He put the mug down, placed his elbows on the table and looked at Bibi admiringly. Then, clearing his throat, he said, ‘I have been getting a few reports regarding your welfare. I also learnt about this Ismail attack. But it was well after everything was over and the matter was closed by the police. The reports also stated that our relations with Pakistan won’t improve any time soon. On the contrary, if at all, they are becoming worse. And I don’t see the two nations putting their differences aside. It’s therefore becoming more difficult to get an update on your family in Pakistan. I will continue to push, but we have little hope as my sources are drying up.’ Virk paused again as if summoning up the courage to say what he actually wanted to. A moment later, he finally gave it away, ‘Amrit, the real purpose of my coming here is to ask you something. Will you marry me?’ After completing his sentence, he nervously waited for her response.

Bibi was stunned. This was the last thing she had expected to hear from a decorated army officer. She tightened her grip around the porcelain mug in excitement, her hands damp and clammy with sweat. She found it difficult to look into his eyes. She was a legally married woman with two children. And here she was, dining with a stranger, considering her own marriage proposal. Gathering some courage, she replied, ‘How can I discuss a matter that is not in my control? You are aware of my marital status and my children. I don’t quite understand all this.’

Virk responded instantly as if he was prepared for her questions. ‘What happened in Pakistan was a forced compromise. The man who adopted you married you to his brother’s son because that was the only way to protect you. You were a minor then, not in a position to say “no” even if you wanted to. You cannot go to Pakistan and they cannot come to India, not over the next few decades as I see it. And even if they do, or you manage to reach Pakistan, how will you find them? I have used all my resources but have not been able to go beyond Hassan Abdal in northern Pakistan. There’s no trace of them. All we know is, given his position and wealth, he has moved on with his life. Either way, you cannot allow your life to drag on, hoping to get a glimpse of someone whom you cannot be with.’ He fell silent and waited for her to speak.

She weighed her words and spoke softly. Her voice had traces of helplessness. ‘But this is immoral. It’s not acceptable in our society. What will people say? How will our society react?’