Vinita Das is my close friend. In fact she is my only friend. Ever since she found me twenty years ago when I was a three year old kid in Madras, she and I have become inseparable. We are friends – we have so far managed to remain that way.

My name is Siddharth Mahapodhyaya – People call me Sid. I happen to be a young engineer working for one of the multinational companies in Bangalore. I had had the fortune of spending my childhood in Aamchi Mumbai – amidst the chaos and the frustrating yet delightful journeys in the local trains.

On a particularly boring day – somewhere between Vashi and Victoria Terminus – I chanced upon an ad by this multinational I have just talked about. I proceeded to their office directly. The fact that I had a masters degree in engineering did boost my chances.

When I walked out with the appointment letter in my hand, I found Vinita there on the road – She hugged me and told me that it was the happiest day of her life. She had just landed a job in the same company. I was on cloud nine. She was on seventh heaven.

Quite a few months after that eventful day – today - I close my eyes praying God that the Bommanahalli traffic jam in Bangalore should clear soon. The forty odd employees of my firm – firmly holed up in this bus – should be thinking more or less in the same lines.

That is how life is. One moment you are on the top of the world and the plane doesn’t land even half an hour after reaching the destination – thanks to a Radar problem… The next moment you are seen waiting for the bus to inch ahead in Bommanahalli or Singasandra.

The next moment however you see Vinita cheering at you from outside. You get up – jump off the bus (It is not moving anyway) and go to her.

“Hi Sid, What are you doing there in the bus?” She asks you.

You think for a moment and suddenly it all comes back to you, “I was sleeping.”

She laughs, grabs your hand and leads you to the nearest coffee joint.

“One by two chai” you tell the tea shop owner. He is puzzled, “One by two?”

You insist and introduce Vinita to him. “My best friend loves Chai.”

He nods and mumbles. He then gives you the one by two chai. You both go to a corner table and start sipping the pathetic liquid.

Neither of you speaks anything. You just stare here and there – finish the chai and get back on the road.

“You look fine now. Get back in the bus and wait for it to move ahead.” Vinita bids a goodbye and disappears.

I trace my steps back to the bus which has moved all of three meters by now.

And then I see the jam in its entirety – below me. I see people staring at me. I am reminded of my childhood adventures; of my university days; of my own life. I feel like I am flying in the air – escaping from the clutches of the material world – a moving transformation into the world of Keats, P B Shelly and William Wordsworth – I see birds chirping. I find purple headed mountains. I see rivers running by. I see myself. I see a blank carpet covering everything. I see finally nothing.

A jolt. I open my eyes. I am looking at an old farm house on the banks of a river. I am floating in air. I see two people in front of me – fighting. I realize one of them is me myself. I also find that the second one is Vinita Das. I don’t quite understand how I am able to view myself. I don’t worry about it. I concentrate on their costumes. Medieval England perhaps. Or renaissance? Can’t say. I am poor in history.

Suddenly my image draws a sword and beheads Vinita. I try to stop myself. I can’t touch them. I shout… I cry… I run around Vinita’s lifeless body. Another jolt. Everything is fading out. Where is Vinita? What happened to her? Did I kill her?

“No you didn’t” she says calmly.

I stare at her. She is serious. I look at myself. I am fully covered in bandages.

“What happened?” I ask her.

“You were hit by a speeding van when you were going towards your bus” Vinita tells me.

“I thought there was a traffic jam.” I don’t quite understand how a van can speed in Bommanahalli.

“Yes Sid. You thought so. You were preoccupied with something. You didn’t notice the van. It was actually speeding on the wrong side of the road margin.”

I nod. The doctor comes in and asks me. “What is your name?”

“I am Siddharth – people call me Sid. I am not suffering from short term Amnesia. I remember everything clearly. Even the traffic jam. You can ask Vinita.”

The doctor looks at me, “Is she your friend?”.

“Yes she is. My only friend. My best friend.” I pause and then add, “I killed her doctor. I killed her back in the 18^th century.. or 15^th or whatever.”

He stares at me, “Where is Vinita?”

I look around. She is gone. “I will ask her to meet you.”

He nods. “You told me that you killed her in 17^th century. Could you elaborate on that?”

I close my eyes. “I am not sure about the year Doc. I just saw flashes of that incident. I beheaded Vinita – It all happened right in front of me. I think it was my previous birth.”

“Why would you kill your best friend?” he asks me.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe we were enemies in that birth.”

He smiles, “Well, you’ve got a brand new birth to make up for it.”

Two days later, I come home albeit in a wheel chair. Why did I have to kill Vinita? The question kills me.

“Still thinking about the beheading?” she startles me.

“How do you know?” I ask her.

“You were talking in sleep… I mean when you were unconscious.” She replies.

“Why would I kill you Vinita?” I ask her.

She smiles, “Why worry about it now? I am here for you.”

“But I need to find it out. Leave me alone till I figure this out” I tell her.

She stands up silently, “Is this your final decision?”

I nod.

“I won’t return even if you want me to return.”

I laugh, “Come on! I only asked you to leave me now. Not forever.”

She shakes her head, “You don’t understand. Goodbye.” And she is gone.

I run out from my room. She is nowhere to be seen.

I go to the doctor, “Has Vinita come here?”

He looks me seriously. “Why would she come here?”

“She left my house a while back. I think she is emotionally disturbed that I killed her in 17^th century.” I tell him.

He asks me to sit down, “Why don’t you go to her house?”

“I will” I stand up and start walking towards the door.

At that instant, it occurs to me – the realization – the grand old gap in my whole understanding of what life is all about.

I turn back – face the doctor and declare, “I don’t know where she lives.”

He asks me to sit down.

I do that.

“Isn’t it strange that you don’t know your best friend’s home address?”

I nod.

“Why?”

I think about it. Where does Vinita live? I am unable to recall any visit to her house.

“Why not?”

Always she used to visit me. She used to come to me. Whenever I wanted to talk to her, she somehow managed to come to me.

“Does she have a cell phone?” The doctor takes out his prescription pad.

I don’t answer that question. There is a big turmoil – a twister squeezing every part of my brain – there is something wrong – very wrong – with my perception. I see logic and belief contradicting each other. I am confused.

And then the mist clears. I see light.

“So Vinita does not exist!” I shout.

The doctor shakes his head. “She does exist. In your mind. As far as you are concerned, she is a real person. You brought her into this world. From your reference point, she has a valid presence in this world. It is not right to say she does not exist.”

I slump into the chair. Vinita is imaginary. Vinita is imaginary. My God! Vinita is not real.

“Sid, She is real. She has been there all these years for you. Apart from her, you show no other signs of…” He stops abruptly.

I look up, “Dementia?”

“It is not as bad as it sounds.” He tells me.

I nod, “I understand I have this condition. What should I do now?”

His face glows. “The toughest part of the treatment just got over. Once you believe that you have this condition, the rest is just medication and counseling.”

I stand up. “See you later doctor”

“Don’t be too hard on Vinita, Sid. She deserves better treatment.”

“Yes doctor. I am gonna miss her.”

I walk out – into the green plains. I feel the wind chill. I feel her presence in the air. I feel all alone.

“Sid, surprise!” I turn back to face Vinita. She is laughing, “My God! I can’t believe you bought it. My friend Sanjay played his role perfectly. You don’t know where I live? My Goodness Sid! I live right next to your house in B.T.M. Layout.”

I smile; hold her hand and walk with her into the sunset.

The End.

Rang De Basanti

Many a year ago, there was a small kid who asked his father – “Papa, why do people cry?” – His father replied solemnly, “It is sometimes such a joy to weep – to let tears flow unrestricted – to cry your heart out. It cleanses you – your soul.”

That kid grew up - scared of the system, scared of the politicians, scared of the rowdies and gundas in the neighborhood, scared of not being able to perform well in EAMCET, scared of campus interviews – scared of going up the ladder – scared of marriage of kids of companionship of many many such things.

And one day that kid decided to see Rang De Basanti. In his last thirty years of life, the kid didn’t cry even once in movie halls. Sometimes there were tears in the eyes but those stray incidents did not prepare him for what was in store in Six Degrees Cinema on January 27^th between 11:30am and 2:30pm.

I, the kid, am still dazed by the experience. I am yet to come out of the trans. I am typing all this as soon as I got home so that I would be able to translate into words the incredible experience I have just been through.

Don’t ask me what the storyline is or how the actors performed. That doesn’t matter. Leave all the peripherals aside. When you look at the big picture, in its entirety without dissecting it into unnecessary aspects – Rang De Basanti truly has the capability to influence you – to make you think – think seriously about all of us, the country, the armed forces and the irony of present day India. It is capable of brainwashing you. It is what Swades tried to do but failed. Rang De Basanti, as the Rediff reviewer comments, pulls of the stunt rather remarkably.

Rang De Basanti makes you cry; makes you laugh; makes you think and makes you love your country. I had to fight with all my might to stop the tears from flowing down freely. The girl sitting next to me however was smiling in tears and the guy sitting in the other side had forgotten himself fully and was staring at the screen without even batting an eyelid.

To describe the stunning effect the movie had on the viewers today in Chennai, let me just tell you this. – Seven or eight times during the course of the movie, the entire theatre burst into claps – once or twice people actually rose from seats to laud the effort.

I have never seen such a reception to any movie in my life. Period.

It is pointless to describe the negative points of the movie because in the emotional tsunami generated by the saga – you tend to forget everything and come out a transformed person. There are three or four loopholes or weak spots in the script but I deliberately refrain from discussing them.

Movies like this come once in a decade. I am not sure if this movie would succeed because a significant portion of the movie is in English and there are no commercial elements. However as a fan of good movies, I pray to God that this movie should succeed so that people in the film industry are encouraged to make such movies.

This film is an advertisement of what a good bound script can do. Generalizing this as a Coming of Age movie is doing a great injustice to the writer.

Kudos, Claps and Three Cheers. I hate to give this movie a rating. It is an insult on the movie. Decide yourself.

Monalisa Kumari clicked her SLR twice just to ensure she got the kiss in its pristine beauty. The couple in front of her were blissfully ignorant of the unwarranted intrusion into their public lives. The Alps in the background – slightly aglow because of the setting sun, Monalisa Kumari could not have asked for a better picture.

Once she had the picture perfectly canned, guilt overcame everything. She walked to them and pleasantly called – “Excuse me”

They were startled. The girl blushed. The boy blushed too. Monalisa blushed. And none of them spoke anything.

The boy offered a smile finally. “Hi, I am Prashant. This is Shikha.”

Monalisa presented her Da Vincian smile, “I apologize for spoiling your lovely intimate moment. I am a photographer and your kiss in this setting was really fabulous. I caught it on my camera – It’s gonna be stunning. Black and white and just the yellow glow off the Alps.”

“No No No” Shikha buried her face in her palms.

Prashant looked at Monalisa, slightly embarrassed. “You should have asked us first.”

Monalisa sighed, “Probably! But it will not be natural. And the moment would have gone never to return. If you insist though, I will not publish the photo. Allow me to at least develop the picture and send it to you too.”

They consulted each other in a very low tone. After what seemed like an eternity, the smiling couple waved off Monalisa.

************************************************************************

This is me, Prashant Maharajakumar – the groom whose bride is a wealthy Gulf national’s daughter and an aspiring model, Shikha Deshpande.

We met in an airplane, chatted on the net – fought over a cup of coffee and kissed in front the Father twenty two minutes ago.

By the powers vested in me by God, I now pronounce you man and wife.

By far the sweetest line I have ever heard – put an effective full stop to my life as a bachelor and let Shikha into my life.

Me, Shikha and my life.

It just can’t get better than this.

Some advantages of having a wealthy father in law – We are flying to Switzerland for our honeymoon – The Alps are calling – calling me; calling Shikha; calling both of us – at the same time – together.

I still can’t believe that. Me and Shikha – We will spoken together – within the same sentence, our names together – joined mostly by “And”. People will refer to us collectively – Prashant and Shikha or Shikha aur Prashant.

We are Shikha Prashant and Prashant Maharajakumar – And this is our story.

************************************************************************

“Nice picture” Almond Raj commented – munching a couple of roasted Almonds.

Monalisa nodded. “I can’t use it though. Don’t have the permission. I am just gonna send this to Shikha and Prashant.”

Almond Raj took one long look at the photograph. “Seriously, publish this photo saying the guy is Tom Cruise and the girl, Katie Holmes. People will buy it. I can’t see any facial features. How does it matter to Shikha and Prashant?”

She shook her head, “Unfortunately Raj, promises have to be kept.”

************************************************************************

I am the Shikha, Prashant has so far talked about. His every word is true though we did not fight over a cup of coffee. It was Hot Chocolate. I still remember the day – we hated each other; we fought bitterly; we fell in love; we accepted each other.

I do!

The best decision I’ve made till date. We are together now and no one can separate us. In fact every one is happy with us. My parents, his siblings, my cat, his dog, our relatives – They all accepted us. Us being together.

We are one. Inseparable. We’re going to love Switzerland – It is fun unlimited. Just the two of us – snow clad mountains – rivers frozen – golden rays of sun – petty fights – I love Prashant. I just do. Hence I did.

This is Shikha Prashant, signing off – And welcome to our breathtakingly beautiful but small world.

************************************************************************

Monalisa Kumari unfortunately forgot all about the photo and it relegated itself to the deepest corner of the bottom chest of drawers.

Two years later, she decided to sell off her chest of drawers. That was when she unearthed the photos.

************************************************************************

I stared at the picture. Monalisa has kept her word though it has been over two years. The envelope has the loveliest photo I have ever seen along with the negatives.

Why is life this way? I thought we could be a lovely couple. Shikha and Prashant – one of a kind – happy and content with what we have or don’t have.

What went wrong? Where is that spark? I still love her. I do. There is no romance left in this marriage. We have just been fighting – letting ego come between us and separate us.

And here we are finally. Divorce papers here and our kiss there!

************************************************************************

Monalisa parked her Swift between two imposing Ambassadors and cursed all Indian drivers before she got out of the car. She traveled nearly four hundred kilometers to be here. To meet Prashant and Shikha – drink Chai as per their invitation in Switzerland – and to apologize profusely for the unwarranted delay.

The servant maid answered the door. “They are not here.” She told Monalisa.

“OK. Where are they?” She was disappointed.

“Prashant sir is in Bangalore. Shikha madam in Hyderabad.” The maid replied.

When Monalisa got back to her car, her head was spinning. Prashant and Shikha not living together? Could this be really happening?

She drove out from the apartment complex and weighed her options. She could drive back to Bangalore to meet Prashant. Or she could leave the car there and go to Hyderabad to meet Shikha.

Or she could just watch a movie in Satyam Multiplex, visit another friend and get on with her life.

************************************************************************

I can feel tears rolling off my cheeks. Everything is blurred. I don’t know why Monalisa is standing in front of me now. And I recognized her the moment I opened the door.

The photo in my hand – I don’t know what to do. Should I look at how beautiful life had once been? Should I simply tear it off and be done with it?

No I can’t do that. I can’t damage the picture. It is us. The two of us. It is the only proof that Prashant and Shikha had something magical going between them. Look at us! Oblivious of the surroundings. Just enjoying each other.

Thank you Monalisa, Thank you very much. It is just that the photo arrived just at an inopportune moment. I don’t know what to do. I can’t believe my life is screwed.

I did. I did. He did. And the court undoes it.

Why is this happening? Where are you Prashant? Why have you left me behind?

************************************************************************

Almond Raj clapped and contributed his two cents to the deafening roar from the audience. The CEO of Livid Moments, a magazine dedicated to photography, walked away from the dais.

Monalisa adjusted the mike. “Thanks everyone. I dedicate this award to the guy and the girl who unfortunately could not make it to this meeting. I am sorry I cannot disclose the identity of them.”

************************************************************************

Prashant gave her an envelope.

“Do you want to go there again?” She asked Prashant not opening the envelope – still looking at the picture. He didn’t say anything.

“Let us visit Alps again” She begged him.

He didn’t reply.

“What is in the envelope?” She asked him.

He wouldn’t reply.

She opened it. Swiss Air First Class – Zurich – The coming weekend.

“Prashant, you dog! Thank you.. Thank you very much.” She hugged him.

“Happy Anniversary Shikha” he kissed her.

And they both stared at the picture.

“I feel guilty.” Shikha told him, “We should have let Monalisa publish this piece of beauty. Our features anyway are not discernible.”

“As long as our names are not mentioned, I think I am OK with the idea.” Prashant agreed.

************************************************************************

That’s it. The story is finished. What more do you want from this?

I love her. She loves me. Whatever be the differences of opinion we had had, we decided to start afresh – Give our marriage a chance. We could have done this earlier… but it was the photo which changed our perspective – the way we looked at life – or the way we ignored each other. The photo presented an opportunity – a rare moment of clarity – and in that moment, we realized that we were still in love – that we could still be together – that the spark was not lost.

This is our story – our celebration of being together. I, Prashant Maharajakumar and my wife Shikha Prashant – signing off now. Alps are waiting!

He climbed the parapet wall and looked down.

Eighty feet separated him from the hard ground, a tiled one at that. He looked up. Millions of stars - all eagerly waiting to catch some action. Just 80 feet separated them from him.

Eighty feet.

He had crossed many hurdles, traveled many miles and reached that parapet wall. Eighty more feet and he would be history.

He blinked. He didn’t suffer from depression. He was not short tempered. He believed that death by no means could solve anything.

Yet he stood there on the wall – ready to begin the last journey of his life; the last mile of his quest. The Green Mile indeed.

There was a thunder preceded by a blinding lightning.

He saw God.

And there was a question from Him.

I don’t know what to do God!

God persisted.

I can’t live. If I live, she will die.

Another flash of lightning. He saw his lifeless body on the tiled floor of his apartment complex. The image blurred. Next he saw her on the top of the apartment complex – standing on the parapet wall.

If I live, she will die. She will be murdered.

Then he knew. If he died, she would live but she would end her life. If he didn’t jump off the wall, she would be murdered. Either way it was the end of the road for her. His action would have no effect on the outcome.

He looked at God, eyes moist.

I can’t live without her. If I live, she will die and I will end my life as well because I can’t think of a life without her.

God smiled.

He saw a ripple ripping apart the space time continuum. He saw himself laughing merrily with her – white hair and no teeth.

It is clear God! Either way we will both die. What you are showing me is not real. I don’t know who they are. I don’t know why they want me to kill myself. All I know is that she is with them. And they are merciless. If they can cut the finger of the most beautiful girl in the world and send it as a proof that “she is still alive”, I am sure they would not hesitate to terminate her in the most painful manner.

God replied with silence.

He knew at once what he had to do. He had to gift her, the ability to choose her death. If she wanted to die, she could – as she wanted – according to her protocol. He would not let someone else kill her.

On the other hand, if she wanted to live – to ensure that her man’s sacrifice was not trivialized – He would wait for her up there. He would know he had made the right choice.

The cloud disappeared. His mind was clear and focused. He saw that the last eighty feet of his journey as defined in the protocol did not scare him.

He nodded at God.

God smiled again.

The lightning struck – And persisted – He saw an opening – A way. He walked into the Great Light not waiting for his sweetheart to join him.

“There is a flood alert you know! Looks like the road ahead is under water now. You still want to go that way?” Geeta asked Ishaan.

Ishaan started his motorcycle. “We’d be home before you knew it.”

She put the helmet on and made herself comfortable on the pillion seat. “My dad will kill me if he sees me with you.”

“My mother will kill you if she sees me with you!” Ishaan smiled.

“Same difference.” Geeta laughed.

They took a left turn from the main road.

“A lake? I thought we had a road here.” Ishaan exclaimed. They were riding the machine on a submerged road. It was seven in the evening and there was a slight drizzle. Wherever they saw, they saw only water.

“I’m scared” Geeta clutched his shoulders.

“Me too” He told her.

“Shameless pig. You are NOT supposed to say that. You are supposed to tell me that I shouldn’t worry; that I’d be home before I knew it; blah blah blah.. Yadda Yadda Yadda”

The bike stopped.

“Now what?” she asked him.

“Looks like we gotta walk” Ishaan tried restarting the bike.

“Perfect. What a romantic getaway! Here we are… in the middle of a large lake – with the assumption that there is a road underneath. I can feel it by the way. I love walking any way” Geeta mumbled.

He looked her sympathetically. “Slow down. Slow down. Take it easy. Things happen. This is a challenge and we have to face it. Maybe there is something in it for us”

“In this?” she asked him.

“Yes. Why not? For starters, there is this invaluable concept called – Experience.”

“And?” she probed him.

“Well, who knows? It might be quite useful in future.”

“The experience of walking like this? I don’t think so. I don’t think I am getting into another situation like this ever again. Keep that etched on your mind.”

“Listen” he suddenly stopped walking and stared at the deserted car in front of him. Geeta listened. She could hear nothing but the ripples of water.

“I hear nothing” she whispered.

“Shh” he motioned her to be quiet and gently knocked twice on the window of the car.

For a minute everything was quiet. Then a couple of eyes rose to the window sill and stared at them.

“My God!” Geeta screamed, “There is something in there! Alive!”

The eyes simply stared at them nonchalantly. Life was fast draining out of those eyes. They had to act fast to rescue the dog.

He desperately looked around to see if there was anything he could use to open the car. All he could see was water. It felt as if they were standing right in the middle of an ocean. The thin line separating the road from the lake had long since submerged. Now it was just a plain sheet of water extending to the horizon. It was as deep as fifteen feet at places and as shallow as three inches at others.

“The water level could be rising!” Geeta sounded a word of caution, “Let’s get help!”

Ishaan shook his head. “The puppy won’t hold till then. It is deprived of Oxygen. We got to get him out immediately.”

“Your bike!” Geeta suddenly remembered, “Tool box?”

Ishaan would have hugged her right there if he had time. He just made a mental note of it and waded towards his bike. The spanner greeted him warmly. “Eureka!” he shouted.

“I can’t break the front windshield. I shouldn’t break the rear window either because the puppy might get hurt. I should break open the navigator side window.” He talked to no one in particular. Geeta nodded. She knew Ishaan talked mostly to himself and normally didn’t expect anyone to respond.

He walked slowly to the other side of the car in knee deep water. He paused for a moment when he reached the edge of the car. He didn’t know how deep the water was – in front of him. He didn’t want to take any risks.

“Careful” Geeta shouted.

Ishaan climbed on the bonnet of the car and looked inside. He couldn’t see the puppy. It was pitch dark. He took his chances and hit the window glass with all his might. The glass cracked. It took him nearly five minutes to break open the window.

“Don’t open the door of the car” Geeta cautioned him.

He nodded. It would be like opening the floodgates of a dam. If the puppy was on the floor of the car, the force of water could hurt it.

Methodically he removed all the protruding spikes of glass from the window and called out – “Hi” unsure of whether the dog had been conditioned to respond to such calls.

It didn’t.

“Tommy!” he tried various names. There was no response. He took his mobile phone out and switched on the light. It didn’t help much. He could see that the seats were empty. The light could not illuminate the floor of the car.

“I am going in” he declared.

Geeta gasped. “NO! Too dangerous. There may be a flash flood. See the water level is rising. Let us get out of here. It is too risky Ishaan. Let us go!”

He shook his head. “I can’t let it die here.”

“And I can’t let you die here.” Geeta was furious, “Get moving. Remember! It will be really difficult for me to cross this wretched stretch alone!”

He stared at her, “That is what it is all about, huh? You’re worrying about crossing it alone!”

She smiled, “At the grassroots level, everyone is selfish.”

He examined the window, the horizon and his girlfriend, “Sigmund Freud?”

“What?”

“I mean, have you been reading Freud these days?”

“Yes I am. But that is not the point. And you have just wasted a couple of minutes. The flash flood is nearer now than it was earlier – if at all there is one!” Geeta firmly told him.

He didn’t reply. He knew Geeta would kill him if he didn’t save the puppy. All this talk was for the sake of talking. She knew he wouldn’t let go of the puppy. She didn’t want him to either.

The drizzle intensified into a steady downpour.

“What if it bit me? I am sure it is under severe psychological stress” Ishaan again talked to himself.

“The latest Rabies injection has only one dose. Don’t worry about it. My father will administer it free of cost for you!” She clarified an important fact to Ishaan.

He took a deep breath and squeezed into the car. “Ouch. Shucks man!” He examined his leg. It was a deep cut. Blood was gushing out.

He wasted no time and quickly located the terrified puppy in a corner. It was just days old. Whoever left it there, he could skin them alive.

There was a big roar. “Ishaan”, Geeta cried! He looked back at the horizon. There was a sheet of water coming towards the car.

“Get out of here, NOW” He shouted.

Geeta froze. She was not sure where to go. She had to take a split-second decision.

Ishaan kicked open the door on the other side and swam across the incoming water. In a minute he was outside the car with Geeta.

The wall of water was very close. They didn’t have enough time to escape.

“Climb up the car and hold on to the luggage rack” he shouted.

It hit them with a feverous intensity. They could not withstand the force and were swept off the car. Ishaan gripped the rack as hard as he could and prayed God. He could not breathe.

“Geeta, can you marry me?” He asked her sipping a hot cup of black coffee. The suddenness of the proposal almost threw her off the chair. When she recovered she told him “I can. But will I or will I not is the question.”

It was water all around him. His chest became heavy.

“Stop preaching me English lessons yaar. I am serious. Will you marry me?” He asked again. She bit her lip and told him in no nonsense terms – “Sure”.

He was losing consciousness and continued to swing alternatively between reality and forced introspection of his life thus far.

“Wow! She is cute.” He exclaimed when he saw her at the CoffeeDay outlet. “That is right” agreed Shyam.
“I want to talk to her.” Ishaan declared and boldly made his first move. “Hi, can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

He was desperate for oxygen. He gulped down some water involuntarily.

“Look there is a snake here” Ishaan was thrilled. The snake was not. It just grazed away. He chased it but couldn’t catch it. He was caught by his mother though. A very intense round of spanking followed. He swore he would never again chase anything in his life… a rule he did not break until he ran into Geeta, and the run morphed into a mighty chase to ensure they walked together for the rest of their lives.

There was a light; quite bright it was. More like a halo and it was growing – all pervading – engulfing Ishaan. He was beginning to enjoy it…

He looked in complete disbelief at his score card. His was the worst performance in the class. At this rate, he would not be considered for any of the campus interviews. He went to his room, locked himself up and cried the whole afternoon.

The light suddenly shrank. Then there was a sudden rush of air into his lungs. He couldn’t believe it. He could breathe again. He regained consciousness and lunged for more air as his head emerged from the water.

He opened his eyes and looked around. The water level had risen by a foot. His bike was nowhere to be seen. He looked up at Almighty and offered a prayer to him. He was given a preview of death.

And then he remembered.

“Geeta!” the sheer intensity of that shout could have killed his ailing lungs. He didn’t care. “Geeta” he shouted again.

Water replied with its characteristic ripple – very innocent, gentle and breezy.

“What happened to the puppy?” Dr. Mehta asked Ishaan.

“No idea. I remembered about the puppy only after being rescued from the flood. By then, it was not in my hands. Guess they both are together!” Ishaan replied calmly.

“It’s been almost a year, Ishaan. You need to move on.”

Ishaan looked at the doctor. He could see that the doctor’s eyes were moist. They stared at each other for some time. There was no reason to prolong the conversation. It was a tragedy they had to cope with. One lost his girlfriend and the other, his daughter.

They met on the same day every month; had the same conversation and had tea together.

“Thanks for the tea, Sir” Ishaan told the doctor and traced his steps back home. The road was silent and calm. The horizon was clear. He stopped for a moment. Nine months ago, it was on the same spot that he lost the most precious thing of his life – his life.

The End.