the bed and half on the floor and some of my official, but not-so-important documents underneath my pillow.
‘Sorry for this mess. I thought the hotel people would do this,’ I said, rubbing my hand behind my neck.
She smiled, probably recalling how I used to boast that I was a neat and tidy guy. She could now see that with her own eyes.
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ I said and went to the washroom to wash my tired and oily face.
When I came out, two or three minutes later, I saw something which pleased me immensely. My room had been tidied up in those few minutes. From my bed, the things had returned to their proper places. The T-shirt in the closet, the charger wrapped and placed beside the TV on the TV set, the empty water-bottle in the dustbin, the official papers all piled up on the table beside the bed.
And who did that? Of course, it was the real neat and tidy person in that room.
Wow! Now that’s what being with a girl is. I felt this for the very first time. This is what is called a woman’s touch. This is why we keep hearing, ‘Men build houses, but women make homes.’ And now I had found one such woman.
A little later, we were sitting on the bed, with our feet in the channel between the two beds. On my laptop we were watching a dance video in which I had performed some time ago. It was a cultural festival back at Infosys. She was so excited to see me dancing and kept saying that if she happened to get on board at Infy, we will perform together at the next cultural meet. With those glittering eyes, she kept looking at the laptop’s screen. And I kept looking at her …
I am still not sure what was so beautiful about the side of her neck, underneath her ear, to which her long earring was drawing my attention. I stared at her neck and I stared at it some more. Her beauty was trapping my senses. And my senses were freezing every second. She was still watching that video when I came very close to her neck and, without uttering a single thing, I kissed her there.
I did not see her expression then, as I was still feeling her neck and the sweet smell of her body. This happened in no time and she was not in a condition to react either. When she gained her senses in a while, she responded by raising her face, letting me get to her neck, beneath her chin, and I went ahead, kissing each and every cell of hers. Our eyes were closed. I grabbed her in my arms, felt her arms stiffening and gripping tightly the corner of my shirt, her voice expressing what she felt.
The video on my laptop was still running, but it failed to interrupt us.
She almost left herself in my hands. I leaned on her a bit and she leaned on the bed, our feet still touching the ground. She crossed her hands around my neck and my hands were supporting her body. Together we were sliding down, every single second. The kisses and passionate hugs continued till we fell on the bed.
Suddenly, I remembered something. ‘I’ll come in a second, just a single second,’ I whispered in her ear. Her eyes were still closed. And I went and checked and double-locked the room. I switched off our room’s bright light and switched on the washroom’s light allowing it to illuminate our room softly. I did that for a reason which I did not tell her—memories from a movie were bothering me, in which a hidden camera in a hotel room captured a couple.
Then I came back to her. But her eyes were not closed any more. She was staring at me as I walked towards her. Holding her hands in mine I stood by her and looked into the depth of her eyes. And, for the first time, I noticed something different in them. I saw a girl in whose heart fear had entered. Then I realized what caused it. The innocent girl, whom I saw in those eyes, was afraid of being with a guy, especially on his bed, in a closed room, double-locked, which was not even lit properly, but illuminated by a dim light seeping in from the washroom’s open door. She did not say anything, but I saw everything that was going through her mind at that instant.
‘Shona …’ she said, and I gently whispered ‘Ssshhh!’ and placed my hand upon her lips, not allowing her to speak. I ran my palm across her forehead and very gently closed her eyes once more, my fingers flowing on her eyelashes. Then I said to her, very softly, ‘You know what? I won’t do anything which our conscience and values don’t allow. I just can’t. For the simple reason that I love you. I know my limits and I promise nothing will happen to make you feel uncomfortable, nothing that you will regret later. I promise … Just be with me in this moment.’ And my angel wrapped me in her arms, pulling me closer to her.
‘Shona!’ she called my name with such affection. ‘I love you so very much, for everything you do for me.’ I felt her hands crawling on my back. Her fear had disappeared and she was celebrating having me in her arms.
I was lying partly on the bed and partly on her. She was becoming mischievous and I was no different. Neither of us knew when the video in my laptop stopped. But the moment I realized this, without her noticing, I ran my favorite soundtrack’s playlist on my laptop at a low volume, adding to the romantic ambience of the room.
Everything was just perfect—a dimly lit room, light music running in the background, nice bed sheets, and she and I.
I blew upon her eyes, which made her lashes go down further, gently closing her eyes. That wisp of air moved on her forehead from left to right, back to her eyes, then her cute nose, making an irregular figure on her cheeks, scrolling between her lips and riding her chin from where it slid down to her neck and was lost in the air between us. She opened her eyes again. I touched her nose with mine after which I rubbed it against hers
, just like mothers do to their beautiful babies to express their love. She, too, was a beautiful baby. My baby. She smiled with that mischievous shyness.
What a beautiful moment that was! And, of course, I had to make it a memorable one, and how could that be without a kiss? And that’s why, in no time, I thought of so many things to make it a perfect kiss … I’ll do this … I’ll do that … I will embrace her this way, hold her face that way … and then … So much planning for a kiss. And, then, I went for it.
Soon, our faces were close to each other, slightly tilted at opposite angles, our warm breaths falling on each other’s lips. My lips touched hers. I kissed her. And I kissed her again.
I don’t remember when I closed my eyes and I was lost in her. That moment was a heaven that I knew for the first time in my life. In that moment, I forgot everything, forgot everything that I had planned a few minutes back. Forgot even the fact that I had planned something. Forgot that the next day I was to leave this country. Forgot my job, the CAT exam, forgot my friends and my family. Forgetting everything, I lived that one moment … The best hour of my life.
I don’t remember whether I opened my eyes first, or she did. But we were looking into each other’s eyes.
I was still lying on her.
She smiled, I smiled.
She blinked her eyes, I blinked mine.
Kissing my forehead one more time, she said, ‘I love you soooooooooo much, Shona.’
And I rubbed my nose against hers one more time and repeated, ‘I love you so so so so much, sweetheart.’
We had been so busy with our romance that we forgot to look at the time. We had asked the cab driver to be there at the hotel entrance by
7.30. The wall clock in front of me said it was 8.30. ‘Uh-oh! Do you know what time it is?’ I asked, very casually, smiling. She immediately looked at the clock. And then she screamed, just like the way she did the day before.
‘EIGHT THIRTY????’
And with that, she got up from the bed, panicked, rushed here and there grabbing her belongings, her cell, her purse, her sandals … and a lot more. I switched on the lights to help her.
She then rushed to the washroom, splashed a little water on her face, used the spare towel hanging behind the door, pulled a comb out of her purse, got her hair done, pulled out a lipstick and daubed it on her lips.
Watching her, I wondered how much lipstick I had swallowed and I laughed at myself without saying anything. As she was getting ready, I picked up her purse. ‘Boy! Seems like a magical purse. So many things are coming out of it—comb, lipstick, hanky … Let me see what else is left in this,’ I said laughing.
And at that very moment, she slapped my hand which was trying to unzip the purse. ‘Bad manners! A boy should never check a girl’s purse.’ ‘But, why? Do you girls carry bombs in your purses?’ I said handing it over. ‘Even at my office, they have appointed a lady at the gate to check the purses of all the girls. I wonder what funny things those girls show her in their purses … they smile looking at her and then she smiles back at them.’ I laughed at my joke, but she didn’t.
She was worried about getting late. I noticed that and, parking my lavish laughter somewhere, tried to console her with a smile, ‘It’s ok, Khushi. Relax. We’ll reach your place before 10 p.m. Don’t worry, dear.’
Wearing her sandals, she said, ‘Shona, if we don’t reach on time and they find out at home, na, I’ll be in big trouble.’
Seeing her in this state I went close to her and put my hands on her shoulders. ‘Khushi. Everything is going to be fine. No matter what, you won’t be in any trouble. I promise. Will you trust me now?’ I gently asked her.
And very innocently she nodded her head.
‘Take a deep breath, have a sip of water and we will move out.’
A few minutes later we were in the back-seat of our cab.
‘Bhaiyya, back to Faridabad, from where we came,’ Khushi said to the driver, in haste.
But, as we found out when we came out of the hotel, it had rained heavily during the past hour. Water was flushing down from the corners of the roofs of nearby buildings, rattling down pipes from various floors to the common ground. Manholes on the roads were open to let the accumulated water on the streets drain out.
Our cab started rolling.
‘Bhaiyya, how long will it take?’ she asked the driver.
‘Kuch keh nahin sakte, madam. Bahut baarish hui hai. Bus aagey road pe kahin jam na laga ho.’
The thought of a possible traffic jam worried her all the more. She looked at me. And I told her to relax. ‘I am there with you, right? So why are you worried? We’ll reach on time.’
Hearing my tone, the driver too realized that he should not scare her. In fact, he added, ‘Madam, ghabraane waali to koi baat hi nahin hai. Hum pahunch jaayenge.’
But soon we found ourselves in trouble. About fifteen minutes from my hotel we got stuck in a traffic jam—probably the biggest I have ever seen in my life. There were hundreds of cars in front of us, I’m sure. A horrible jam. Water rushed over the roads towards the drains. Everything out there was wet. The shops were closing; their wet shutters were rolling down. The cars, big and small, struggled to find their way. None of the vehicles on that road stayed in line. Everyone was on their own, finding a little space for themselves, competing with each other because of which no one was able to move ahead. What a mess!
‘A truck’s engine has failed to start, half a kilometer ahead,’ we heard, when our driver rolled his window down. Hearing this, almost everyone switched off their engines. Inside our cab, the mercury of panic and helplessness was rising.
Half an hour after the most wonderful time together in my hotel room, we were now entering a phase full of anxiety and despair. With me was a girl who had lied to her family and managed to escape with me. Apart from her office, she had never stayed out so late at any other place. But that day, she was in another state and the guy she had put all her trust in (of course, me) was not familiar with the city. And time … Time was running fast in my wrist watch, but stood stagnant when I glanced at the traffic around us. Fifteen minutes passed and our cab did not move an inch. It would be wrong to say that I was not panicking. But I was aware of my responsibilities. I was responsible for Khushi’s safety.
Eventually, our cab driver also switched off the cab’s engine which raised the already high levels of anxiety within us still higher. Somehow, a running engine in a traffic jam still appears more hopeful than a switched-off one. Of course, it’s all psychological but, unfortunately, it made an impact on both of us.
And since it never just rains, but it pours—Khushi’s cellphone started ringing.
She looked at me in fear. I looked at my watch. It was close to 9 p.m.
‘What if it’s Mumma’s phone?’ she asked, worried and all I could say was, ‘First see who’s calling.’
She opened her purse and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank God! It’s Neeru.’
She put the phone on speaker. Clearing her throat and recovering her strength (which she lost when she heard the ring), she said, ‘Neeru.’
‘Where are you, yaar?’ Neeru asked.
‘Yaar, we’re stuck in a traffic jam.’
‘But you’re in Faridabad only na?’
‘Haan baba … We went to see a movie. Meanwhile it rained heavily and all the water on the road has caused a traffic jam and we’re stuck.’
‘Theek hai, but come home quickly. I have reached home and have told Mumma that your doubt class got delayed and you’ll reach here in another twenty–thirty minutes.’
‘Thanks. We’re just waiting for this jam to clear. I’ll be home soon,’ Khushi said and hung up.
Twenty–thirty minutes!? Nobody could drive to Faridabad that fast, even if the roads were completely empty. Even Khushi knew that.
‘Shona, I’m feeling very tense,’ she said, her voice scared and soft.
But obviously we’d be tense. Still, I said, ‘I know dear. But we should
not lose patience. In the worst case, we’ll reach your place a little late, right? Don’t worry. If that happens, I will explain everything to Mumma. Theek hai?’ I tried to console her, raising my hand to move her head close to me so that she could rest on my shoulder.
The next moment we noticed the traffic moving ahead from one corner of the road. Like everyone else, our driver started the engine and followed the herd of the vehicles. A ray of hope brightened our faces.
In a while our driver gave us a reason to bolster our smile. ‘Sahib ab nikal jaayenge aaraam se, jam khul gaya hai. Bas ek baar border cross kar lein. Phir highway theek hai.’
He was referring to the Delhi-Haryana border which we successfully crossed in another 20 minutes. But our destination was still miles away.
Her head was still on my shoulder and I kept talking to her, trying to divert her mind. She was moving her fingers on my palm, drawing imaginary lines, playing like a kid. When she reached my third finger, she started playing with the ring I was wearing. It was an unusual ring with three intersecting silver circles, just like the Olympic circles.
When she asked me about that ring, I took it as an opportunity to divert her from the panic of the moment and started telling her a little story about my ring which became as mysterious as The Lord of the Rings.
‘Aaah!’ I said, as if she had stepped on a broken limb.
‘What happened?’ she asked, raising her head from my shoulder.
‘Nothing,’ I replied very sadly, turning my head to the other side, looking outside the cab’s window.
Surprised by my reaction, she did not say anything but waited for me to speak. And I did, saying, ‘I knew, someday I would have to tell you about this …’
This statement raised her eyebrows and she insisted I tell her everything. I kept looking out of the window and she kept asking me to reveal the story behind it. ‘Bataao na Shona … Tell me please …’
I was killing time. The cab was speeding ahead. And thoughts were running through her mind about the mystery ring on my third finger. More so, because I appeared so reluctant to tell her.