Delhi to Jaipur

by Prashant V Shrivastava
It all began one balmy Saturday morning when I raised my left hand to open a small pocket located at the ceiling of my car. I was searching for a card, which had prepaid validity for national highway tolls. I was a frequent shuttler between Delhi and Jaipur and that is why I had a prepaid card. My hands accidentally hit another button, which opened a curved conversation mirror. The front row passenger could talk to the passengers sitting in the back rows through a conversation mirror. I purchased this SUV after my first salary appraisal. And this giant vehicle had such many small and useful features. 


Delhi to Jaipur by Prashant V Shrivastava
Keeping my eyes glued to the narrow toll plaza lane, I attempted again to open the pocket, which had the toll card. I was successful this time. However, as my fingers expected to pick a card smoothly, I had to struggle. This made me look at the pocket. My eyes caught the conversation mirror. It had a shiny object in the middle. It took me less than a moment to realize what that object was and why it was there in the mirror. Of course, there was someone in the back seat. Meanwhile, the car behind me began to honk so did the toll plaza agent outside the window. I made an extra effort and finally got the card. The agent swiped it and returned it to me. The boom barrier opened and I sped my SUV.  I softly closed the ceiling pocket but did not touch the mirror. Soon when I was sure that I could afford to take my eyes off the road, I peeked into the mirror. I knew it was a two-way mirror so the person in the back seat could also see me.  I was moving my eyes subtly. She had sharp features. Nicely painted lips, nose pin, and black eyes. A sleeveless outfit well carried with a transparent scarf looked elegant and beautiful. Her ears looked soft but bore the weight of her heavy earrings. Earrings were as big as a bangle. But suddenly I realized that a boy was also sitting beside me in the front row. I got careful. To ensure I was a gentleman and innocent by all means, I pretended to close the conversation mirror. I deliberately pushed it much lighter than needed to lock it. The girl and the boy noticed this. I was happy with my success. However, the next moment this win evaporated as the boy shut the mirror. He must have done it out of helping attitude but I was not happy with that help.  One glimpse of her had left me restless. By now, I even was not aware that the boy sitting with me in the front row was her boyfriend, brother, or worst--husband. The two were friends of my close friend who requested me to drop them to Jaipur as I was already going there. The two co-passengers boarded my car just outside my society gate. I was in so hurry that I did not even see the girl properly. Now, since I had seen her face, I had a strong desire to talk to her, get friendly, even though if she belonged to someone else. I had already driven for more than an hour so it was legitimate to take a break. Fortunately, a well-maintained restaurant was in the vicinity. I slowed down the car and then took a careful left turn. As I stopped the car, I asked the boy if he wanted something.  “I’ll take a cold drink. What will you have Didi?”  This was perhaps the best sentence I had heard in ages. He will take the cold drink and the beautiful girl was his sister. Wow. Yayyy!  I immediately rushed back to open the door for her. She was indeed beautiful. Free hair spread on her bright flawless face created a sun-shadow picture. Her tender lips with perfect contour added to the perfection. Her bangle-sized earring made the view expensive and scintillating.  “I’ll help myself. Thanks for asking,” her words were simple. The sound of her voice was as crisp as that of a powerful water stream. Each of her words was clearly spelled and properly pronounced. I, being an editor reviewed her sentence critically and found no mistake. She was flawless.  She got down the car. Salwar suit of traditional style suited her. A thin and transparent scarf tucked somewhere on her shoulders was well carried by her. Her shape revealed her hard work at Gym. Or maybe she had a very balanced lifestyle.  Flat sandals added to her simplicity, which empowered her personality. She asked to be excused and before I could close the door, she had surpassed me. It was my great desire to be in touch with her. And the wind heard me. Her scarf literally kissed my hands. I was glad to wear a polo t-shirt that day.  I ordered my tea and the other two had water and cold drink respectively. We were back on the road and this time, she was sitting beside me. No idea why she chose to be there. Maybe she found me reliable or she realized that in order to see her through the conversation mirror, I might lose focus on the road. But my speculation ended when she herself told that her brother wanted to sleep and she did not want a drowsed co-passenger in the front seat.  “Beauty with the brain,” I told myself but I guess she heard me. I can say so because as soon as I finished the sentence in my heart, she smiled in a strange acknowledgment. The road was better and this time was amazing.   I suggested her to browse through the song albums to choose her favorite songs. She agreed and whatever she played, looked pleasing to the ears. Soon she started talking herself.  “This car is much comfortable than my Dad’s Sedan,” she said.  “This is not a car dear. This is an SUV,” I finished replying.  Shruti. My name,” she smiled and it appeared that many beats of Jal Tarang played in one go. Her smile had a melody.  “So, you live in Delhi or Jaipur” I resumed the conversation.  “Delhi. We are going for a ring ceremony.”  “Okay. A friend or cousin?”  “Technically, it is me who is getting engaged” She added.  I felt a shock. But that did not come out as an expression. The SUV was still at 120 kmph and my eyes too did not fumble.  “Technically?” I had a question.  “Somewhat,” she replied.  “Would you mind if I ask you the matter in detail?” I was looking for hope against hope.  “Well, in short, I have not yet made up my mind if I want to get engaged with a boy who is 2 inches shorter than me. My Dad selected him or me.”  “And is he interested in marrying a taller girl,” I sought a negative response.  “Same as me. He too is skeptical. Obviously, a boy would not like a taller girl. Would you marry me if I am taller than you?” She had a deadly question in one breath.  “I am taller than you,” I made it light.  She cackled and it was the beginning of a long pause.  She started playing with the music player. The next song that played was a slow romantic number. She began to hmmm as the song began with an alaap. I looked at her and she stopped.   I did not say a word but soon the alaap ended and words were being sung. I started singing. She joined immediately. Our understanding of the song and the pronunciation of the words were impeccable. We enjoyed the entire song.  "You like romantic numbers or this was an exception?" I asked.  "Well, I love romantic and soft numbers. Such songs are meant to play with your heart beats. With friends, tunes dominate but alone, the words make you feel. Music when is not deafening and irrational, makes all the sense," she replied and I was tight-lipped.  I too loved the romantic numbers especially from 90s’ Bollywood but I had never thought things in such a detail. Her idea and the explanation were seamless, just like the tone of her skin.  I had a great collection of the 90s and one after the other, my collection made me feel proud.  For most of the songs, we knew the singers, lyrics, composer, actors, and even year of the release.  I was feeling really nice with her. The car was literally flowing on the freeway.  All of sudden, we encountered a slow truck which was in the wrong lane. I tried to overtake but met another surprise as a tractor full of dry hay was on the other side. The poor tractor driver hardly was able to see behind due to excessive and overloaded stocks. He was scolded by the truck driver for blocking the road.  This was a usual scene. Whenever you pass through a village, you find bikers sans helmet and other carefree vehicles unaware of any traffic rules. But this gave us a break. The break that broke the string of rhythm.  Songs were still playing but none of us was singing. Soon, the obstacles got cleared but the lost rhythm did not return. I felt as if this break came to wake us up. We were not friends. We could not be. And this small affection would only lead to pains.  I was not sure what was in her mind at that time. I knew that girls are strong and do not get entangled easily in such scenarios.  "What if you decide not to marry him?"  "I will not go to the venue of engagement, simple."  "Is it?" I was curious.  "Sounds Filmy but I will just give a call to my Dad and will ask him to postpone everything as I am not ready yet. My Dad is a great person who understands things as they are. He will make an excuse and will call it off," she again made it very simple. A situation that gave me goosebumps was a cakewalk for her. And of course, kudos to her Dad.  We entered the periphery of Jaipur. Some houses amid plenty of trees were standing out. "Let me know where to drop you?" I asked a question that meant to know her decision if she had taken till then.  "Hotel Shranjika International, please. It is 10 kilometers before the city starts. You do not need to drive extra to drop me," she said.  "And where is the engagement?" I asked.  My tone was a little rude. I knew. I thought to apologize but I could not.  "It's in the same hotel. If I choose to get engaged, I will go to the hall which is in front of the reception desk. And If I chose not to, I will check into another hotel adjacent to Shranjika International," she said.  She had nailed it. Simply superb.   "Can I use your phone to make a call please?” she asked.  I pointed towards a small dashboard pocket. She found it easily, made a call to herself, and pretended as if she was searching for her phone.  The hotel had arrived. I was requested to stop 200 meters before the main gate. I was sad to let her go but had to. The two left me comfortably. I hoped that at least she would look back at me. I was wrong. She turned and suddenly rushed to me and gave a nice hug. I was tearful, so was she. It was love which had no life further. She controlled herself and returned. I got back to my car and instantly rushed back to the road. It was hard to believe that I was still crying. I fell in love just like that, incredible. Tears were uncontrollable. And I did not even try to stop them.  Memories created a little while ago were now pinching me and each act of her was making me cry.  I wish I could turn back the clock and bring the wheels of time to a stop. The time when she was with me. The time when we were singing was the best of the lot.  Then something made me stop the car abruptly. It was her call. The number that flashed was unknown yet my heart told me that it was her. Maybe she took a decision to not to marry a shorter boy. And that could pave ways for the commencement of my love story.  "Hi, hope you are okay. I have just made up my mind," she said. I wanted to hear more and soon.  "I am getting engaged with this boy," she said something totally incredible and unacceptable. But suddenly I felt the power to handle this.  "I think I love you Shruti. Maybe more than that boy will ever in your life. And now I also respect you for that decision that you took in favor of your family. You could have let them down but you now have made them proud," I ended. The chapter had closed and I was home. 
After a couple of days, I saw a message from Shruti. "Would you mind giving me a lift to Delhi?"  I was surprised as she was not supposed to take a lift from her Ex. "I will leave tomorrow morning sharp at 6," I replied.  "Okay, thanks. I will wait at the fuel pump on the highway from where we took the turn towards the hotel."  I had reached 5:30 at the stop. She arrived at 5:45. She carried a small bag. A gentleman suddenly appeared from nowhere and gave her a goodbye kiss. He also waved hands towards me. I showed thumbs up. We moved on.  "You want to listen to the story?" She opened the conversation.  "I smiled back."  "As I reached the hotel, I was asked to reach room number 214. I made it and found mine and his parents there. He was there as well," she sipped some water.  "My Dad said that he was proud of me that I got ready to marry someone I did not love just to keep the family's reputation. He added that he heard the story from the boy and the two families mutually decided to call this union off," she finished.  “Living with a constant and permanent discomfort will not take us anywhere. People should be compatible or in total love. We belong to none of these categories--the boy said to me,” she again begun to browse 90s’ songs.  I was really happy now. What all happened during these two days was absolutely perfect. There was a period of discomfort but sacrifices pay more than selfishness does. She was a great girl. I had a chance. And of course, I was taller than her.   Prash!  



Photo credit: Artistic-touches via Visualhunt / CC BY-NC