She smiled, I smiled.

She blinked her eyes, I blinked mine.

Kissing my forehead one more time, she said, *I love you soooooooooo much, Shona.'

And I rubbed my nose against hers one more time and repeated, *I love you so so so so much, sweetheart.'

We had been so busy with our romance that we forgot to look at the time. We had asked the cab driver to be there at the hotel entrance by 7.30. The wall clock in front of me said it was 8.30. *Uh-oh! Do you know what time it is?' I asked, very casually, smiling. She immediately looked at the clock. And then she screamed, just like the way she did the day before.

*EIGHT THIRTY????'

And with that, she got up from the bed, panicked, rushed here and there grabbing her belongings, her cell, her purse, her sandals ... and a lot more. I switched on the lights to help her.

She then rushed to the washroom, splashed a little water on her face, used the spare towel hanging behind the door, pulled a comb out of her purse, got her hair done, pulled out a lipstick and daubed it on her lips.

Watching her, I wondered how much lipstick I had swallowed and I laughed at myself without saying anything. As she was getting ready, I picked up her purse. *Boy! Seems like a magical purse. So many things are coming out of it-comb, lipstick, hanky ... Let me see what else is left in this,' I said laughing.

And at that very moment, she slapped my hand which was trying to unzip the purse. *Bad manners! A boy should never check a girl's purse.' *But, why? Do you girls carry bombs in your purses?' I said handing it over. *Even at my office, they have appointed a lady at the gate to check the purses of all the girls. I wonder what funny things those girls show her in their purses ... they smile looking at her and then she smiles back at them.' I laughed at my joke, but she didn't.

She was worried about getting late. I noticed that and, parking my lavish laughter somewhere, tried to console her with a smile, *It's ok, Khushi. Relax. We'll reach your place before 10 p.m. Don't worry, dear.'

Wearing her sandals, she said, *Shona, if we don't reach on time and they find out at home, na, I'll be in big trouble.'

Seeing her in this state I went close to her and put my hands on her shoulders. *Khushi. Everything is going to be fine. No matter what, you won't be in any trouble. I promise. Will you trust me now?' I gently asked her.

And very innocently she nodded her head.

*Take a deep breath, have a sip of water and we will move out.'

A few minutes later we were in the back-seat of our cab.

*Bhaiyya, back to Faridabad, from where we came,' Khushi said to the driver, in haste.

But, as we found out when we came out of the hotel, it had rained heavily during the past hour. Water was flushing down from the corners of the roofs of nearby buildings, rattling down pipes from various floors to the common ground. Manholes on the roads were open to let the acc.u.mulated water on the streets drain out.

Our cab started rolling.

*Bhaiyya, how long will it take?' she asked the driver.

*Kuch keh nahin sakte, madam. Bahut baarish hui hai. Bus aagey road pe kahin jam na laga ho.'

The thought of a possible traffic jam worried her all the more. She looked at me. And I told her to relax. *I am there with you, right? So why are you worried? We'll reach on time.'

Hearing my tone, the driver too realized that he should not scare her. In fact, he added, *Madam, ghabraane waali to koi baat hi nahin hai. Hum pahunch jaayenge.'

But soon we found ourselves in trouble. About fifteen minutes from my hotel we got stuck in a traffic jam-probably the biggest I have ever seen in my life. There were hundreds of cars in front of us, I'm sure. A horrible jam. Water rushed over the roads towards the drains. Everything out there was wet. The shops were closing; their wet shutters were rolling down. The cars, big and small, struggled to find their way. None of the vehicles on that road stayed in line. Everyone was on their own, finding a little s.p.a.ce for themselves, competing with each other because of which no one was able to move ahead. What a mess!

*A truck's engine has failed to start, half a kilometer ahead,' we heard, when our driver rolled his window down. Hearing this, almost everyone switched off their engines. Inside our cab, the mercury of panic and helplessness was rising.

Half an hour after the most wonderful time together in my hotel room, we were now entering a phase full of anxiety and despair. With me was a girl who had lied to her family and managed to escape with me. Apart from her office, she had never stayed out so late at any other place. But that day, she was in another state and the guy she had put all her trust in (of course, me) was not familiar with the city. And time ... Time was running fast in my wrist watch, but stood stagnant when I glanced at the traffic around us. Fifteen minutes pa.s.sed and our cab did not move an inch. It would be wrong to say that I was not panicking. But I was aware of my responsibilities. I was responsible for Khushi's safety.

Eventually, our cab driver also switched off the cab's engine which raised the already high levels of anxiety within us still higher. Somehow, a running engine in a traffic jam still appears more hopeful than a switched-off one. Of course, it's all psychological but, unfortunately, it made an impact on both of us.

And since it never just rains, but it pours-Khushi's cellphone started ringing.

She looked at me in fear. I looked at my watch. It was close to 9 p.m.

*What if it's Mumma's phone?' she asked, worried and all I could say was, *First see who's calling.'

She opened her purse and breathed a sigh of relief. *Thank G.o.d! It's Neeru.'

She put the phone on speaker. Clearing her throat and recovering her strength (which she lost when she heard the ring), she said, *Neeru.'

*Where are you, yaar?' Neeru asked.

*Yaar, we're stuck in a traffic jam.'

*But you're in Faridabad only na?'

*Haan baba ... We went to see a movie. Meanwhile it rained heavily and all the water on the road has caused a traffic jam and we're stuck.'

*Theek hai, but come home quickly. I have reached home and have told Mumma that your doubt cla.s.s got delayed and you'll reach here in another twentyathirty minutes.'

*Thanks. We're just waiting for this jam to clear. I'll be home soon,' Khushi said and hung up.

Twentyathirty minutes!? n.o.body could drive to Faridabad that fast, even if the roads were completely empty. Even Khushi knew that.

*Shona, I'm feeling very tense,' she said, her voice scared and soft.

But obviously we'd be tense. Still, I said, *I know dear. But we should not lose patience. In the worst case, we'll reach your place a little late, right? Don't worry. If that happens, I will explain everything to Mumma. Theek hai?' I tried to console her, raising my hand to move her head close to me so that she could rest on my shoulder.

The next moment we noticed the traffic moving ahead from one corner of the road. Like everyone else, our driver started the engine and followed the herd of the vehicles. A ray of hope brightened our faces.

In a while our driver gave us a reason to bolster our smile. *Sahib ab nikal jaayenge aaraam se, jam khul gaya hai. Bas ek baar border cross kar lein. Phir highway theek hai.'

He was referring to the Delhi-Haryana border which we successfully crossed in another 20 minutes. But our destination was still miles away.

Her head was still on my shoulder and I kept talking to her, trying to divert her mind. She was moving her fingers on my palm, drawing imaginary lines, playing like a kid. When she reached my third finger, she started playing with the ring I was wearing. It was an unusual ring with three intersecting silver circles, just like the Olympic circles.

When she asked me about that ring, I took it as an opportunity to divert her from the panic of the moment and started telling her a little story about my ring which became as mysterious as The Lord of the Rings.

*Aaah!' I said, as if she had stepped on a broken limb.

*What happened?' she asked, raising her head from my shoulder.

*Nothing,' I replied very sadly, turning my head to the other side, looking outside the cab's window.

Surprised by my reaction, she did not say anything but waited for me to speak. And I did, saying, *I knew, someday I would have to tell you about this ...'

This statement raised her eyebrows and she insisted I tell her everything. I kept looking out of the window and she kept asking me to reveal the story behind it. *Bataao na Shona ... Tell me please ...'

I was killing time. The cab was speeding ahead. And thoughts were running through her mind about the mystery ring on my third finger. More so, because I appeared so reluctant to tell her.

*Shona tell me na ... kya baat hai,' she again asked, turning my face towards her with her hand.

*Khushi ...'I said, looking at her.

*Hmm ...?'

*Almost a year back, before I met you ... Before I met you ... I mean ... It was like ... One day a beautiful girl put this ring on my finger ...' and I turned away, avoiding her eyes and looking outside the cab again.

Silence ...

She was still listening-all ears-forgetting completely that we were getting late.

Looking out of the cab I continued, *I always wanted to tell you this, but ... but never got a chance, for I didn't know how you will feel about all this.'

Her eyes were staring at me with so many questions.

The next second, her cellphone rang. It was Neeru again, saying how their mom was getting restless and the fact that, by now, she knew well enough that Khushi had not been to IMS but somewhere else with me. She also said that it was raining heavily in Faridabad. And all that Khushi told her was to manage the situation somehow, *Tell her that I am stuck in the rain.' Sweet Neeru was bouncing like a shuttle between her mother and her sister. This is the fate of being the youngest in the family-everyone tends to push you around.

The moment she hung up, she returned to the earlier topic.

*A girl gave you this?' she asked, looking at the ring and then at me. That wasn't her only question, though. There was a fusillade, ready for me. And I kept beating around the bush. This went on for some 15 minutes, when she finally asked me, pulling my hand over her head, *Swear on me, did a girl slip this on your finger?'

So much expectation in her eyes. Expectation that I should speak the truth. And also the expectation that my answer should be a big *No'-which would have meant that my entire story was a lie meant only to scare her. But, breaking her second expectation, I nodded my head, acknowledging that all she heard was true.

Pin-drop silence ...

The environment inside the cab now was much more tense. The traffic jams, reaching home late, standing before her mother to admit her lie, all of this appeared so minuscule in front of this giant truth. The girl, who was in my arms so pa.s.sionately an hour ago, was now facing such a different truth. I expected her to shout at me, to yell at me, to do something before I told her. And I wanted this to continue for a few more miles.

And I was doing that for a reason. The more time I consumed, the lesser she would have worried about reaching home so late. It was already 10 p.m.

But when that sweet and innocent heart sobbed, when the first tear came out of those beautiful eyes, I had to break the mystery. How could I see her crying?

*Hey Shonimoni ... Listen to me.' And I took her in my arms and said, *All that you heard was true, but in a totally different aspect. You have to know the complete story.'

*Tell me then,' she said, rubbing her eyelash like a kid, her eyes on me again.

*The girl who slipped this on ... I don't even know her name. I hardly met her for ten minutes. Almost a year back, I was at Waterloo station in London along with my friend, waiting for my train to Belgium. Because my train was a little late, my friend and I visited a little stall on the platform near us. A girl in that stall was selling rings. From the display, I liked this one and picked it up. But I was wondering how to wear this ring with three circles. To help me, she held my hand and slipped it on. It looked good. I thanked her, paid her five pounds and walked away to catch my train.'

With that, my tense expression turned into a mischievous one and I noticed the curve of her lips expanding every microsecond. Her wet eyes were now glittering again.

*One more thing ...'I interrupted her smile. *That girl ... She was d.a.m.n beautiful!' And I laughed.

And she laughed too, punching me on my chest and shoulders. *Youuuu ... You know how badly you scared me? I'm gonna kill you,' she kept shouting at me and punching me while I was trying to safeguard myself.

But the next minute, her cell rang again and on its screen was flashing *Neeru calling ...'

Khushi took the call and said, *Neeru ... I'm just about to reach ... And listen ...'

She did not complete her line but paused then and there. It wasn't Neeru, but her mom.

The fear returned to her face. She was shaking. Patting the shoulder of the driver she gestured him to mute the radio, and with a finger on her lips told me to stay silent. Then she put her cell on speaker again. It was 10.10.

She tried hard to convince her mom that she was still at IMS, stuck in the rain. I don't know how successful she was. It was getting difficult for her to hide the truth. The last thing she told her mom was not to worry as her entire batch was with her, after which both of them hung up.

All my effort to divert her attention to something else with my ring story crashed in a minute. While she kept her cell back in her purse, the driver turned the radio on again, at a low volume.

By then we were on Mathura Road, heading towards her home in Faridabad.

*Bhaiyya, how much more time?' she asked the driver.

But the driver did not respond and I sensed something was very wrong.

A never-ending pool of water was in front of us, covering everything on the ground. The road had disappeared and even the divider was submerged. Our cab was, even now, running on water-covered road. Every single minute, the water level was increasing, reaching almost a foot. The culprit was Faridabad's fabulous drainage system.

There were no street lights on that road. Or if there were, they were out of order. In that pool of water, there were various vehicles struggling to move ahead, inch by inch. In the headlights of our cab I saw waves in the water, carrying leaves and stems of small creepers and weeds, beating against the bodies of the vehicles stuck in the spate. The cab was still going ahead, at a slower speed. We were moving into deeper water now and, finally, the driver said he couldn't go ahead. *Sahib ye choti gaadi hai, engine mein paani chala jaayega. Hum aur aagey nahin jaa sakte.'

I tried to persuade him to go ahead but he was adamant and I got furious. *Bhaiyya. Is vakt na, mera dimaag bahot jaada kharaab ho raha hai, aur agar fir se tumne ye kaha naa ...' I said to him, losing my patience, when Khushi held my wrist stopping me from saying any more. She knew we did not have any option but to survive on the driver's mood. So I changed my tone and told him in a gentlemanly way, *Bhaiyya, mujhe sirf inhe ghar tak pahonchaana hai. Aap please aagey chalte raho. Agar aapki cab kharaab hui to jo bhi kharcha hoga vo main de dunga.'

With my pleading, somehow he agreed to move ahead. He drove the cab further but the going was very slow.

It was 10.30 now. I knew that our situation was tense, and I was sick and tired of being tense.

Our cab was stuck in that messy pool when, all of a sudden, a truck pa.s.sed us on our left. I saw those giant wheels churning the water like a turbine, generating big waves of water. I was trying to show Khushi those circular waves, whose circ.u.mference was exponentially rising from my left to her right, when I felt my socks getting wet inside my shoes.

*What the f.u.c.k!?'

The dirty water on the road was now seeping into our cab. Water, water and more water ... Everywhere. Bubbling sounds came from under the cab's doors. Our feet were dipped in water, like tea bags in a cup of tea.

*s.h.i.t ... so much water?' she screamed.

We took off our shoes and lifted our legs up on the seats.

*Yeh to hona hi tha,' the driver said.

At that time, we were not very far from her house. On a normal day, it would have been a fifteen-minute drive. But stuck in that disaster, it was hard to predict how long it would take.

Gradually, the view outside our cab was getting even worse. One by one, almost all of the vehicles stopped moving. Their engines took their last breaths and failed to start again. I saw people getting out of their cars and pushing them from behind, in order to get them out of that pool. It was a complete mess. People, with their trousers rolled up to their knees, barefoot, out of their vehicles, were shouting at each other for various reasons and for no reason. Some of them had even taken off their shirts.

The few, who were still behind the steering wheel, were struggling hard to drive and constantly cursing each other, especially the autorickshaw-wallas. *Tere baap ki sadak hai?' *Abey saaley peeche hatt!' *Arey teri maa ki ...' They were getting into fights, leaving behind their dead autos.

Back in the cab our minds were tense and tired of the events of the last two hours. Looking at her then, I found her hands joined and eyes closed. She was praying to G.o.d. She was very scared. And maybe her prayers were being heard. Maybe that was why our small cab was still moving ahead in the water when almost all the small cars on that road had broken down.

Meanwhile, she got another call from her mother, who was now more furious and more worried. And when she said that she had called up Khushi's cousin (who also lived in Faridabad) to go to IMS and bring her home, we had to reveal the truth.

Taking a deep breath Khushi said, *Mumma, main IMS mein nahin hun. Main Ravin ke saath hun ... shaam se. I am sorry ki maine aapko jhoot bola.'