“Hmm?” She turned around.
“Did you send the photo to Iram and all?”
“No, I was thinking tonight…” she froze. “My mobile is on the plane!” She began to scramble for it when he pulled it out of his pocket.
She shut her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief as well as containing the flutter in her heart.
“How is it,” he walked closer to her, “that you only forget your mobile when you are with me?”
“It’s not particular to you.” She craned her neck up to his tipped chin. “I sometimes forget it when I am excited or nervous.”
His chin dipped, their faces suddenly too close for a public parking lot where he was as well known as the next celebrity. “Which one is it today?”
She gaped at him, then stepped back — “That depends on where we are going. You had surprises for me, right?” She fingered her Mangalsutra.
“One is here.” He nudged his chin to the car in the lot in front of them. She looked at it. A beast of a car. Hunter green body. Nice colour. Amaal stepped back and read the name. Thar. Her lip jutted out — “What’s the surprise? Is this your car?”
“You liked this car.”
“I did?” She turned to look at him. And his eyes were bugged.
“Yes,” he said. “Years ago, you mentioned you liked this car. We were driving back and you said something along the lines of ‘What a car!’ for a green Thar exactly like this. Not exactly, because they have upgraded the models over the years. You don’t remember?”
“I mean… I might have said it because really cool colour.” She sputtered, smiling indulgently at his deer-in-the-headlights expression. “Oh god, you bought this car for me?”
“Hmm,” he grunted, grumped, and then burst into a chuckle at himself. “I should have thought better. You call cars by the names of their colours.”
“I love it.” She tipped sideways on him. “It has that ‘Tu janta nahi mera baap kaun hai’[210]vibes. Suits me.”
“It better.” He popped her up. “Because I’ve bought it and kept it hidden. I never used it much, thinking about telling you by taking you for a drive. But you never were in Shimla long enough for an opportunity like that. It’s an old car now, but ours.”
“And where is it taking us?” She twined her arm through his.
“Patience,” he caught her chin in his palm. “Patience.”
————————————————————
“Udhampur.” She read the milestone on the way down the highway. “We are going to Udhampur?”
“Hmm.”
Amaal gaped at him. He looked happy, excited, slightly nervous. But not nostalgic or sad. They were going to his family home. She was sure now. Her surety was rewarded when he turned out of the town and stopped outside a set of wood and iron gates. Samar left the car idling and stepped out, opening the gates. He drove the car in and Amaal got her first look at the house where he had been born. It was beautiful. Small, cottage-like, with a children’s painting-like roof. Red tiles thatched it and the body gleamed white. There were windows, lots of them. And what appeared to be an arched doorway.
Her door was pulled open and she glanced at him.
“One of your many homes.” He opened his hand to her. She took it, and stepped out with his hand on her waist. It was a little bit of a jump to the ground but he steadied her.
“This house looks brand new.”
“I have been renovating it for the last six months.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Don’t worry, I was stealing your plans for the Srinagar house and feeding them to the Interior Designer here.”
“Thank you.” She grinned, rounding the car and stepping up into the garden space where the grass was green, trimmed, and bushes freshly planted.
“Somebody has planted them this morning.” She accused.
