She told him what had happened, and was strangely comforted when he laughed off the incident with her. His words of encouragement, persuading her to not give up and continue looking for such opportunities till she met the right people who shared her principles, alleviated some of her fears. She agreed, saying she finally knew what it felt like to be in a recording booth and hear one’s own voice as a listner. She found Abhimanyu to be in strangely good spirits. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said, and started for the exit. They knew the drill by then – Abhimanyu would walk out of the door first, turn around the restaurant and wait for Meera at a deserted alley nearby. Meera would follow and meet him there a few moments later. The two would then say their goodbyes in private and go their separate ways. But that day, Meera found him standing next to his car with the door held ajar. ‘Get in.’ It was an order and a request wrapped into one.

Meera watched the city whizz by as she sat in the passenger seat, not uttering a word till they reached Alibaug. She didn’t have much to say, but smiled as they sat in a beachside shack, sipping coconut water with their gazes locked and hearts pounding as the setting sun left a salmon and gold sky for them to marvel at. A coy, captivating smile Abhimanyu just couldn’t get enough of.

‘Say something,’ Meera pleaded.

‘There’s nothing left to say,’ he said with his eyes roving over every inch of her face, taking it all in.

‘Abhimanyu.’

He looked on without answering.

‘Abhi…’

She saw his face turn forlorn a tad bit.

‘Find a way to come to Ranakpour alone for a few days,’ he said quietly, reaching out to hold her hand across the table.

The unrest following Gandhi’s assassination had long subsided, but Abhimanyu had realized that keeping their relationship a secret was no longer an option. The guilt and the strain of not being able to see her in the flesh that fateful morning had stayed with him. Facing up to his family about his love for Meera was far better than carrying on like thieves, he had concluded. The world had changed, and he must convince his father to change with it.

‘I want you to meet my mother. Wait, wait, listen to me, hear me out,’ he said, just as Meera began to protest. ‘It’s been on my mind since January, and I’ve arranged for everything. There will be a match at the palace grounds – the first of the quadrangular series I’ve been working on. Gaekwad’s Baroda team has accepted the invitation. I want to introduce you to my mother and ask for her help to convince Daata about us.’

‘Why are you doing this, Abhimanyu?’ she asked, confused.

‘We’ve been together three months, and yet it feels like an eternity. I can’t keep living like this, Meera. I want to be with you, always’