Roshni disappears for an entire month. She stops attending art school, doesn’t answer the phone. Anmol knows the principal’s letter has done the job. It’s a conspiracy formed by like-minded people—Varma, the principal, Roshni’s father—and there is very little he or she can do about it. Then, one hot April afternoon, Anmol is woken from his siesta by the sound of pebbles on the windowpane. Roshni’s downstairs in her oversized goggles.

She tells him what he has suspected all along. Her father has turned jailer. She is not allowed out; she cannot make or receive phone calls. Her mother feels he should have done this a long time ago. She is allowed out this month because it is exam time—she has to submit projects, use the college library and studios. Anmol notices that her face has hardened ever so slightly, and that she does not cry anymore.

Roshni comes almost every other day. They avoid the chapel like the plague.

Anmol has two close friends, Nishad and Paritosh. They help him sneak Roshni into the boys’ hostel. The procedure is complicated, involves several delicate manoeuvres, and enormous reserves of patience. Roshni arrives at the appointed hour, stands under Anmol’s window, calls out to him. Anmol goes down and joins her. They sit on the steps, chatting innocuously. Nishad arrives after five minutes, as planned. He does not sit, but frames himself in the doorway. At times he casually moves back a few steps to the bottom of the staircase, from where he has a clear view of Anmol’s room. Paritosh arrives a minute or two later. He enters from the back of the block, takes position outside Anmol’s room. He waits for the corridor to empty of people, gives the all-clear sign to Nishad who gives the all-clear sign to Anmol. Anmol scans the outside world one last time for inquisitive eyes and moral custodians, then gives the green signal to Roshni. She swivels around on her haunches, crawls into the hostel on all fours, slips and stumbles up the steps, floats through the wide open doors of J-7 like a disoriented bee.

They finally have a place they can call their own. He can finally play her his favourite compilation tapes. He rewinds Blind Melon’s No rain and plays it again and again. He spins Gin Blossom’s Hey jealousy but at very low volume. He loves her glass bangles but she takes them off before entering the hostel. When the two climax, they make sure they come very, very silently.

Every once in a while they have a visitor. Each time there is a knock on the door, they panic. Often it is Richard Lal, Anmol’s neighbour, dropping in for a post-lunch spliff. Or a lonely bachelor teacher who wants Anmol to accompany him to an embassy screening of a new French film.