RAVINDER SINGH

Will You Still Love Me

PENGUIN BOOKS
 Contents

One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight

Acknowledgements
Follow Penguin
Copyright
 PENGUIN METRO READS
WILL YOU STILL LOVE ME?

Ravinder Singh is the bestselling author of I Too Had a Love Story, Can Love
Happen Twice?, Like It Happened Yesterday, Your Dreams Are Mine Now
and This Love That Feels Right . . . He has edited two anthologies, Love
Stories That Touched My Heart and Tell Me a Story. After having spent most
of his life in Burla, a very small town in western Odisha, Ravinder is
currentlybased in New Delhi. He ha s an MBA from the renowned Indian
School of Business. His eight-year-long IT career started with Infosys and
came to a happy ending at Microsoft where he worked as a senior programme
manager. One fine day he had an epiphany that writing books is more
interesting than writing project plans. He called it a day at work and took to
full-time writing. He has also started a publishing venture called Black Ink
(www.BlackInkBooks.in) to publish debut authors. Ravinder loves playing
snooker in his free time. He is also crazy about Punjabi music and enjoys
dancing to its beats.
The best way to contact Ravinder is through his official fan page on
Facebook, at www.facebook.com/ThisIsRavinder. You can also reach out to
him on his Twitter handle @_RavinderSingh_and Instagram,
www.instagram.com/ThisIsRavinder.
To my dad, for enduring so much in the aftermath of that road
accident and coming to terms with a life we both knew
wasn’t going to be exactly the same
 Around one lakh fifty thousand people die in road accidents every year in
India.

If a disease would have taken these many lives in a year, it would have been
pronounced an epidemic. And yet, road traffic accidents which continue to
take millions of lives, haven’t been considered an epidemic.

Less than every four minutes, carelessnessclaims a life on our roads. By the
time you finish reading this book it would have claimed a lot many of us.
 One

On a pleasant February afternoon, Rajveer, in a casual white shirt and a pair

of blue denims, walked into an aircraft. Indigo’s flight 6E-464 from Mumbai
to Chandigarh was right on time. At twenty-eight, Rajveer looked every bit
the cut-Surd Punjabi guy—light-brown complexion, moderate height, short,
spiked and gelled hair, trimmed light beard and the shinning kada, the
religious bangle, on his right wrist. All in all, his entire personality and style
were reflective of his genetics. Adding to his charm were his dimples that
deepened as he smiled at the cabin crew to acknowledge their warm ‘hellos’
to him.
‘Hi!’ he said taking off his grey Aviators and walking towards his seat.
Rajveer placed his trolley bag in the overhead compartment of the aircraft
and then settled down; he had a window seat. If there was anything he loved
while travelling, it was the window seat. He had always loved it, since his
childhood, be it on his school bus or on a train, travelling with his family.
While it is understandable how kids love taking the window side, Rajveer’s
obsession with it had lasted longer than it should have. That afternoon as well
he had explicitly asked for one at the check-in counter at the airport because
he could not do a web check-in due to bad Internet connection on his phone.
He was lucky to have got one so late and as he found out, it was the very last
one!
He wanted to feel the thrill of looking out of the window as the plane sped
on the runway. He enjoyed the experience of watching the world inside the
plane shake while the world outside stood still as they raced past. And then
how suddenly it would all come to a rest when the giant machine finally
ascended into the air, defying gravity.
In his mind, Rajveer had built a fascinating little world of his own where
he was still a kid. He would seldom share it with anybody. And in that
traffic accidents, which have continued to take these many lives for decades
now, haven’t been considered an epidemic. Just think!’
Not that they, who are in the auditorium, have never realized the loss of
lives due to accidents on the road, but then somebody talking to them in this
manner makes them think about it a lot more.
‘Every year thousands lose their limbs. Every year lakhs compromise on
the quality of life they lead even if they survive a tragic road accident. But
you know what? While each one of us here agrees that tomorrow we too can
be the victims of road traffic accidents, at the same time each one of us also
in our hearts very strongly believes in the fallacy that—such a thing won’t
happen to me! It can, but it won’t. Far greater than our agreement with CAN,
is our conviction that it WON’T happen. True or not?’
There was again a murmur. Nobody has ever told them things the way
these guys on stage are putting this in perspective for them. It is the approach
with which they are made to look at facts and possibilities that is making a
difference and keeping them interested.
‘On an average, the daily newspapers report at least half a dozen road
accidents in the city. While reading them, did it ever occur to you that you
too could have been in that news and somebody else reading about you? Has
that ever occurred to you?’ He pauses for a couple of seconds, letting people
absorb what he has just said and then picks up from where he has left off.
‘My idea is not to scare you, but share with you a possibility which we
often choose to neglect. The truth is—the victims about whom you read in
newspapers too would have felt the same way, till it happened to them and a
good number of them are no longer here to take action. Nobody prepares and
leaves home with an idea to meet with an accident.’
 Seven

Rajveer sat in the veranda of his house sipping his morning tea. It had been
two days since he had got back with design samples from Mumbai. He was
now clicking pictures of the ones he wanted to place an order for and was
simultaneously forwarding them to his distributors on WhatsApp. This was a
part of his weekly routine. He would discuss the design patterns with his
father and brother, after which he would place the final orders.
Scrolling down the chats page, a display picture caught Rajveer’s attention.
A fair-skinned woman stood wearing a maroon-coloured Patiala suit. It was a
full-length picture, so the face wasn’t clearly visible in the thumbnail. An
unsaved number was mentioned next to it, underneath which the last message
read—Ok☺.
At first, he thought the contact was of a distributor who had put a picture
of a model showcasing a new design in his WhatsApp profile. When he
clicked on the chat he realized he was wrong. The brief chat history on his
phone reminded him that he hadn’t saved Lavanya’s number. Out of curiosity
then he clicked the thumbnail and a gorgeous-looking Lavanya popped up on
his mobile screen.
She looked gorgeous in the perfectly fitting kurti which accentuated her
lissome figure. Those almond eyes on a glowing face, radiated happiness,
seamlessly blending with her very Punjabi attire. Never before had Rajveer
known a non-native north Indian carry it off so well. Rajveer smiled as he
looked at her photo. He sighed and reclined in his chair. He knew it was
going to a take a while before he could resume his work. That smile was
going to take a while before it faded.
He had wanted to talk to her the morning before, immediately after he
woke up, but had resisted. He didn’t want to appear desperate to get in touch
with her. For the rest of the day the work pressure at their store had got the
better of him. However, now that he stared at her picture, his urge to talk to
her overshadowed his inhibitions.
Looking up to the sky, he wondered what he should write to her. He
definitely wanted to initiate a conversation.
But what do I write?
He thought of something and then changed his mind. Then he thought of
something else and deleted it midway. At one point, he laughed at himself.
What am I doing?
Staring into space, contemplating, writing something and deleting it
immediately in search of better thoughts, better words—this was never his
style.
At times, he gave up on the whole idea itself, but then the heart wants what
it wants. Then finally, he wrote to her:

‘The pleats of Patiala salwar are more visible when it’s a light colour.’

He didn’t compliment her, even when he wanted to. His idea was instead to
start a conversation with the very first message.
Rajveer waited for a response, for the grey ticks to turn blue first. Merely
looking at the screen of the phone was not going to work. Hence, after
waiting for more than a minute, he moved on to his distributors’ contact list,
only to come back to Lavanya’s chat window every other minute and recheck
the read receipt of his sent message.
That morning, Rajveer could not focus on things he did. Time and again,
he kept checking his phone and eventually sulked under the weight of his
own expectations.
A while later, he was at the breakfast table with his parents, grandparents
and sister-in-law. His elder brother Jasveer had already left early to open their
store. Given that it was marriage season, the working hours at their retail
outlet had been extended.
The aroma of freshly made methi paranthas wafted in the air. With curd,
home-made white butter and a variety of pickles, there were plenty of choices
laid on the breakfast table to go along with the hot paranthas. The family ate
together. Rajveer was in the midst of telling his father about the delivery date
for the orders he had placed, when a notification on his phone made him lose
track of everything he had on his mind.
The twinkle in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the others.
His mobile was placed next to his plate. Carefully, with the back of his
fingers, which were soiled with curd and butter, he unlocked his phone to
read the response he had been waiting for.

‘Good observation! Where will I get them in Chandigarh?’

Rajveer’s father was waiting for a response to the question he had asked him,
but his son couldn’t stop smiling, as he typed a response back.

‘If you’re to buy authentic Banarasi silk where would you want to buy it
from?’

This time the ticks immediately turned blue.

‘Banaras’

Rajveer’s father kept looking at him.

‘And if you’re to buy authentic Kashmiri pashmina where would you want to
buy it from?’

‘Rajveer!’ His father interrupted.

‘HaanjiDaddy?’ Rajveer said inattentively. His eyes were still glued to the
screen, which showed Lavanya’s status as typing. . .

‘Kashmir.’

‘RAJVEER!’
‘Ikminute, Daddy.’ (One minute, Dad.)

‘Then why buy Patiala suit from Chandigarh?’

 ‘Oh my god! They are all so gorgeous!’ she sang out excitedly as she
touched and felt each one of them. Rajveer laughed at her joy and her
confusion.
‘Help me, na!’ she urged him.
Rajveer was ready. He began by talking about the numerous qualities of
the cloth spread out in front of them. He made her feel the fabric that he
believed would bring a nice fall to the salwar. He told her how the pleats
would be more defined when the material was softer. He also told her that a
Patiala salwar would take way more fabric than any other style of salwar or
churidar would. And that it was highly unlikely that in the rest of the country
she would find cut-pieces that would help her in getting an authentic Patiala
salwar made.
‘Which is why you wanted me to buy this from Patiala?’ she asked.
‘Well, you can find them in the rest of Punjab and some parts of Delhi as
well. But yes, I know Patiala well . . . so, Patiala.’
‘What about Chandigarh?’ she asked.
‘It would have been a challenge for me to get you on my bike in
Chandigarh!’
Lavanya giggled and playfully tapped Rajveer’s head. Rajveer found that
very endearing because there was an intimacy, a closeness to it. But he
played it cool even when his heart was racing.
For Lavanya’s fair complexion, Rajveer suggested she go for bright or
light colours. She readily agreed for she remembered what he had told her the
day before on the phone—a lighter shade leads to more prominent creases.
A shade of baby pink with silver embroidery, a sky-blue set and a creamy
white one made the final cut. Rajveer took the lead in doing the necessary
bargain. It wasn’t too difficult a job for him. A happy Lavanya was then led
out of the shop, holding on to her newly acquired things in a big plastic bag.
‘So are we done?’ she turned and waited for Rajveer to catch up. The two
then sauntered into a narrow lane.
‘The tailor,’ said Rajveer.
‘I plan to get them stitched back home,’ she said.
 Rajveer didn’t say anything but kept looking at her face. He let his eyes do
the talking. Lavanya understood and immediately responded, ‘Patiala suit.
Patiala shop. Patiala tailor!’
Rajveer smiled and raised his right hand and they both high-fived. ‘Did
anyone tell you, you are a good self-learner?’
‘Right! You aren’t the first one.’
‘Who said I say so?’
Lavanya immediately put her hands on her waist and made an annoyed
face.
‘Okay! That was a lie!’ Rajveer confessed and the two giggled again.
‘Wait a minute . . . How long will he take to stitch these suits?’
‘Sheand not a he,’ Rajveer said and then talked about how they could
work around the problem. The tailor Rajveer had in mind was good at her
work. She stitched suits for many of the customers at his store. Lavanya was
scheduled to fly back to Mumbai in two days. Given that and the fact that it
was the wedding season, there was no way her suits would be stitched in such
a short time. Rajveer suggested she should give her measurements to the
tailor and that when the lady was ready with them, he would courier the suits
to her.
Lavanya felt it was sensible to follow his advice. She was anyway
impressed by his knowledge on the subject matter. There was another thing,
being a homemaker as well, the tailor worked only in the second half of the
day. Now they would have to go to her house in the afternoon.
‘What should we do till then?’ asked Lavanya.
‘Come, I’ll show you,’ Rajveer said with a twinkle in his eyes as he led her
on.
Delighted, she followed him in anticipation.
‘Anything else that Patiala is famous for?’ she nearly shouted to be heard,
walking behind him.
‘A lot of things!’ Rajveer shouted in return without looking back.
Lavanya noticed that a lot of eyes were on her. This was probably because
she looked pretty different from the rest of them. She was used to it.
However, when the crowds around her kept staring at her, she jogged two
steps to quickly catch up with Rajveer.
‘Like what?’ she asked in a low voice.
‘Patiala salwar, Patiala peg, Patiala shahi pagg. . . it’s the Sikh turban . . .
what else . . . there’s this movie Patiala House. . . a court in Delhi with the
same name, we have an entire State Bank in the name of Patiala . . . Patiala
bahot famous hai ji. (Patiala is very famous!)’
Lavanya tried to grasp all the information. As they turned into the lane, she
was about to ask something when he interrupted her and pointed at a series of
shops that had traditional Punjabi footwear wedged on to their walls.
‘Oh wow! Punjabi juties! I love them!’ she squealed and ran in the
direction of the very first shop.
The place smelt of leather and glue. Overwhelmed with the display of
brilliant craftsmanship and the plethora of options, one more time she was
compelled to ask the same favour from Rajveer. ‘Help me choose,’ she said,
with pleading eyes.
And he did.
How could he refuse?
 Nine

Cutting through the crowd in a serpentine manoeuvre, Rajveer’s bike made

its way out of the busy lanes of Adaalat Bazaar. It was noon. Between the
two of them were now two new plastic bags which shared the company with
Lavanya’s purse. That wasn’t the only visible change between when they had
come and when they left. Something else too had changed.
Lavanya’s hands were no longer on his shoulders. They had made their
way on to his waist for stronger support. It happened so naturally that she
didn’t realize the transition.
Perhaps, it had happened when Rajveer took steep cuts and his bike had
leaned over the curves on the road. Her heart had been caught in her mouth.
The scare from Rajveer’s adventurous driving skills would have
subconsciously led to it. Yet, by the time she noticed it, and the drive was no
longer that bumpy, she found comfort in his touch and chose not to pull back
her hands.
Lavanya’s day at a place she had never planned to visit before had turned
out to be eventful. With ample time on their hands, Rajveer took the
opportunity to show her the key places of his town. On their way to the
tailor’s residence, they passed through the famous Qila Mubaarak and Sheran
Waala gate. While passing through the guddmandi, Lavanya was amused to
see loads of jaggery being unloaded from trolleys. The air around her smelt
sweet and she took a deep breath. Rajveer stopped by one of the many trollies
parked there and broke a piece from a cake of jaggery.
‘Want to try?’ he offered.
‘You thief! You are stealing!’
‘That’s demeaning. Doing this in broad daylight makes me a dacoit.’
Lavanya’s voice dropped after witnessing Rajveer’s audacity.
 The dhaba guy arrived at their table and interrupted the conversation. He
had brought a fresh, hot tandoori roti for Lavanya. The two went back to
eating. Rajveer used the interruption to change the topic.
‘Let’s talk about your missing boyfriend,’ he said, smiling naughtily.
Lavanya made a face, wondering where that had come from.
‘How come such a good-looking girl as you doesn’t have one?’
She took her time to finish the food in her mouth and when she was
through with it she said three things, ‘First of all, thanks for the compliment.
Second, looks don’t have anything to do with being in a relationship. Third, I
had one. We broke up last year and it was horrible.’
‘What happened?’
Clearly, he was only interested in her third point.
‘Over a period of time, his priorities had changed. I felt that more than a
partner he wanted a caretaker who would seldom say no to him. He was
willing to marry only if I quit my job and became a homemaker.’
‘Hmm . . . I see.’ Rajveer nodded thoughtfully and then said, ‘I never
asked what you do.’
She smiled. ‘I work with a non-profit organization where I teach kids from
the economically weaker sections of the society.’
‘Wow! That’s great work!’ he said admiringly.
Lavanya took his compliment with a smile. When she said nothing more,
Rajveer asked, ‘So you have been doing this for a while?’
‘Hmm . . . about a year. Before this, I worked as a programmer for three
years at Google.’
‘Goo . . . uhum . . . uhum!’ The morsel of food in Rajveer’s mouth had
almost fallen out. The mention of having worked in one of the Fortune 100
companies threw him off. He suddenly felt very small. Saini Emporium was
no match for the work she’d done or was doing!
‘What happened?’ Lavanya panicked on seeing him suddenly cough.
‘Nothing . . . uhum . . . uhum . . . It’s nothing,’ he managed to say, shaking
his head.
‘Do you want water?’ she asked, pouring him some from the jug kept on
the table between them.
 ‘Yeah, it’s spicy!’ Rajveer said as he took the glass from her hand and took
a few big gulps.
Lavanya chuckled looking at his face and running nose.
When he settled back, Rajveer asked her, ‘What’s your educational
background?’
‘I am a computer engineer,’ she said eating a spoonful of paneer from her
plate.
‘Oh, so am I! And . . . and you did your engineering from . . . Shillong?’
‘No, no. From Bombay. IIT Bombay.’
He immediately picked up the glass and in one go gulped down the water.
Please don’t ask me the same question.Rajveer begged her in his heart.
The face-off between Guru Nanak Dev Engineering College and IIT Bombay
was going to be awfully humiliating.
‘So why this transition from Google to teaching?’ he rushed with that
question, not allowing her any more time to think and ask him in return.
‘I always wanted to work for a social cause. I got a two-year fellowship
opportunity to teach and I took it,’ she answered.
‘But does it pay well?’ Rajveer asked the question he had in his mind for a
while.
‘I can make ends meet. Google continues to pay me half my salary as long
as I am on this programme. That was the model through which my current
organization got teachers from reputed companies. We have to let go of half
our salaries, let go of appraisals and some other benefits. When I join back
and if I join back, I will have to start my career from where I had left,’ she
explained.
‘What do you mean if you join back?’
‘I am enjoying what I do here. It’s so fulfilling to teach these not so
privileged kids. They need us; in fact, a lot of us. Besides, I have taken my
GMAT and I have applied to a few schools for my MBA. However, even if I
do my MBA, I will take out time and continue to teach kids. I like it that
much.’
Rajveer didn’t dare to ask which MBA schools she had applied for, but in
his mind he had immense respect for what she was doing. When his
intellectual insecurity subsided, he congratulated her for her efforts.
They finished their long lunch and left the dhaba. There was enough time
for the sun to set. In the back of her mind Lavanya knew she wouldn’t have
much to do after she reached Chandigarh. Her best friend was no longer
staying at home but at her in-laws, in the same city though. She was enjoying
Rajveer’s company. She wanted to delay her departure but felt awkward
saying it. Half-heartedly she followed Rajveer to his bike.
On their way back to Patiala bus stand, they passed by a huge marble-
white building complex with a central golden dome.
‘What’s this?’ Lavanya tapped Rajveer’s shoulder and asked.
‘Dukh Nivaran Sahib gurdwara!’ he answered.
‘I want to visit it,’ she said.
‘Are you sure?’ he double-checked, wondering if she was not getting late.
‘Very,’ she confirmed.
A little later, covering their heads with scarves, they walked barefoot
inside the gurdwara. In her heart Lavanya said a little prayer. From the corner
of his eyes Rajveer kept looking at her, and more carefully when she had
closed her eyes. Lavanya wanted to sit inside the main hall, but Rajveer
suggested a more appropriate spot. They stepped out of the building, ate their
respective prasad and moved towards the sarovar, the sacred water pool.
After a walk around the holy waterbody, the two sat by the edge of the pool.
Lavanya had never been to a gurdwara before. And now her first visit was
to a big and historical one. Rajveer narrated the brief history of the place, ‘As
per an old handwritten document preserved in the gurdwara, one Bhag Ram
waited upon Guru Tegh Bahadur, who is the ninth Sikh Guru, during his
sojourn at Saifabad (now Bahadurgarh). Bhag Ram made the request that
Guruji visit and bless his village so that its inhabitants could be rid of a
serious and mysterious sickness which had been their bane for a long time.’
‘Then?’ Lavanya interrupted him.
Rajveer found her curiosity adorable. He continued, ‘The Guru visited and
stayed under a tree by the side of a pond. The sickness in the village
subsided. The site where Guru Tegh Bahadur had sat came to be known as
Dukh Nivaran, literally meaning eradicator of suffering. Devotees have faith
in the healing qualities of this sarovar water,’ he said, looking towards the
placid waters.
‘Hmmm . . .’ Lavanya said thoughtfully. ‘It’s a beautiful story.’ She too
began to gaze at the lake.
There weren’t many people around at that time of the day. Devotees
walked passed them around the sarovar. The place was calm and peaceful.
Numerous multicoloured fish swam in a zigzag way to the edge of the
sarovar and retreated.
They didn’t speak much; there was no need to. The atmosphere
surrounding them demanded silence which was refreshing for Lavanya, who
sat beside Rajveer and watched him dip his hand in the water. He was trying
to touch a fish, any fish.
She introspected about how events in the recent past had unfolded for her.
About how she had finally landed up in Patiala, a place she had no plans to
come to till two days back. From where she sat looking at Rajveer, she saw a
kid in him who still wanted to hold on to his window seat, who could dance
in an unknown gathering, whose idea to take a girl out on a date was on a
bike instead of in his car, and who played with fish in the holy water. Maybe,
what they say about ‘opposites attract’ was true, for there was no other reason
why a mature woman like herself desired his company. Maybe, she desired
more than his company. She didn’t know yet, but what she was sure about
was that his presence brought her joy.
The sun had just set when Lavanya’s stint on the back seat of Rajveer’s
bike finally came to an end. This was the same place he’d picked her up
from, the bus stand.
There was no way Rajveer was going to only drop her and drive back—not
after having spent an entire day with her.
He parked his bike and walked by her side. In his hands, he carried the
plastic bag he had got from his store when Lavanya was in the tailor’s house.
He was feeling a bit sad because he was bidding her goodbye. They stood on
a platform amongst scores of passengers awaiting the next bus to arrive. And
when it did, Rajveer ran through the crowd to grab a seat for her. Lavanya
felt like she was being cared for and it meant the world to her.
 She stepped inside the bus after a majority of passengers had already
boarded. Rajveer sat occupying an aisle seat of a row where the passengers
were largely women. The moment he saw her, he waved his hand with a wide
grin of success on his face. It was very thoughtful of him, she felt.
When she arrived by his side, she resisted a strong urge to run her hands
through his hair. Some goodbyes require us to express ourselves.And yet she
didn’t. He got up and made way for her to sit. The same way he’d got up in
the plane to make way for her.
‘Sorry, couldn’t grab the window seat,’ Rajveer said, getting up from the
seat.
Lavanya laughed and said, ‘This is perfectly fine.’
When she took her seat, Rajveer handed her the bag he had been carrying
all this while. ‘This is for you,’ he said.
‘What is this?’ she asked opening it. Her eyes grew big in happy
anticipation.
Rajveer waited for her to pull it out.
It was a piece of cloth she guessed even before opening it. When she
pulled it out, she was staring at a striking multi-coloured embroidered piece
of cloth in which the pattern was dominated by bright shades of pink and
green. She remembered that she had seen similar stuff with similar designs
and embroidered weblike patterns at Shalini’s place earlier. She could not
recall what it was, but she had an idea that it was only available in this part of
the country.
‘It’s called phulkari,’ Rajveer said.
On hearing that, Lavanya immediately realized that she’d missed buying it,
‘Yes, phulkari. I . . . I wanted to buy this as well, but I completely forgot!’
‘Well, you have it now,’ Rajveer said softly.
‘Oh this is so . . . so . . . so beautiful!’ Lavanya said, looking at it and then
she looked up at Rajveer.
‘Thank you. For this, and for everything!’ she said with emphasis. He
knew she meant it.
Suddenly the bus driver honked. The conductor whistled. It was time for
the bus to leave. Rajveer said bye to her. With a lump in her throat, she said
her goodbye too.
Rajveer walked away from her and was about to step out of the bus when
he heard Lavanya’s voice again.
‘RAJVEER!’ she shouted.
He looked back and saw her walking towards him. Like a gust of wind she
came and enveloped him in an embrace. People around them stared at them,
but nobody said a thing.
She wanted what she wanted. And she did what she wanted. Some
goodbyes require us to express ourselves.
‘I will miss you!’ she whispered into his ears.
Rajveer had longed to hold her all day, but when it happened to him, he
went numb. Breathing wasn’t an involuntary act any more. A flood of
happiness had come unannounced. He wasn’t prepared for it; and neither was
Lavanya who chose to follow her heart only when it was a race against time.
Humans! How they conceal their emotions till the emotions get the better of
them.
It was a free fall into a bottomless abyss of joy. It took him a while to get a
sense of it. After a couple of minutes when Lavanya separated from him, he
looked into her eyes. There was a joy in them. He sighed.
No one said anything.
For a man there’s nothing better than a girl wanting to hold him tight in her
arms, even before he does. What he recalled was the raw passion with which
Lavanya wrapped herself around him. She had the guts to do so. He was
convinced he could have never done this and so awesomely.
A lot had changed between the two of them.
 Present

‘The fact that the human body has a delicate organ like the brain makes it
necessary for us to wear a helmet while riding a bike. And a helmet, as you
all know, is protective gear designed to be worn on that part of the body
which holds the brain. Many men, therefore, prefer to wear it on their left
elbow . . .’
It takes the audience a while to get the joke.
When the visuals of helmets often hanging from the left arms of men,
while riding a two-wheeler, flash in their minds, the students break into a big
laugh. The left half of the audience, which is dominated by the girls, laugh
the loudest. Why would they let go of an opportunity to take a dig at their
male counterparts?
When they all settle down, the person on the stage continues further.
‘ . . . it must be there. Why else would they protect their left elbows with
such great care? A body without a brain doesn’t need a helmet. Chandigarh
women find helmets useless.’
And there it is, a chance for all the boys to get back at the girls! The cheers
this time are many times louder than on the previous occasion. It even takes a
longer time for them to settle down. And when they do a brave voice from
the girls’ camp shouts out, ‘We don’t need to wear helmets in Chandigarh.’
‘But you do agree that you have brains?’ comes the counter-question.
There is another round of cheers from the boys’ side.
‘And if the answer is yes, then the fact of the matter is—it needs
protection, just like boys do.’
‘As per Chandigarh traffic laws, we are exempted from wearing a helmet,’
another girl repeats.
The boys vs girls debate actually makes an otherwise dull subject of traffic
safety quite interesting.
Both the guys on stage know this is coming. They look at each other and
shared a brief smile. ‘Aap bilkul sahi keh raheen hain,’ (You are absolutely
right,) says the second guy on stage into the microphone he holds in his hands
and then adds, ‘Rule 193 of the Chandigarh Motor Vehicles Rules of 1990
exempts Sikh women.’
The first guy explains it further, ‘True that. Rule 193 of the Chandigarh
Motor Vehicles Rules of 1990 exempts a Sikh woman from wearing a
helmet. And from there on, due to practical constraints in differentiating a
Sikh woman from the rest, it has become a norm for other women as well.
While the majority of women riders here in Chandigarh use this pretext for
not wearing a helmet and compromise on their safety, I fail to understand
why religious sentiments are given precedence over safety concerns. Of
course, if the law permits, then one is entitled to make her choice, but why
make such a choice that can take your life away? It is my personal view that
in such a scenario Sikh women should prefer tying a turban as their male
counterparts. It then makes sense.’
A thoughtful silence descends in the auditorium, and making his way
through it the other guy on stage speaks, ‘Hairstyle, looks, comfort . . . these
are the reasons why many of you don’t prefer to wear a helmet. Isn’t it? The
boys are afraid that the gelled hair on their head would settle down.’ There is
a wave of giggles in the hall when he faces the boys’ side and says that.
He then turns towards the girls’ camp and mentions, ‘And it will hide your
beautiful faces . . .’ He pauses for a moment and shifts his gaze back at the
boys, and in a humorous tone says, ‘Baalon ki parwah hai, bheje ki nahi?
gar bheja hi nahi bachaa to baalon ka kya karoge?’(You care for your
hair, but not for your brain? If the brain is gone what will you do with the
hair?)
A few students clap at the witticism of the speaker.
He then turns towards the girls’ side of the hall. Everyone knows who he
was going to point to next. ‘Bina helmet ke two-wheeler chalaati hui ladki
khoobsoorat to lag sakti hai, par helmet pehan ke chalaane waali ladki
khoobsoorat aur samajhdaar dono lagti hai.’(The girl riding a bike without a
helmet may appear good-looking, but the one wearing a helmet appears both
good-looking and wise.)
 Even though he takes a jibe at the audience, the points he makes don’t hurt
anybody’s sentiment but make the people think.
‘And those girls who cover their foreheads till their eyebrows with their
scarves wrapped all the way behind their ears covering their nose and pretty
much their entire face, and wear sunglasses on top of that . . . I want to tell
them that there is an easier option—wear helmets.’
This time there is a loud cheer. As expected it is from the boys’ side while
the girls in the hall giggle, covering their faces in embarrassment. Everyone,
including the girls, enjoys the banter. A session on road safety never felt this
interesting to a group who’d least cared about it.
The other guy on stage takes his cue and says, ‘Indeed! Why not choose an
easier option, one, which more importantly saves your life? Not only that, it
will save you from heat and dust as well.’
There is a hum of agreement in the auditorium.
‘Folks! Please don’t just carry the helmet while you are on a bike but wear
it. The sight of the traffic cops from a distance may give you a chance, but
the tragedy on the road won’t give you enough time to wear it. Make it a
habit. And when you do wear it, ensure that you have securely fastened its
straps, or your helmet will be the first thing to slip off your body in case of an
accident, thereby making it useless.’
The second guy on the stage pitches in, ‘Sirf challaan bachaane waali
nahi, jaan bachaane waali helmet pehno.’(Don’t just wear a helmet to save a
traffic ticket, wear it to save your life.)
 Ten

The following weekend, when the doorbell of Lavanya’s apartment in

Mumbai rang, little did she know that on the other side of the door, her suits
from Patiala had arrived. In fact she didn’t even know that her surprise was
going to be way bigger than that—carrying the suits all the way from Patiala
was Rajveer!
‘Oh my god!’ she screamed when she saw him. She was stunned.
‘RAJVEER.’
He was right in front of her in a black full-sleeved shirt, with its cuffs
folded up his arms, and a pair of faded light-blue denims.
Lavanya looked zapped. While she was in a state of disbelief, Rajveer was
smiling, looking right into her eyes. He stayed at the door, savouring all the
fun.
‘This is such a pleasant surprise!’ Lavanya squealed and stood on her toes
to give him a hug.
‘Glad it worked,’ Rajveer spoke for the first time ever since he had rung
the bell. ‘And here they are,’ he said, giving her the packet of stitched suits.
‘Oh, thank you!’ she said, taking the packet. Lavanya hadn’t expected to
see him or her suits, but now that the new dresses were in her hands, she
couldn’t hold herself back from feeling excited. The twinkle in her eyes made
it evident.
Rajveer stood watching her expressions.
Then it finally struck her, and she invited him inside her apartment.
It was a modest two-bedroom flat, in a building in the suburbs. Lavanya
was sharing it with her room-mate who was out with her boyfriend and was
due to come back anytime. The house wasn’t cluttered, yet it was evident that
it was not a family set-up. A sofa set and a dining table dominated most of
the room. The dining table top was covered with random things like grocery
bags, water bottles, boxes and keys. And most of the sofa had newspapers, a
ladies purse, a laptop and a pile of ironed clothes on it. Bright-blue curtains
and a few paintings and photographs decorated the white walls.
‘Come,’ she said, and he followed her to her room. As the two walked in,
suddenly, the hug Lavanya had shared with Rajveer on the bus at the Patiala
bus stand flashed in her mind and she felt a certain anxiety. Rajveer’s coming
to her house had mischievously taken her peace away. She knew it was
momentary though and soon the anxiety would settle down.
‘Sorry my place is a mess today,’ Lavanya said, pulling back the curtains.
A light breeze blew in. The sun had just lost its existence for the day and
there was still time for the moon to claim its significance in the sky. It was a
pleasant evening. Rajveer could hear the noise of the traffic and people
outside. He looked around her room and found that it was more pleasantly
decorated than the living room. The curtains were white and had beautiful
handicraft birds stuck to them as if they were flying out. The walls had a few
picture frames of her and her friends; there was a brightly coloured green
bedspread on her single bed; the lamp by her bedside was made like a basket;
and a thin string of fairy lights hung around the bed.
‘How did she stitch them this quickly?’ Lavanya asked him, distracting
him from the survey of the room. She pointed to the small cushioned stool in
front of her bed, against the wall. Rajveer sat on it but said nothing.
Folding her legs under her, Lavanya took the seat right in front of him. To
get to see her again was a treat to Rajveer’s eyes. Even though after Lavanya
had left Patiala the two were in touch with each other, Rajveer yearned to see
her in person. He wanted to understand what exactly had happened on the bus
that evening and what it meant to her. They had never talked about it
afterwards. Once, when he had tried to bring up the topic Lavanya had
managed to dodge it. He had thought he would meet her and talk about it
face-to-face. In fact, he had thought when he would meet her the next time,
he would greet her with a hug, but then when moments back she had opened
the door, he simply couldn’t do what he had planned. And now he waited for
that perfect moment.
‘I get it. You pushed her to do it quickly. Right?’ she said, laughing.
 Rajveer laughed too. ‘I was supposed to come here. So I thought I’d get
the suits as well,’ he said.
‘For work?’
‘Yes.’
They talked for a short while before Rajveer’s eyes fell on the packet
again. It was lying on the centre table. He pointed to it and asked, ‘You don’t
want to try them?’
Lavanya was in two minds. She was desperate to wear them and see
herself in the mirror, but the idea of doing so in Rajveer’s presence made her
shy. She felt that a mild awkwardness had come into play between them. Was
it because she had not expected him to drop in unannounced? Or perhaps it
had to do with the formality with which Rajveer had spoken to her. It
bothered her. She felt that they were closer the last time they were together.
He wasn’t even the one to initiate the hug at the door.In her heart, she
wanted Rajveer to get over the hesitation. And the moment that would
happen, she would love to be in front of him in the clothes he had got for her.
‘I will, in a while. How about some tea first?’ she asked, changing the
subject.
‘Hmm . . . okay, but on one condition,’
‘Which is?’ Lavanya asked smilingly.
‘I will make it.’
For a second Lavanya was taken aback. Now you are talking!
‘Can you make it? By yourself? With zero help from a lady?’ she asked,
challenging him.
‘Try me.’
‘Who are you?’ Lavanya said teasingly, exaggerating her reaction.
‘Bond! James Bond!’ he too reciprocated dramatically.
‘All right then! That’s the way to the kitchen,’ Lavanya pointed behind
him.
Rajveer turned back to see and then back to her and said, ‘But there’s one
thing . . .’
‘Which is?’
 ‘I’d hate to deny you my company, so you will have to come along and
chat with me.’
How charming!Lavanya stopped short of saying that to his face. Instead
she smiled knowingly.
She was impressed. Never before had a man walked into her house and
proposed to do anything in the kitchen, let alone make tea. Not even her
room-mate’s boyfriend, who would occasionally come to visit the house.
Intrigued by Rajveer’s proposition and wanting to see him do a kitchen chore,
no matter how small, Lavanya readily agreed.
Soon Rajveer stood in the middle of the kitchen. It was a small one and not
very neatly organized but he managed to find a saucepan and, after a minor
struggle, the lighter, and put the water to boil. Lavanya had decided to stretch
the whole deal and opted to chill while watching him do all the work. She sat
on the kitchen slab to the left of the stove, her feet dangling in the air and
occasionally the back of her heels tapping the wooden closet behind her.
Rajveer was confident about his tea-making skills. He wasn’t sure though
about finding the rest of the ingredients and the utensils, especially the tea
strainer. Standing amidst the chaos of an unfamiliar kitchen he spent some
time figuring out what was where. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a brilliant idea
to volunteer in unfamiliar territory. Lavanya sensed that but was in a mood
for having some fun at his cost. She didn’t come to his rescue and giggled as
she observed him opening multiple closets, one after the other, in order to
find the sugar and tea. Rajveer’s tragedy was that the two containers had been
placed right next to the stove and he had overlooked them.
‘Don’t laugh. Help me find the sugar and tea. I won’t be able to make tea
otherwise!’
‘Zero help!’ she reminded him, laughing.
‘Please?’
‘You have a reputation to keep, Mr Bond,’ she announced and looked the
other way.
Only after Rajveer had pulled out all the boxes with pulses from the closets
and was exhausted, did Lavanya silently look into his eyes and point to the
right corner of the gas.
 Rajveer felt like an idiot. The jars had been in front of him all this while!
He looked embarrassed.
‘It’s okay,’ Lavanya said in a sing-song voice, her feet swinging like a
pendulum.
Rajveer added a few teaspoons of tea leaves to the water, which was
already boiling by then. He asked Lavanya’s preference for sugar and added
some.
To get milk from the refrigerator placed in one corner of the kitchen was a
no-brainer for him. He kept the fridge door open for a while, looking for
something else as well. Lavanya couldn’t figure out what and waited for him
to finally ask for it.
‘Ginger?’
Lavanya took a deep breath when she heard that. In her mind, she gave a
high score to Rajveer for asking that, but she tried not to show him. Wanting
to help him and yet pretending to not make it easy for him, she continued to
guide him with her eyes. She raised her chin towards the side door stacked
with tiny containers and ziplock bags. A large section of the topmost shelf
was taken by eggs and the bottom with cold drinks.
By then Rajveer had understood the newly invented protocol of
communication.
‘All right, so we communicate with the eyes and don’t say anything. I get
that!’ he said.
Lavanya grinned. Man, he was clever!
Rajveer pointed his finger to the second shelf and looked at Lavanya. She
softly shook her head with no expression on her face. When he pointed to the
third shelf, she gracefully blinked her eyes. It took him a few seconds to find
the ginger. They had begun to enjoy this game of talking without any chatter.
The next second, even before Rajveer could ask for it, Lavanya gently shifted
her eyes on to the grater hanging from the shelf behind him. He enjoyed how
she understood his need without having to tell her.
In the no-talk zone, the only sound that prevailed in the kitchen was that of
the simmering tea. Rajveer had added some grated ginger, the aroma of
which filled the room. When he, on his own, successfully found the tiny
cardamom bottle in the closet of spices, Lavanya raised her eyebrows in
appreciation of his efforts and more importantly his choice. The man was
really good at making tea. She was convinced. Satisfied, she watched his
skilful hands on the rolling pin. He crushed and powdered two cardamoms
and added the same to the tea.
When he was about to pour milk into the boiling tea water, with his eyes,
he signalled Lavanya to look into the pan. She wondered what it was about.
He held the big silver pan of milk right over the rising vapours from the tea
pan. Gently, he poured a thin stream of milk into the simmering tea. Lavanya
immediately recalled the conversation she had with him on the flight where
she had mentioned how she loved the act of adding milk in a thin stream to
the coffee and witnessing the white explosion in the black liquid. God! He
remembered that.She felt a strong urge to pull his cheek in that moment,
which she resisted.
They both smiled at each other as they watched the splash of white milk
burst into the whirlpool of hot black tea. They enjoyed how the white milk
clouds fused with the black tea. When the colour finally changed to a milky
brown, the two looked up at each other. They laughed like schoolkids.
Lavanya noticed and admired the fact that Rajveer didn’t have to measure
the quantity of milk. He used his instincts to pour just the right amount.
When he also kept the rest of the milk and ginger back in the fridge, Lavanya
finally spoke, ‘You make your own tea at home?’
‘So you spoke!’
‘Because from here on you don’t need any help!’
‘I see, not always, but yeah, at times I make my own tea,’ he said, reducing
the flame so that it was just enough to keep the tea on a boil for a while.
Rajveer leaned over the slab with his face above the stove. Nobody talked
for a while. Lavanya’s eyes were glued to the volcano of tea erupting in the
centre of the saucepan on the fire. A little later, without shifting her eyes from
the boiling tea, she landed up saying something to Rajveer. It caught him by
surprise.
‘You aren’t here for work.’
‘Wh . . . what?’ he pulled back and stood straight, looking at her.
couple of lives on the road. Enjoy your drink, but not at the cost to ruining
somebody else’s happiness. Be responsible. Say no to one-for-the-road and
yes to none-for-the-road.’
 Twelve

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Rajveer asked irritably as he got inside
his car.
‘I am,’ Lavanya responded, following him into the car from the other side.
‘You are here for your MBA, Lavanya. Will you even get time between
your studies to do this?’
‘We all need to make time for things we want to do.’
It was a Saturday evening. The orientation week had finally come to an
end and from the Monday onwards the academic session was to kick off. In
spite of being aware of how grilling her one-year postgraduate programme
was going to be, Lavanya had made the choice to continue doing what she
used to do in Mumbai—teach kids from the economically weaker sections of
society. While in Mumbai, she would spend eight hours every weekday with
them, she had to drastically cut down her efforts in Mohali.
‘Three days a week. One hour in the evening. I can take that time out,’ she
told him.
She wanted to continue what she had begun. There was a purpose to it and
she derived immense satisfaction from it. No matter how small her effort, it
was going to make somedifference. That’s what she thought.
Lavanya had already selected a school. Run by an NGO and attended by
children from the nearby slum, the school was located about 3.5 km from her
campus.
Rajveer had planned an outing for the two of them that evening. He had
come all the way from Patiala thinking he would pick Lavanya up and then
they would spend a wonderful evening by the serene Sukhna Lake in
Chandigarh. But Lavanya wanted him to take her to the evening school
instead. With limited time on their hands, they could only make it to one
place. The school would shut down by sunset and there was no point in
visiting the lake thereafter.
‘Will you make any money?’ he asked from behind the wheel, driving out
of the main gate of the campus. He was a bit pissed off.
‘Nope. I am doing this pro bono,’ Lavanya said, fastening the seat belt.
On the open road in the outskirts of Mohali, with disappointment in his
heart, Rajveer drove the car recklessly.
‘Slow down, Rajveer.’
He took his own sweet time in reacting to that and then too only slightly
released the pressure off the accelerator. And when he did, Lavanya reminded
him of the seat belt, which she thought he had forgotten to fasten.
‘Seat belt, Rajveer.’
‘Oh god! Please don’t irritate me any further!’
Lavanya kept looking at him but didn’t say anything. She regretted her
idea of visiting the slum school. Had she known it would spoil Rajveer’s
mood to this extent she wouldn’t have done so.
Annoyance makes people defend the indefensible.
‘We are still in Mohali. Not in Chandigarh,’ Rajveer said defensively about
why he wasn’t wearing the seat belt.
‘If only the place mattered . . .’ she almost whispered her point and
concentrated on the road outside.
‘It does. And I told you the same when you had come to Patiala. That day
you were bothered about the silly helmet. Today, you are bothered about the
seat belt. It’s only Chandigarh traffic cops who are rigid arseholes. It doesn’t
matter anywhere else.’
Had Lavanya wanted she could have easily argued, but she didn’t. The
timing wasn’t right and therefore there was no point in doing so.
As luck would have it, at the very next turn Rajveer drove into a temporary
checkpoint put up by the traffic cops. Clearly, he wasn’t that familiar with
Mohali roads and the prominent checkpoints of the city.
One of the five men on duty, who had tracked Rajveer from a distance,
rushed to stop his car right ahead of the temporary barricades. There were a
few cars parked one after the other on the left side of the road.
 Nothing was going right for Rajveer that evening! The truth of the moment
tore apart the argument he had made seconds ago. He had thought he had
made his point by telling her off but very quickly the tables had turned.
Caught between the embarrassment of being proved wrong in front of
Lavanya and the hassle of dealing with the cops, he rolled down the window.
‘Hanji janaab!’(Yes, sir?) Rajveer put forth a happy face and greeted the
constable in the local dialect. On purpose he gave him as much respect as he
would otherwise give to somebody of the rank of an inspector.
The constable, clad in khaki uniform, asked him for his driving licence.
When Rajveer sought the reason, he heard the same words that Lavanya had
uttered moments back.
‘Seat belt nahi lai!’(Haven’t fastened the seat belt!)
From he-was-about-to-wear-it to he-was-only-going-till-the-end-of-the-
road he cooked up a few reasons in his defence, but it was all in vain. Further,
to his dismay, the constable pointed at Lavanya and reprimanded him, saying
that if she could wear it, why couldn’t he do the same?
Why doesn’t this day come to an end right here?
‘Sirji, driving licence?’ the constable reminded him. He further asked him
to step out of his vehicle and come along with him to his senior who was
supposed to write him a challan.
Sitting behind the wheel, Rajveer pulled out his wallet from the back
pocket of his pants. He asked how much he would be challaned for.
‘A thousand rupees,’ the constable, who would have been in his early
thirties, answered.
Instead of pulling out his driving licence from his wallet, Rajveer pulled
out a 100-rupee-rupee note. Lavanya looked at what he was doing but didn’t
interfere. She watched on as Rajveer wrapped the note in the grip of his hand
and hiding it from the others transferred it into the constable’s palm as if
shaking his hand.
The constable checked the currency and immediately responded that he
would need the full amount to write him a challan. His words made Lavanya
hopeful. She wanted her boyfriend to be challaned for breaking the law.
 Thirteen

One evening, Rajveer arrived at the school in the slum where Lavanya had
finally begun teaching. It was her second week at the evening school. Rajveer
hadn’t told her anything about his visit. It was meant to be a surprise.
He parked his car outside the slum, where the mud walls of the slum
began, and got on to the broken pavement. Jumping lightly over the narrow
drain, he walked towards the only visible brick structure present in the area. It
was partly cemented. It appeared as if someone had once begun the work of
plastering the walls, but then had left it midway, giving it an unfinished look.
Several pamphlets and advertisements were stuck to this cemented part, while
the red-brick portion had been left untouched. The roof was made of tin
sheets. This oddly made structure was the most prominent and the largest in
this area.
As Rajveer walked towards the school, he began to hear the kids chanting
something. When he got closer, he could make out they were reciting the
mathematics tables in unison. Right outside the block, he heard Lavanya’s
voice, in the gaps between the children’s chant. The kids were repeating what
she was saying.
‘Three fives are fifteen . . .’ she sang out.
‘THREE FIVES ARE FIFTEEN!’ they repeated loudly.
He enjoyed listening to her voice so much that he stopped himself from
entering the class immediately. He wanted to savour the experience of
listening to her before breaking her concentration. There was something
about her voice, the zeal and the passion with which she was teaching that
touched him.
Then he stepped inside the class and immediately all eyes were on him
watching his every move. Lavanya, however, remained oblivious to his
presence and was still pointing with a wooden scale at the blackboard.
 ‘Four threes are twelve,’ she sang.
Nobody repeated. The chant had died all of a sudden. Instead the children
seemed to be looking at something and murmuring amongst themselves.
‘What . . .’ she began to ask the children why they had stopped when she
spotted him at the door. ‘Rajveer!’ she said, her face instantly lighting up.
‘GOOD EVENING RAJVEER, SIR!’ the children chorused
enthusiastically and greeted him.
How he loved that welcome!
He was there to please his beloved, but landed up being pleased in return
by the gesture of these little kids. Lavanya smiled and watched the interaction
between her students and her boyfriend. Rajveer stood there looking at the
kids and grinning. He seemed very happy that he had been acknowledged in a
big way. Now it was his turn she felt.
‘You should wish them now. That’s how they will learn,’ Lavanya spoke
softly into his ears.
‘Oh yeah!’ He realized he had been so stunned with that unexpected
gesture that he’d forgotten to reciprocate their greeting.
‘GOOD EVENING, CHILDREN!’ he sang at the top of his voice,
mimicking the children.
The kids giggled. Clearly it wasn’t as good as theirs was. He smiled at
them and then looked at Lavanya.
‘You have a lovely class!’ he said with genuine appreciation in his eyes
and respect for what she was doing there.
‘Hai na!’(Aren’t you right!) she acknowledged.
He nodded and looked at the kids who were now keenly looking at both of
them. They seemed to be around five to seven years of age. The class had
more boys than girls. Clad in shabby, old clothes, they sat cross-legged on the
floor. The bags next to them were unlike those of students in public and
private schools. Most had cloth bags meant to carry groceries and vegetables
in them. Yet, there were two things common between them and the kids in
other schools—their laughter and their bright eyes.
There were no water bottles by their sides, no shoes on their feet. There
was an earthen pot in one corner of the classroom and in the opposite corner a
neat line of tiny rubber flip-flops. At first look one could make out that the
number of slippers did not add up to the pairs of tiny feet present there. Not
all of them had a pair! This realization broke his heart.
‘Sir aap kya padhaayenge?’(Sir, what will you teach?) One of the girls in
all her innocence asked Rajveer. At first he couldn’t make out where the
question had come from. He looked around.
‘Chutki, ye wale sir aapse milne aayen hain, aapko padhaane nahi,’
(Chutki, he hasn’t come to teach you all, but to meet you all,) Lavanya spoke
to the girl who sat in the third row.
When Rajveer located her, he walked towards her. Her eyes were glued to
his feet. Rajveer watched her quickly whispering something into the ear of
the girl sitting next to her. The other one raised her eyebrows and giggled too.
Rajveer stopped by her and bent down.
‘Chhutki!’ he called her by her name.
‘Chhutki nahi Chutki,’ her neighbour corrected Rajveer. The kids around
him laughed.
He turned his head to look back at Lavanya who stood beside the
blackboard watching the happenings in her class. She was smiling, happy not
to intervene between the class and Rajveer.
‘All right, all right—Chutki!’ he corrected himself and then asked the girl
what she had told her friend.
She looked down shyly, squeezing her lips between her teeth tightly trying
not to smile.
Rajveer reached out to her friend and asked her what exactly she had said
in her ears. From the corner of her eyes, the girl hesitantly looked at her
friend. She wasn’t too sure about revealing their little secret, not until her
friend gave her the go-ahead. She wasn’t going to betray her friend! Rajveer
asked her one more time. For a split second Chutki looked into her friend’s
eyes. This was her signal.
Promptly Chutki’s friend opened her mouth, ‘Sir . . . is ne bola . . . ki na . .
. is ne apne papa ko . . . iske burday pe . . . aapke jaise white jootey laane ko
bola hai.’(She said that she has asked her father to get her white sports shoes
like yours on her birthday.)
 Her words made him emotional immediately. He looked at Chutki’s soiled
feet and asked her what she wore on her feet otherwise. She didn’t have an
answer.
Rajveer quickly pulled her in an embrace and closed his eyes. He didn’t
want to cry in front of the kids. He thought he managed to keep his emotions
to himself, but behind his back Lavanya had taken note of his changed body
language.
‘All right students, let’s get back to maths tables now!’ she announced,
bringing everyone’s, including Rajveer’s, attention back to the class.
He let Chutki go and walked towards Lavanya with a half-smile.
Even before he could ask her, she gave him the answer, ‘I will be free in
twenty minutes.’
‘Fine. I will be back in twenty to pick you up,’ he said and left.
It took him a little more time than that to get back. He had dropped
Lavanya a message asking her to continue teaching the class till he got back.

The next time he parked his car and walked towards the school he had two
big newspaper bags in his hands. From a distance he saw two women and a
cop in his khaki uniform standing outside the school. Rajveer wondered if all
was fine. He walked fast.
Concerned, he stopped by them before entering the class. It didn’t take him
long to realize that he had seen this man before. Of course, he had —he told
himself, recalling the challan incident that happened with him a couple of
weeks ago. He was the same constable who had stopped him and then had
finally let him go for two hundred bucks.
‘Madhav Singhji!’ he said enthusiastically, reading his name from the
badge on his chest.
‘Hanji.’
Hanji.’ The constable answered, wondering if he knew Rajveer.
Rajveer asked him what exactly he was doing there. Madhav Singh told
him that he was there to pick up his daughter. The other two women who
stood outside the school were there for the same purpose—to pick up their
little ones. Rajveer sighed with relief, there was no need to panic.
 Since Rajveer wasn’t worked up any more, he asked Madhav Singh if he
remembered him. The cop thought about it and then shook his head. How
would he?He stopped hundreds of vehicles every day as part of his duty at
traffic checkpoints. It was nearly impossible for him to remember.
Rajveer saved him the embarrassment by leaving out the bribe part in the
story and reminded him about the rest.
‘Oh okay, okay, ji,’ Madhav Singh responded, not too convincingly
though. Either he had not fully recalled Rajveer or he remembered accepting
the bribe part as well.
Nevertheless, Rajveer made his way inside. Lavanya had just dismissed the
class. Till seconds back what looked like an organized atmosphere had
instantly dissolved into chaos. The excitement of running out of the class and
having the rest of the evening to play had charged them all up.
‘Wait! Wait! Wait!’ Rajveer shouted to catch everyone’s attention. ‘Come
here,’ he called.
They all circled around him. Lavanya noticed the newspaper bags that he
placed on the table in front of the blackboard. He pulled out a samosa and a
alebi from each and waved at the kids.
‘Who wants to have these?’ he asked. The kids broke out in a loud cheer.
‘Jalebi, jalebi, samosa . . .’ the words were repeated a number of times in a
short span. They jumped to snatch the eatables from his hands.
Cutting through the noise was Lavanya’s voice, ‘Children make a queue
please. Make a queue.’
It took a while for them to do so. One by one they came and were offered a
piece of each. Their eyes radiated happiness the moment they held the food in
their hands. Lavanya took utmost care that after her students finished eating,
they washed their hands at the handpump located outside their school.
A woman from the neighbourhood had come with a key to lock the door of
the premises. She was from Aanganwadi and was in charge of retaining the
school key. To unlock and lock the school premises was one of her daily
duties. As she lived right beside the school wall, she had volunteered.
‘Namaste, Didi,’ Lavanya greeted her as soon as she saw her.
 She reciprocated her greeting and asked if she could lock the doors. The
kids had already left. Lavanya smilingly said a yes and walked out, leaving
the premises in the custody of the Aanganwadi worker.
‘You made them happy . . . the kids,’ Lavanya told Rajveer when the two
walked out.
He smiled in return.
Outside the school, Rajveer saw Chutki walking barefoot, holding the hand
of Madhav Singh. She was telling him something. They had only walked a
few steps when Rajveer shouted from behind, ‘Madhav Singhji!’
Madhav Singh in his khaki turned back. So did Chutki. Rajveer walked
quickly towards him. He asked if Chutki was his daughter.
‘Hanji sahib,’he answered humbly. There was gratitude in his eyes. His
daughter had updated him on how happy she was to eat the snacks.
Lavanya came and stopped by the three of them. Madhav Singh’s eyes
shifted from Rajveer to Lavanya. He said a thank you to her as well. She
acknowledged him with folded hands and further told him that his daughter
was a bright kid and that he must continue to send her to school.
He nodded. Meanwhile, Rajveer was contemplating whether he should ask
him or not, but then he could not hold himself back.
‘Isne chappal kyu nahi pehni?’(Why is she barefoot?)
Madhav Singh felt awkward answering the question. He pointed to his
bicycle leaning against the tree at some distance from them. He told them that
her slippers had fallen off her feet twice as he drove her to school and she
didn’t realize it. The last ones had fallen off only last week and he hadn’t
purchased her a new pair yet.
‘Pata nahi kahaan dhyaan hota hai iska,’(I don’t know where her mind
gets lost,) he said, tapping his forehead in mock anger.
Chutki was the youngest student in Lavanya’s class and at her age such
carelessness was expected of her. Rajveer rubbed his hand over the little
one’s head and she looked up at him with a smile; some crumbs of the
samosa were still stuck to the left corner of her lips.
Then Madhav Singh folded his hands and said goodbye. He had to get
back to his duty and therefore they left. Rajveer and Lavanya’s eyes followed
Chutki’s bare feet till she hopped on to her father’s bicycle. Perched on the
carrier of her father’s bicycle she looked back at both of them and waved.
They waved back at her.
‘Her given name is Radha,’ Lavanya told Rajveer as they both began
walking towards the car.
‘Whose?’ Rajveer asked.
Lavanya chuckled and said, ‘Chutki’s. But everyone at her home and
friends call her by her nickname.’
‘That’s a cute nickname.’
‘Funny thing is her father had forgotten he’d given her that name. He is so
used to calling her by her nickname.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, on my second day in school, I told him that Radha was not feeling
well and that he should take her to a doctor. He asked, “Who is that?”’
Lavanya laughed as she narrated that incident to Rajveer.
Rajveer chuckled while opening the door of his car and asked, ‘But how
did you know her given name is Radha?’
‘Names in the attendance register have been taken from the birth
certificates of these kids. However, it will take some time for me to make
these kids get used to their own names as all of them are used to their
nicknames.’
‘Classic!’ Rajveer said, igniting the engine. ‘Oh! By the way did you
remember we have met her father before?’ he asked.
‘I do. You bribed him. And I am yet to take his class on that!’ she said a
little irritably.
‘Like you took mine?’
‘I am yet to take yours as well!’ She stretched her arm and twisted his ear.
Rajveer drove them out of the slum.
Two days later, he was back at the same place. This time his car was full of
sports shoes, in all sizes.
 Present

A few moments of silence later he speaks again, ‘Any guesses on people of

which profession break the traffic laws the most?’
‘Auto-rickshaw wale!’ screams somebody in the crowd.
‘Punjab Roadways drivers!’ yells another. In the end, perhaps embarrassed
about not introspecting enough after so much had been pointed out to them,
one voice manages to say, ‘College students.’
This act of being self-critical is praiseworthy. However, the folks on stage
disagree with them.
One of them says, ‘The traffic police!’
The students don’t understand what he means.
‘When was the last time you saw cops fasten their seat belts while driving
the PCR van?’ the other guy asks.
It all makes sense to them now.
‘The irony of this country is that the ones in charge of implementing the
law often land up violating it simply because nobody is assigned to keep a
check on them.
‘In the name of duty they drive their vehicles on the wrong side of the
road, needlessly break traffic signals at their will and don’t care about
fastening seat belts or even wearing helmets.
‘People don’t like to associate with the police. To a good extent, the police
are responsible for this grim image of theirs in the mind of the people. The
traffic cops themselves don’t follow rules but expect others to do so. If they
take bribes and let go of culprits, they are making a huge mistake, for they are
defeating the very purpose they are standing up for which is road safety.’
‘So what can we do if the cops are corrupt?’ someone says in a sarcastic
voice from somewhere in the crowd.
‘Rishwat dena band kar do.’ (Stop offering bribes!) pat comes the response
from the stage.
 ‘Even better—stop breaking traffic rules in the first place. Why even pay
the little bribe that you can spend on yourself?’ A sane voice from the crowd
shouts.
‘But if cops break rules, why stop us?’ somebody else in the gathering
asks.
‘As someone said, “An eye for an eye will make the whole world blind.”
No doubt they are wrong, and they should be punished for it. However, if the
system is not working for some reason, what should we do? We should make
sure that those who break the rules are brought to justice. As a generation that
has technology at its beck and call, we can capture these acts and put them on
social media to create public pressure and push the authorities into action. It
is high time that while traffic cops keep a check on us, we too leverage the
power of technology and social media to keep a check on them. Become
aware citizens. But before you do so, ask yourselves a question—Are you
yourself following the traffic rules?’
‘Marry me,’ he says, well aware of the gravity of his words.
It’s late in the evening. They are in his car, on the road outside her
campus. It is quiet in there.
Rajveer was supposed to drop Lavanya at the campus and leave. She was
supposed to say her goodbye with a kiss. But now, she is at a loss for words.
This is a big surprise. It’s sweet, but difficult to respond to given the
significance of the subject.
She did believe that one day their relationship would come to this. And that
she would be happy if they came this close to each other that they would want
to live their lives together. But she didn’t see it coming this soon.
‘What?’ she says softly, wanting to verify if he is serious about what he has
said a second back.
He reaches out for her hand, envelops it with his two and this time slowly
repeats himself with far more conviction.
‘M-a-r-r-y m-e!’
After a second’s pause he adds, ‘Will you?’
In scores of movies they would have watched, when this moment arrives,
usually there is a ring and more often than not the guy is on his knees.
Lavanya is glad he didn’t do it that way.
Rajveer knows he loves her dearly, and that for him is reason enough. Yet,
it was her selfless love for human beings that he witnessed hours back, which
made his reason more solid. He would never want to let her go. He was that
sure about it.
Her eyes are glued to his faintly visible face in the comforting darkness of
the car. There is an anticipation in the silence. Even the comfortable air-
conditioned atmosphere suddenly makes her feel cold.
She wants to follow her heart and not think twice. Yet, she understands
what it means to say a yes. She has broken her heart once. It’s that
experience which makes her delay her affirmative answer. She isn’t prepared
to respond. Not at that moment. But, what she can’t deny as well is how much
Rajveer’s words have assured her of their lives together going forward. This
assurance means a lot to her and she looks forward to answering his question
soon.
‘I so wish to live my life with you, Rajveer. There is no reason why I should
say a no, but I need to reassure myself before I say yes, which is what I
eventually want to say. Give me some time. Will you?’ she says, finally
cutting the silence in the air between them.
He looks at her and smiles, then stretches and plants a kiss on her
forehead and then sits back. He nods in agreement. It’s all right, he can wait.
‘Of course!’ he says to assure her further.
She blows him a kiss.
treat women from Meghalaya as their role models. And, would they also
envy them if they came to know about them?
Closer to Lewduh bus stand, Lavanya talked to a few people, in the local
language, and they easily found them a ride. Rajveer was charmed to see his
lady taking the lead while he simply followed her. There was no timetable for
the departures of the vehicles simply because they left after they filled up.
However, luckily the two of them didn’t have to wait for long. A three-
generation family of six from Gujarat had just arrived and was going to be
their co-passengers.
This time they travelled through the valley and Rajveer couldn’t imagine a
more beautiful ride. In the plains their ride in the rickshaw was always filled
with dust and dirt and people milling about but here, it was serene with hills
on either side, green meadows and tall trees lining the road. There was traffic,
but no mad rush. For the first time in a long time Rajveer felt peaceful.
After about an hour and a half of some very interesting conversation with
the Gujjufamily, and trying their delicious Gujarati snacks— khakhras (thin,
round crackers made of flour) in the picturesque valley of Meghalaya, the
ride came to an end.
The dadi in the family insisted on taking a family picture with the young
couple as well as the driver. She wanted to capture every aspect of her
vacation. In the family of six she seemed to be the youngest at heart! While
her son and daughter-in-law, seemed uncomfortable when Rajveer and
Lavanya announced that they were unmarried and yet travelled together, the
elderly lady had shown much happiness. ‘Enjoy being together. Always!’ she
blessed them when the two bid them goodbye.
Lavanya and Rajveer were glad to have met her.
It had drizzled in Cherrapunji in the early morning hours due to which the
dense green beauty of the surroundings was accentuated. Rajveer joyfully
glanced at the hills around him and then looked at the sky. He stretched his
arms up in the air and inhaled the fresh atmosphere he was enveloped in.
‘Excited?’ asked Lavanya, putting her hand over his shoulder.
‘Very!’ he said with twinkling eyes. ‘Now what’s the plan?’ he asked.
 Lavanya looked at her watch. There was sufficient time till noon. That they
started early from Shillong had been a good thing and it had helped her plan
the rest of the day. She had also decided on where they would spend the night
—Nongriat, a village nestled within the mountain ranges.
‘We’ll stay in a village?’ Rajveer asked, surprised.
‘It’s beautiful, Rajveer! You’ll know when I take you there,’ she said with
softness in her voice.
‘I’m at your disposal, madam,’ Rajveer replied good-humouredly.
‘Anything else?’
‘We’ll cover three things.’
Rajveer was all ears.
‘A cave, a living root bridge and a waterfall.’
‘What’s a living root bridge?’ Rajveer asked about the only feature he
didn’t understand.
‘A bridge that has life.’
‘What do you mean it has life?’
‘You will see for yourself !’ Lavanya said with a mysterious smile. She
needed him to be excited and so refused to give any further details.
Rajveer’s fascination with Meghalaya knew no end and Lavanya was
largely responsible for it. Every now and then she presented him with facts
that blew him away. She told him fascinating things that he had no clue about
till then. She also wanted him to experience things first-hand.
Lavanya pulled out the local map that she had picked up from the hotel.
Even though she had been there quite a few times in the past, the detailed
local map looked very handy. Besides, she didn’t know if she could trust the
mobile data and signals.
‘Here,’ she said, putting her finger on the map where they were at the
moment.
‘We will have to go down south to this village called Mawsmai, which is
about 3.5 km from here. We’ll visit the cave there and come back here. Then
we will go to this place called Tyrna which is around 12 km from here,’ she
moved her index finger on the map as she spoke.
 ‘Brilliant!’ Rajveer spoke enthusiastically and looked at Lavanya’s lovely
face.
‘Then after seeing Tyrna, we will go down the valley pass by this village
called Nongthymmai and reach Nongriat. We are going to see the living root
bridges at both these villages.’
‘Wonderful!’ he said, still staring at her lovingly. Her face glowed as she
spoke.
‘We will spend the night in Nongriat in a homestay and in the morning we
will climb uphill on the other side of the village and reach Nohkalikai Falls.
And from there we will take a ride back till here,’ she sighed. ‘If you can see
these places as we’ve planned you can boast that you have seen Meghalaya.’
‘Roger that!’
Lavanya then looked up at his face wondering about his overenthusiastic
tone of voice. She saw him look at her with a lot of love and tenderness.
Playfully she rubbed her hand in his hair and before he could dodge, she
succeeded in tousling it. Looking at his crestfallen face, she quickly planted a
kiss on his cheek. That cheered him up but soon he wanted more. He tried to
hold her by her waist wanting to kiss her lips, when Lavanya cunningly
managed to slip out. Cautiously looking here and there to check if anyone
was looking at them she told him, ‘Tonight at Nongriat . . .’ after which she
quickly turned around and began walking.
Rajveer made a hapless face only to follow her footsteps.
Waving their hands, they managed to get a ride on a jeep that was passing
by. There were a few tourists in it along with some local folks. It was hardly
a ten-minute drive. Lavanya offered some money to the driver and Rajveer
was surprised to see that he didn’t even try to negotiate.
Soon they were at the ticket counter at the entrance of Mawsmai Cave.
Rajveer looked eagerly at the dark mouth of the cave. It was going to be an
adventure! He had never seen anything quite like this. Zigzagging among a
decent number of tourists, Lavanya and Rajveer picked up their pace and
moved ahead. They had a long day to look forward to. Rajveer held on to
Lavanya’s hand.
 It took them a while to pass the bottleneck at the entrance of the narrow
cave and finally get in. And as soon as they did, Rajveer realized what an
amazing place it was to be in. The formations on the roof were like nothing
he had seen before. There was an eeriness to it; this in spite of the fact that
the cave was illuminated by electric lighting. Lavanya updated Rajveer that
there were hundreds of caves in Meghalaya, some as long as 3 to 5 km. And
that it was only the Mawsmai Cave that was illuminated with lights to help
the tourists see the natural formation of it. There were wooden planks laid
down to help people navigate.
Holding each other’s hand and carefully placing their footsteps, they
moved ahead talking to each other. At times they climbed up and down a few
rocks. Every now and then bats living in the cave flew across, startling
people. Rajveer felt that the presence of people inside the cave didn’t make it
appear as spooky as it could have looked otherwise.
Years of natural abrasion of the rocks had carved some artistic shapes all
around. Stalactites, stalagmites and pillars were the interesting and noticeable
features that defined the very identity of the cave. Rajveer marvelled at them.
The place was home to flora and fauna as well.
All of a sudden, the channel in front of them narrowed and they had to
literally squeeze out of the space. The next moment it widened up. There
were a few waterlogged spots as well. Most of the people had to carefully
cross it, while some like Rajveer and Lavanya chose to step into the ankle-
deep water and walk. Thanks to Lavanya, who decided that the two should
wear shorts and T-shirts and crocs, they did not have as much difficulty as
some of the others. Rajveer particularly enjoyed the feeling of walking
upstream in order to find the source of water. His hand tightened around
Lavanya’s and when she looked at him, he winked naughtily. She was
enjoying being close to him as well.
Towards the end they reached a slightly open space from where natural
light peeped inside the cave. A lot of water was dripping from the cave
ceiling and the tips of the stalactites. The cave walls too were wet with algae
clinging to them.
 ‘Wow!’ Rajveer exclaimed, crossing that stretch of the cave as he got a
little wet under a natural mild cave shower.
‘This is truly amazing,’ he said, putting his arm around Lavanya’s shoulder
as the two of them finally stepped out of the cave exit.
‘Did you like it?’ she asked once they were out of the cave.
‘I liked walking in the narrow cave next to you holding hands,’ he said
with a twinkle in his eyes.
 Nineteen

It was just past noon when the two arrived at Tyrna. An army truck, on its
route to the Bangladesh border, had offered them a lift to this small village.
Lavanya’s idea of not hiring a tourist cab for the entire day was not only
adventurous but worked practically as well.
The truck dropped them closer to their destination but there was some
confusion in Lavanya’s mind about the direction to take. She quickly spoke
to some of the locals passing by. It had been a long time since she had been
to this part of Meghalaya, but then it turned out that her original guess was
indeed in the right direction.
A short walk later, the two arrived at a spot where ahead of them was a
fascinating path. They stood at the top of what appeared to be winding stone
steps that would lead them down into the valley. It was a spiral structure
along with an intermittently broken and ruined railing barricading a good
length of it on the slope of the hill. Observing the depth of the valley that was
their destination and then staring at the curve of steps beneath his feet,
Rajveer tried to imagine the length of it.
‘About 3000 steps,’ Lavanya spoke even before he could ask her.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘Brace yourself for a 3.5-km walk till we reach Nongriat. There’s no road,’
she said, pulling out the sandwiches that she had got packed from the hotel
for their lunch.
Rajveer was thrilled to know and was all the more excited to go down the
hill.
Lavanya passed a sandwich to him as they began their descent into the
valley.
‘Is this why you insisted on not taking a cab?’ he asked with his mouth
full.
 ‘Yes. Besides, we won’t come back from this side,’ she said.
‘Then?’
‘You forgot? I’d pointed it out on the map. We will go uphill from the
other side to see the Nohkalikai Falls. And guess what?’
‘What?’ he stopped short of taking the next step.
‘There are no such stairs there. There are only wild trails along the hillside
and it is a tedious journey. Very few people would take that route. It’s quite
challenging by most people’s standards, which is why we will rest at
Nongriat tonight and start afresh tomorrow.’
‘That sounds great!’ Rajveer looked at Lavanya with pride. He was happy
with the new-found adventurous side of his partner. He was having a hell of a
time in Lavanya’s company in her home state.
As they resumed their walk down the stairs, Lavanya reminded Rajveer of
how wonderful she had felt while being on the back seat of his bike, when he
had taken her around Patiala, especially when they had stopped by the
aggery trolley and had some. Memories instantly flashed in Rajveer’s mind
and took the shape of a smile on his face. ‘But your place is heaven!’ he said,
pulling out the water bottle from his bag while carefully walking down.
Lavanya acknowledged it with a smile and took the bottle from his hand.
In the lap of wet lush forest cover on either side, the descent of the
staircase into the valley was steep. The weather remained cloudy and
pleasant. The forest air on their face was refreshing. Beautiful wild flowers,
butterflies and birds helped them stay in high spirits. Occasionally, they
bumped into the local villagers who were transporting heavy loads up the
valley on that stairway. Seeing them take up such heavy loads made their
going down seem like too small a task. ‘They are carrying those gunny bags
on their backs and climbing 3000 steps?’ Rajveer asked in astonishment.
‘Without a word of complaint!’ Lavanya responded with a bit of pride in
her voice. Then she added, ‘There’s no other way but to adapt if one has to
live in the hills.’
That simple fact made Rajveer think about how much people take things
for granted in this world otherwise. We crib about the traffic jams while
sitting in our air-conditioned cars and here are men who climb 3000 steps
with heavy loads, for there is no road. Indeed, travel and getting to see the
world makes one wiser. It offers perspectives to appreciate things in a whole
new way.
‘What happened?’ Lavanya asked, when Rajveer didn’t say anything in
response.
‘Nothing,’ he said and picked up his pace to match with Lavanya’s
footsteps.
Lavanya stopped at a point where the two came across beautiful pink
flowers. She stretched her arm to get to the flowers.
‘These are the most beautiful flowers in this valley,’ Rajveer said, thinking
his girlfriend was going to pluck the flowers.
‘Pink wood sorrel,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘The name of these flowers.’
Yet, to his surprise she started plucking the leaves of the plant. ‘Here,’ she
said, offering a few to him.
‘What do I do with . . .’ his sentence was left incomplete when he saw that
she had put the leaves in her mouth and was chewing them.
There was no end to Rajveer’s amazement in this home of clouds. He too
did the same without question.
The leaves tasted pleasantly sour and took him by surprise. He looked at
Lavanya who seemed comfortable with the flavour. She walked on.
‘Listen!’ he shouted while trying to pluck some more leaves.
She kept walking and without looking back asked, ‘What?’
‘I LOVE YOU!’ he shouted, trying to make his voice echo, which never
happened.
‘Tell me something new,’ she said, still carefully walking ahead.
‘I don’t know anything new I can add to make this fact interesting.’
Then at once, she looked back and shouted at him, ‘Tell me that you will
love me in the future as well, when I will be old. Will you still love me?’
Rajveer immediately ran down the stairway and held his girlfriend’s face
in his hands. He looked into her eyes. Lavanya didn’t bother to stop him from
doing what he had in his mind. His left hand slowly moved on to her nape
from behind while he held her chin firmly in the other. He gently pulled her
face closer to his. His lips mildly brushed against hers causing butterflies in
her stomach. She let the bag in her hand fall down on the staircase and didn’t
bother to pick it up as it tumbled down a few steps. It didn’t matter. What
mattered was Rajveer’s warm breath mixing with her own.
‘I will,’ he said and softly drew her lower lip in between his lips and
looked into her eyes for a reaction. Her seductive wild eyes stared into the
depth of his. Mindless of everything around them and engaged in a sensual
conversation of their own, they only stopped whispering when Rajveer had
finally taken her entire lip in his mouth.
He kissed her hard. She savoured being kissed that way out in the open in
the lap of nature only marginally tamed by mankind. Rajveer leaned over her
and his hands worked their way to her back and held her. Her body rested on
the railing of the stairway, towards the deep valley. She knew he wouldn’t let
her go. So she took charge of the kissing, driving her tongue to explore his
mouth passionately.
When they stopped for breath, their fast-beating hearts calmed down a little
and their eyes met again. That’s when Lavanya realized how aggressive she
had been and she immediately felt shy. She wasn’t able to meet Rajveer’s
gaze and tried to look away. But Rajveer didn’t allow her any of it. He
mischievously turned her face towards him again and looked right into her
eyes. Blushing, she closed her eyes, but he tried to prevent that too. ‘Your
tongue tastes sour,’ he said with a smile. It had to do with the leaves they had
moments back.
She smiled, ‘Yours too,’ and hid her face in his chest. Rajveer wrapped his
arms around her tightly. They remained in an embrace for a couple of
minutes until Lavanya reminded him that they had more than two thousand
steps to take. He let her go reluctantly and made a face. Lavanya imitated him
and ran down as he followed.
Eventually, at the bottom of the valley, they arrived in yet another village
called Nongthymmai. The sun had finally begun its descent in the western
sky. The journey, being a downhill progression, wasn’t as tiresome as it had
appeared initially.
but they appeared very fit and moved swiftly. Clad in their local attire, they
smiled every time they talked. They inquired about their trip so far while
leading them into the house.
Lavanya and Rajveer had some tea at first while their hosts kept them
company with their stories from the place. About half an hour later the two
stepped into their room and freshened up. They were served a dinner of
steamed rice, dal, vegetables, curd and boiled eggs, which for a forest village
was a feast. For Rajveer’s taste buds it appeared different from the north
Indian cuisine, but it was a nice change.
Their bed was warm and cosy. After an entire day’s tiring excursion, they
fell asleep in each other’s arms as soon as they got into the bed. Around them
the valley grew darker. They didn’t even know when, closer to dawn, it
began to rain. When in his half sleep, Rajveer realized that it was pouring
outside, he curled his arm around Lavanya, pulled her closer and tucked her
into the curve of his body.
It is very early in the morning. Rajveer has gotten back from the washroom.
He lifts the quilt and gets back in the bed where Lavanya is sleeping facing
the other side. Her loose night top has slid up her body. Rajveer’s eyes fall on
her bare back. His desire to sleep a little more has been invaded by another
temptation.
He knowingly lifts the quilt off her body in order to see her glowing fair
skin in the light peeping into their room from the window. With the forefinger
of his right hand he makes his first contact with her lower back. It is a soft
touch. He waits to observe if it brings Lavanya out of her sleep. It doesn’t.
Slowly, he crawls the tip of his finger up above her back. Seconds later, he
senses a slight movement in her body. He immediately stops and only
resumes doing what he is doing once he is assured that she isn’t awake.
This time, his finger travels horizontally on to her waist. He loves running
it over the soft flesh of her hip. While he is busy exploring her back with his
finger, he is unaware of the fact that Lavanya is already awake. She lets him
lay the way he wishes to.
At his will, Rajveer draws irregular shapes on the fair canvas of her back.
t times he writes his own name over it. He is not alone in deriving pleasure
out of his invisible drawings. His touch has kindled a fire in her. With every
inch of skin his finger moves on, her desire to be touched further, increases.
She struggles to hold her breath and not let Rajveer know that she is already
awake, but fails to do so the moment his finger crawls further up inside her
top.
Rajveer hears her breath. He knows she is awake, but he chooses not to
talk. Instead, he lifts her top from behind, comes closer to her and kisses her
naked back.
She moans in pleasure, letting him know how much she is enjoying what he
is doing to her. When she can’t take it any more, she turns in bed and looks
into his eyes. Her lips are parted. Her breath is heavy. He is still holding on
to her top in his one hand. She wildly runs her hand in his stubble and asks
him to take it off her.
 Moments later, all that the two of them are wearing is that quilt, in the
warm comfort of which their young, passionate bodies explore each other.
 Twenty

The morning was pleasant. Sunshine peeped through the wet leaves of the
trees and wished the valley a good morning. Rajveer and Lavanya were
pleased to wake up next to each other. He kissed her eyelids. In return she ran
her fingers through his hair. The two lay in bed for a while. Resting her head
on Rajveer’s chest, Lavanya stared out of the window at the brand-new day
that to her looked promising. She knew that it was important they make an
early start.
Like the day before, they finished their breakfast and packed some food
and water along with them and were on their way.
‘That’s where we need to go,’ Lavanya said, pointing to the tip of the hill,
a long distance from them.
From where the two stood, the hill looked majestic and inviting but
Rajveer knew that it would be a challenging trek. ‘Oh boy! Any idea how
many hours will it take us to be there?’ he asked.
‘We should reach there before evening,’ she said and then looking at
Rajveer asked, ‘What? You’re scared? Not up to it?’
Rajveer gave Lavanya a challenging look, ‘Not at all ma’am. I can race
you all the way,’ he said, and began running.
Lavanya followed him laughing and screaming that he couldn’t go ahead
since he didn’t know the way.
Soon they reached a river that curved along the base of the hill. The river
in that part had turned into a beautiful turquoise-coloured pool. The water
was unbelievably clean as they could see the stony floor through it.
‘This entire place is loaded with beauty!’ Rajveer exclaimed
appreciatively.
‘You know what’s the greatest threat to this place, or for that matter the
entire North-east?’ Lavanya asked as she carefully placed her foot on a rock
to cross over it.
‘What?’ Rajveer asked, jumping off one rock.
‘The tourists from the rest of India.’
‘How come?’
‘It’s a catch-22 situation. The state needs tourists but the sad part is these
tourists who come from the rest of India are a bane as well. They pollute our
beautiful environment before they leave.’
Rajveer momentarily stopped short of taking the next step and pondered
over what she’d said. ‘Such a shame and a sin to pollute something as
majestic and pristine as this!’ he said, looking around himself.
‘Well, it’s a sin to pollute any environment for that matter,’ she pointed
out.
He nodded. They moved ahead.
Looking carefully at the map and studying the sun’s location, Rajveer
narrowed down on one direction. Lavanya couldn’t remember the path very
clearly and so he had to step in. He felt great when he was able to track the
route on his own. They continued walking. They were now on a trail, which
eventually led them to something that Lavanya had promised Rajveer the day
before, the double-decker root bridge.
Emerging from two different vertical levels of a big strong tree on one side
of the stream, the double-decker root bridge was a spectacular sight to
behold. There were two levels to the massive structure that looked like it was
straight out of the Ramayana or Mahabharata. There were vines and creepers
growing around the roots and the two levels could be accessed by the stone
steps on their side. Algae had painted these steps green and black and from
amongst the cracks peeked tiny mushrooms. The bridge looked like a whole
breathing, growing organism in itself!
Rajveer stood appreciating the unbelievable structure in front of him with
Lavanya by his side. He felt that they had reached another world. The more
he looked, the more intrigued he grew. Underneath the living bridge the
stream channelling in between the boulders shaped into a small waterfall. The
place offered so much to make for good photographs that Rajveer had a
strong urge to pull out his phone and take pictures. But Lavanya reminded
him of the promise she made him take before their trip had begun.
‘Naa . . . aah!’ she said without adding anything.
‘Experience the moment. Let go capturing it!’ he repeated her words,
slipping his phone back into his pocket.
She walked closer and said, ‘Good boy!’ while ruffling his hair once again.
He made a face and she laughed it off.
‘So let’s experience all this for a while,’ he proposed.
‘How?’ she asked.
The two sat on the boulders under the trees at the edge of a mini waterfall
with their feet in the gushing white water. The noise of the flowing water was
loudest there. Colliding against the rocks and collecting itself in the narrow
passage, the stream picked up pace at this part of its length. It gave birth to an
extremely fine spray of water that kissed their bodies.
‘What happened?’ Lavanya asked, noticing a concerned look on Rajveer’s
face, as he was lost in thought while looking at the moving water.
He turned his face towards Lavanya but didn’t say anything.
‘Rajveer?’ she caressed his forehead and waited for him to speak.
‘I don’t want to lose you. Ever. I need you for the rest of my life.’
She rubbed his forehead and his back, ‘You are worried about things back
home?’
He nodded, staring back into the moving waters.
‘Don’t be. We are going to be together,’ she said gently and holding his
arm put her head on his shoulder.
‘I can marry you against my family’s wishes, but that’s not what I want to
do. I want them to accept you. I want them to accept my choices for my life. I
want you to know that.’
‘I know it. And I want you to know that I am fine with it,’ Lavanya said,
rubbing her face on his arm.
For the next couple of minutes, nobody said anything. The two of them
kept looking at the water. Silence talked in the absence of words.
‘I assure you your family will accept me. I have this feeling,’ she said,
raising her face to him.
 ‘What kind of feeling?’
‘A strong kind of feeling,’ she said and smiled.
Rajveer separated Lavanya from him to look at her face, trying to decode
what she meant. There was nothing but the simplicity of the thought
reflecting on her face. She’d just shared what she’d felt. The innocence in her
eyes was evident. Rajveer instantly took her in his arms and kissed her head.
Their trek uphill to Nohkalikai Falls was indeed tiring, but it was
wonderfully adventurous at the same time. During their hour-long walk they
passed by many more stunning spots in that vast and densely green forest. At
times, under the shade of tall trees, they watched calm and crystal clear
turquoise-blue water streams. Some of them, at later stages, chose to get
louder and more aggressive, transcending into waterfalls and that’s when all
the turquoise-blue would change into white froth. They enjoyed this play.
Further ahead, they could see a narrow stream tumble down the steep valley
slope to feed the main river.
On their way up, they saw a few more root bridges. Their expedition also
involved crossing two steel cable suspension bridges, one of which was
actually a hybrid between a steel and a living root bridge—steel cables were
intertwined with the roots to add stability to the otherwise dilapidated
structure.
Beyond the bridge the two lovebirds walked straight on to what they could
call the set for a fairy-tale movie sequence. Words slowly slipped out of his
mouth as he gazed up above and around him. ‘What is this place!’ he said
with wonder. The beauty of what was around them was too good to be real.
Such scenes could have only been imagined until then, he thought. Exquisite
colourful butterflies fluttered around and ahead of them as they entered this
semicircular space.
Scores of thick branches ran horizontally and in a zigzag pattern forming a
canopy of green and brown above them. They all had emerged from various
levels of the numerous rubber fig tree trunks around them. It felt like a cave
of criss-crossed branches, which at their liberty had picked the direction in
which they had chosen to run. There was hardly a place from where the sun
could peek in and from where it managed to, it formed a spotted pattern on
Rajveer could never sum up in words the range of emotions he underwent as
he walked towards the ICU that day. He had seen Lavanya, in the ICU, a
number of times before, but this was the first time he was going to see her
when she was conscious. Moments back, he had received a call on his phone
from the ICU letting him know that his patient was conscious and wanted to
see him.
At the security check, he followed the ritual of showing his attendant pass
after which he was given an attendant gown, a set of shoe covers, and a
disposable mask, which he tied to his face. All this was to protect the patient
from infection. Rajveer went through the motions of it without even
registering what he was doing. However, each step that he took towards
Lavanya was so heavy, he was finding it difficult to move forward. What was
he going to tell her—that in his carelessness he caused a huge tragedy? That
he’d killed the little girl they both doted on? That he was responsible for her
condition? A dread set in, in his heart and his throat felt dry. He wanted
something to happen to him so he didn’t have to face Lavanya.
Soon, he was quietly standing next to her wondering how to react. His eyes
were red, his forehead strained.
For the first few seconds, Lavanya could not recognize Rajveer, because of
the mask he wore. Only when he softly called her name, she looked into his
eyes and a glimmer of recognition came on her bruised face. She immediately
made an effort to grab his hand without saying anything. Her eyes were filled
with tears. Rajveer stretched his arm and gave his hand.
Lavanya’s fingers eagerly folded on his hand and she closed her eyes,
letting the tears drop. To finally get to be with Rajveer meant she’d got her
world back. They were together again and all was well.
She opened her eyes and looked at Rajveer waiting for him to talk to her,
to tell her what exactly had happened to her.
The doctors had asked him to reveal as little as possible, otherwise the
whole truth could shock her and impede recovery. A half-truth it was going
to be and it choked his lungs to be the one to convey it to her. There wasn’t
any room left for any more guilt. He was already neck deep in it.
 ‘You met with an accident, baby . . .’ he said tenderly, leaning closer to her
face.
Her lips were dry and cut. White lines from dryness bordered them. Her
face looked pale, dull and almost lifeless. Her hair, tied loosely in a ponytail,
looked a mess. Once, such a beautiful face now looked so miserable. He was
relieved that the rest of her body was covered.
They looked into each other’s eyes.
‘Do you remember?’ he asked.
She shook her head lightly. More tears came into her eyes and fell down
her cheeks landing on the white pillow that already had some minute dried
bloodstains on the edge. This innocent display of helplessness and suffering
tore Rajveer’s heart. He wanted to hold her in his arms, instead he put his
arms around her head and kissed her hair. He held her like that for some time,
and then released her saying, ‘It was a road accident. Yes.’
“B . . . bad . . . bad . . . ac . . . ci . . . dent?’ she asked softly.
Rajveer took a moment to speak but could not and so he only nodded and
then looked away. The next time he could speak he added, ‘You were
walking on the road outside the school that evening. It had rained heavily . . .’
At the mention of rain, Lavanya’s eyes shifted to the ceiling as she tried
hard to recall. ‘Ye . . . ye . . . rain . . . rain,’ Lavanya finally uttered. Her eyes
were still glued to the ceiling. Then she said one more name, ‘Chu . . .
Chutki!’
The mention of Chutki made things even more difficult for Rajveer.
‘Do you remember anything else?’ he immediately asked.
She slowly shook her head in denial.
‘Don’t worry. You will be fine,’ he said, rubbing his hand over her
forehead, attempting to avoid any further discussion on that subject.
‘Ca . . . car hi . . . hi . . . hit . . . me?’ she asked.
Rajveer didn’t reply.
‘Hmm?’ she asked again.
‘Yes,’ holding back the tears in his eyes he said and immediately added,
‘Don’t think about it now. Go to sleep.’
 “Hi . . . hit and . . . and . . . run?’ Rajveer understood she wanted to know
more about the accident. This time he lied and nodded his head.
‘Close your eyes and sleep, Lavanya.’
‘The dri . . . ver . . . was caught?’ she almost whispered. He voice began to
break.
That question stabbed his chest. He wasn’t prepared to answer it.
Lavanya kept looking at Rajveer in anticipation of the answer. He didn’t
know what to say!
But help came from a totally unexpected direction. ‘Ahhhhh!’ Lavanya
screamed and her facial muscles twitched.
‘What happened? What happened, baby?’ Rajveer asked.
‘Needles . . . needles . . . lots of them,’ suddenly, her voice grew louder.
She was in pain and continued to shout, ‘Pricking in my right foot. Ahhhhh . .
. aaahhhhh. Or are they ants?’
She tried to get up but could not move her hip at all. She shouted at
Rajveer to get the ants out. He stood confused, wondering how that could be
possible. Unable to bear it, Lavanya dug her nails in his wrist and asked him
to look for them on her right foot and help her.
But there was no way Rajveer could have done that, for Lavanya didn’t
have a right leg any more.
 Twenty-seven

‘It’s called a phantom limb pain,’ the doctor gave the medical term to Rajveer
and then explained it further.
‘It’s the pain in the limb that’s no more there. At times, it’s not even the
pain, but the sensation of it, which makes the patient believe that the limb is
still there. We call it the Phantom Limb Syndrome.’
Finally sitting in the doctor’s chamber after having waited for too long for
him, Rajveer tried his level best to understand. The doctor continued to talk,
‘People feel itching sensations on the limb even though it’s not there. There
have been cases in which patients, who have recovered after a lower limb
amputation, woke up from sleep in the middle of the night in order to go to
the washroom and fell down while taking the first step, simply because they
had forgotten that they don’t have that limb any more. They were in a
subconscious state at that moment. This all sinks in gradually. We make
patients sit on beds and for long stare at themselves in the mirror to
internalize their new limitations. They have to make their subconscious mind
come to terms with the fact that they do not have that limb any more.’
It all appeared captivatingly strange to Rajveer. All he then asked was,
‘But why does this happen?’
The doctor offered him the reason. ‘See, when we amputate the limb, it’s
not like we amputate all the nerves that were a part of it. We tie these nerves
into a knot and place them with the muscles and tissues at the end of the
stump, the leftover part of the limb in the body. Technically, there is a
transfer of signals from the brain via these nerves. While the limb is no
longer there, the nerve is still active and it makes the brain believe that the
limb too is there. We can’t just cut this main branch of nerves for they have
several other tasks to perform.’
 While he understood what the doctor was saying, the sad part was that it no
way decreased his pain.
The doctor also told him that because Lavanya’s spinal cord had taken a
hit, the signals that the brain supplied and got back via the nerve were
involuntary. At present there was nothing much that they could do apart from
administering certain drugs on a trial basis.
It pained Rajveer to know that Lavanya would have to go through this, but
he also wanted to understand everything so he could help her as much as he
could. There was one more question he had, ‘She doesn’t remember the
accident. Why?’
‘Hmm . . . yes, it’s quite common in accident victims. Medical research
has an explanation for this. You see, in certain life-threatening trauma
accidents, our brain enters a more alert, but also highly stressed state. As a
result of this, it stops working on making memories and puts everything
behind saving life. Hence, when the patient regains consciousness, he or she
is not able to recall what exactly happened in that moment, for there is no
memory of that moment which the brain has stored,’ the doctor said, and after
a gap of a few seconds he added, ‘in a way it is actually a good thing as it
saves the patient from revisiting that trauma.’
Rajveer thoughtfully nodded. The entire conversation had left him
differently anxious.

‘NO! NO! NO!’ Lavanya screamed her lungs out.

The counselling psychologist, along with a team of doctors, Rajveer and
Lavanya’s aunt by her side, had finally passed the grim news.
‘This can’t be true!’ she vociferously refused to believe it. And then she
repeated the same phrase a couple of times. With every repetition, her voice
dropped a bit and with every pause she seemed to become less confident and
less self-assured of her claim. No one around her uttered anything while she
continued to shout in denial. Her rejection of it was futile. Offering her much-
needed support, Lavanya’s aunt strongly held her hand in hers. She knew
there was time before she would even attempt to console her niece. When
finally Lavanya looked at her face holding so many questions in her innocent
eyes, her aunt simply wrapped her head in a circle of her arms.
The brutal truth remained.
Lavanya looked around. There was complete silence around her. So it was
true!
Her breathing became faster and shallower and her eyes opened wide in
disbelief. She looked at Rajveer. She wanted him to deny it for her, for them,
but he didn’t. He stood there with his arms folded, his head bent.
Something died in her at that moment. A part of her body had been
snatched away from her and burnt before her death.
She interpreted the silence in several different ways. Her life had changed
for the worse. She would never be the same again. She would now be called
disabled, though there would be a few people who would make a better
choice of words and call her differently abled and yet it would make no
difference to her. A difficult future awaited her as soon as she got out of that
bed. But then that too looked like a distant possibility because it would be a
while before her spinal cord would heal. And till then she would be confined
to a wheelchair. These thoughts made her extremely restless. She tried to
look at the lower half of her body, but couldn’t. The lean cushion below her
head didn’t offer her eyes a straight view. She tried to push all her weight on
her arms and get up, but failed. Rajveer immediately stepped forward and
held her by her shoulder and stopped her from attempting it. But she had
become stubborn and angry. That’s what misery does to people at times.
‘Don’t push yourself, Lavanya,’ the psychologist spoke gently. ‘I
understand your pain and frustration.’
His words went unheard. She kept trying. It didn’t matter what anybody
said. Watching her determination, the doctor asked the nurse to elevate her
bed. It was important that they do what she wanted—to see what was no
longer there.
Seeing her attempts, the neurosurgeon spoke, ‘It is very sad, Lavanya, that
this has happened to you. Eventually, we all have to accept things that we
can’t change. From where I see this, we have been able to save a life and let
go of a limb. You were brought to us in such a condition that we couldn’t
save it. I am sure it is very difficult for you, but trust me, we are here to help
you get back to your life. However, it will take time. I am very sorry to say
this, but your spinal cord has taken a major hit. It will take you a while before
you will be able to get up. However, I am very sure that with time, medicines
and physiotherapy you will be able to get up on your own.’
Trauma has a threshold, beyond which it fails to make any considerable
difference. Lavanya’s suffering had already crossed that limit. The shock was
so intense that it didn’t make her weep or pity her own self. It simply made
her numb, as if she were in a trance. In that same subconscious mind, when
the bed was finally elevated, she asked the nurse to lift her bed sheet. At the
doctor’s silent nod, the nurse followed the instruction. Bandaged in thick
layers of white dressing and fresh bloodstains, two-thirds of her right leg was
all that she could make out. Her eyes didn’t move, neither did any of her
facial muscles. She was absolutely still. Ideally, she should have cried. She
wanted to, but the shock had choked her tears.
‘We have been able to save the knee joint. Medical science has made
enough progress and with the modern day prosthetics and given that your
knee is intact, you will be able to walk, run and do everything,’ the
orthopaedic surgeon said. ‘All that can be done once the spinal cord
recovers.’
The doctors played with words. That’s all they had to offer at that moment.
The sugar-coating of hope around the tragedy failed to do anything to
Lavanya. She didn’t even acknowledge their opinion. Their presence around
her was already of no use to her.
‘Put me down. I want to sleep,’ Lavanya said to no one in particular. Her
eyes were still stuck on what was left of her leg. The nurse pulled back the
bed sheet over her and lowered the bed.
One of the doctors began to say something, but Lavanya interrupted him, ‘I
want to sleep. Please leave. All of you.’
‘Lavanya!’ her aunt tried to speak to her, trying to give her hope and build
her confidence, but Lavanya cut her short. She didn’t want to hide behind
words. Not in that moment.
 Rajveer wanted to stay back, but Lavanya was adamant. She didn’t want
him to tell her about what she should or shouldn’t be doing. She just wanted
to be left alone.
‘I am waiting outside. Any time you need me,’ Rajveer whispered, leaning
into her ears, and he was the last one to walk away from her bed.
With her eyes closed Lavanya listened to his voice in her ears and then the
complete silence.
She was now alone in the company of her ordeal. A tear squeezed itself out
from within her closed eyes. Then her arms curled to let out a scream of
excruciating emotional pain.
 Twenty-eight

Will you still love me? Caught in her suffering she often talked to Rajveer in
her mind, even in his absence around her. The uncertainty of this thought
amidst the havoc in her life bothered her a lot.
At times, the walk between understanding reality and accepting it is a very
long one. Knowing a hard fact and coming to terms with it are two different
things.
Ultimately, the loss of Chutki’s life appeared to be a way bigger one to
Lavanya than the loss of her limb and her inability to get up due to the
damaged spine. When she got to know of what had happened to the little girl,
she wept for hours in the days that passed by. And if she wasn’t crying she
would keep quiet for a good part of the day. It felt like a curse that for long
had taken away the smile off her face.
Helplessly Lavanya kept thinking of Chutki. Her innocent smile haunted
her and forced her to sob and grieve her loss. She would imagine her
answering questions and at times safeguarding her white shoes from the boy
who sat next to her, who would try to sketch something on them. In the little
sleep she got that day, she saw Chutki in her dreams. Her voice echoed in
Lavanya’s head. When she woke up from her sleep she missed her even
more, for moments back she was with her. She’d never thought that life
would suddenly turn so grim.
While Lavanya thought Chutki’s fate was worse than hers, it was also
about perspectives. Who gets to decide if leading a miserable life isn’t as bad,
or even worse, than the loss of life?
Rajveer could not bring back the limb he had unknowingly taken away
from her. But he could do all that he was capable of doing to reduce the loss
of it. He knew in his heart that even then all his efforts put together would be
minuscule in comparison to the life Lavanya otherwise would have led. Not
only as his penance, but also as his responsibility towards his beloved, he
chose to become Lavanya’s support system. And he knew he wasn’t doing it
as a short-term arrangement, but for the rest of her life—for the rest of their
lives.
It was essential to keep hope alive in Lavanya’s heart, he realized. She
needed to know that life wouldn’t be as terrible as it appeared on the hospital
bed at that time. Medical science, prosthetics, physiotherapy, and more
importantly he himself—were all there for her hopes of the future. He had
been the devil. He was now trying to become the deliverer.
As days passed by, Lavanya’s recovery picked up pace. She was
eventually moved out of the ICU and shifted to an inpatients’ ward, where
she was given a single room. The room had all the amenities from a
television set to an attached washroom. On his visitor’s pass, Rajveer could
now be with Lavanya for as long as he wanted. He made full use of it and
practically lived out of her room. Lavanya’s aunt, who had to suddenly fly
out of the UK to see her niece, had some high-priority unfinished work back
there. She worked for the ministry and was in charge of an international
delegate. Her deliverables were already delayed by two weeks and needed her
immediate attention. She wasn’t willing to leave Lavanya for the sake of her
work, but when the latter insisted a lot, and seeing her recover, she booked
return flight tickets to the UK. Her plan was to finish the handover of her
work and get back to India by the next week. Besides, by then, through her
numerous conversations with Rajveer and his family, she had gained enough
confidence that her niece was amidst the right people. Hence, she left for the
UK.
On many occasions in the guest visiting hours, Rajveer’s parents visited
Lavanya as well. Fate had fixed for her to meet them in this condition.
These were the very people, who only till weeks back weren’t ready to
accept Lavanya in their family. They had realized they were wrong and it was
time for them to correct that wrong. One early morning in a private
conversation, while having his bed tea, going through the recent events that
had unfolded in their lives, Rajveer’s father had very thoughtfully shared
with Rajveer’s mother.
 ‘Our younger son has taught me how to stand up for love.’
Seconds later, Rajveer’s mother had added to it, ‘His love for this girl is so
pure.’
They both knew that Rajveer had the option to run away from all that he
was in at the moment, but that he chose otherwise made them feel extremely
proud of him.
‘And we were denying him the true love of his life.’ He had chuckled with
guilt, mocking himself in front of his wife. ‘In those love stories we want
Mirza–Sahiba and Heer–Ranjha to come together, but in practical life we
land up becoming the very society that stops them from being together,’ he
thoughtfully added.
They both knew what they were going to do then.
Ever since that conversation between the two had happened, so much had
changed in them. They turned out to be very supportive of Rajveer’s mindset
and efforts. They understood that he needed to do this for his own mental
well-being as well.
The fact of the matter was Rajveer’s parents were welcoming Lavanya as a
part of their family when she was at the lowest point of her life, when she
couldn’t stand on her feet—quite literally. While most folks would run away
from a life of being tied to this big a responsibility, their son, for the first time
was taking it on the chin and doing everything he could to correct the course.
It made Rajveer earn not only their love but their respect as well.
When Lavanya was allowed a solid diet, Rajveer would feed her. By then
he had learnt to incline and recline her bed at the different angles, with the
push of the buttons. He would at times insist and give her a sponge bath, even
though there were nurses to do this. Being with her, he could monitor her
treatment and call for the doctors and nurses in case of delays. There were
moments when even after pressing the bell switch, the nurses wouldn’t turn
up. And in these instances, if Lavanya was in pain or even slight discomfort,
he would rush to fetch help. From monitoring the levels of her urine bag to
telling her jokes and making her laugh, he did everything that was good for
her.
 Even though the time wasn’t right, or perhaps in a way it could never have
been more right to test the strength of their relationship, Rajveer brought up
the subject of marriage.
‘After we get out of this hospital, I want to marry you,’ he said one day
when they were talking.
Lavanya knew why he had said that. While she was glad he’d said this at a
point in time when her future was so uncertain, she didn’t want him to marry
her out of pity or sympathy. Even though life had hit her hard, Lavanya
prized her self-respect above everything else and all she wanted to do was to
go through life with her head held high.
She kept looking into Rajveer’s eyes. Then she shook her head. Indicating,
that it wasn’t going to happen, she wouldn’t agree to it. In response, Rajveer
nodded vigorously.
‘Why would you choose to marry a disabled person?’ she asked softly.
‘Because I love you,’ he said.
And that was it.
Nothing else was spoken. Their eyes held a conversation of their own
where they looked at each other for commitment but Lavanya soon turned her
face away. Her eyes turned moist.
‘Mom and Dad have accepted you,’ Rajveer said.
She turned back with a puzzled look.
‘They have. That evening, I was on my way to tell you this, when all this
happened,’ he said, throwing up his hands in despair.
‘They had accepted an abled girl, Rajveer . . .’ Lavanya made her point
lightly.
‘They accept you today as much as they had accepted you then. I know
that.’
Lavanya didn’t believe that part. There was no reason why the family,
which once didn’t find her north-eastern identity a match for their son, would
now accept a disabled north-eastern girl. If anything, she felt that the family
had surrendered to their son’s obstinacy. That wasn’t enough for her. She
didn’t want to hold the situation hostage and plan a life together with Rajveer
based on that. Of course, she wanted to marry him long before the horrible
accident happened and even now, but she didn’t want to become the cause of
misery for either him or his family. She didn’t want Rajveer to rush into
anything without realizing how difficult life now would be for anybody who
accepted her as a life partner. In fact, she didn’t know if anyone else would
ever marry her, but she was determined that this was certainly not the time
when she wanted to even think about marriage.
‘I don’t want to marry yet, Rajveer. I want to recover and then finish my
MBA first,’ she said determinedly.
Rajveer knew Lavanya had truly loved him. And therefore even in her
condition, in spite of very clearly remembering the fact that months back she
had accepted his marriage proposal, she’d thought of Rajveer’s interests
before her own. This was exactly what made Rajveer desire her even more.
That was love. What else could it be?
In order to help Lavanya get rid of her recent inhibitions, Rajveer’s mother
had a heart to heart chat with her. His sister-in-law too had a separate talk
with her. The conversation with a lady who was married into the family
uplifted her morale but could not change her decision. The entire family
assured her that irrespective of her decision, they considered her to be a part
of their family and that they respected her. They also insisted that till she was
able to walk again they wanted her to live with them. After refusing several
times to start with, Lavanya finally gave in. She had to say yes to something.
She chose the arrangement that was temporary in nature.
At the family’s insistence, she agreed to live with them till at least her
spine recovered and she was able to sit and stand. Nobody knew how much
time it was going to take. For the first two weeks, her wound needed dressing
on alternate days. Once the stitches were removed, she was to undergo
physiotherapy. All of it was meant to be done at home. The guest room in
Rajveer’s house had already been arranged to welcome Lavanya for her stay.
Lavanya’s B-school too agreed to her request to join classes whenever she
recovered. Two of the administration members had visited her in the hospital
and assured her of the school’s support. She would be allowed to take the
terms that she had missed and was going to miss in the subsequent year. It
 THE BEGINNING

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This collection published 2018

Copyright © Ravinder Singh 2018
The moral right of the author has been asserted
Jacket images © Neelima P Aryan
ISBN: 978-0-143-42936-4
This digital edition published in 2018.
e-ISBN: 978-9-387-62545-7
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold,
hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover
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