The weather was moderate. The wind had moisture. He crossed the road. He bought a Vicks candy from a nearby shop and put it in his mouth so that his breath would smell fresh while he talked. He took out a folded paper from his pocket on which he had written a few of his favourite couplets. He read them while walking. The dargah was now before his eyes. He folded the paper and put it back inside his pocket. He decided to buy a diary on which he would note down his favourite poems and couplets. He looked at the sea and noticed that the water level had receded.

He went inside the dargah and looked for Hina where he had first seen her, but she wasn’t there. Then he searched for her in other parts of the dargah but in vain. He was disappointed. He sat where Hina had got wet in the rain. He went to the spot from where he had seen Hina getting drenched but there were so many people between him and the grave that he was not able to see the grid around the mazar. He sat there for a few minutes. His psyche and spirit lightened up and he saw himself sitting inside the sanctum sanctorum. He tried looking for Hina from where he was sitting but he could not see her. In fact, he saw himself. He was the one seeing, and he was the one being seen. He then imagined himself in a boat just where he imagined he was sitting in the dargah. He was seeing all of this with eyes closed. Seven or eight minutes had passed when he opened them. Hina stood before him.

For once he thought that it was in his imagination that he had opened his eyes and Hina was also a part of that imagination. To confirm that it indeed was real, he closed his eyes again and opened them. Hina looked taller from the ground on which he was sitting. Her neck was bent towards him, and she was smiling. Apparently, she had already wished him, but he did not hear her because of the noise around and because he was so engrossed. He got up smiling. The dargah was inundated with pilgrims and it was impossible to have a conversation there. Hina proposed, ‘Let’s go out.’