Noor was walking back from the library, on a long road winding to her house. Her destination was a mere five minutes away , a fact she was grateful for because her satchel was cutting into her bare shoulder. The park on her right was abandoned, probably because of the late hour. She knew her parents would be worried-the amount of anxiety an Indian parent feels could power a whole city- but she could not help it that she had found the latest Stephen King thriller at the last.
The summer evening had turned darker. She was too preoccupied thinking about the books she just got issued to pay attention to the stone on the road. Falling down with a thud, her behind protested to the sudden jolt and in that vulnerable position two Oxfords came into view. The owner was a well-dressed man ,although the three-piece was a bit too much for this weather, with clear grey eyes. She took his angular hand, hesitatingly, and he picked her up unto her feet, only for a bag to be put on her head from behind, by someone- no a man- whose two plump hands muffling her nascent scream and bound her hands using plastic hand-cuffs. She was pushed back into an open car, onto suede seats, her legs stinging from being banged. And then the door shut before she could scramble out.
Randhir exited the restaurant, along with a girl with huge, vacuous eyes, lined with that absurd cosmetic girls apply- kohl, for the 'messy look.'
Like that's attractive.
He sighed, but his solemn mood was not reflected in his companion; she seemed to be absolutely happy, revelling into his company.
He was tired of this bloody charade- dinner with girls from 'good families' who cared more about his Merceedes than about the driver, more about the wallet-size than the owner. No mistakes, the attention was fun. And if he did not have a conscience, they would be exploring the Merceedes back-seat. But he was too old-fashioned for his own good and it was too late for change.
He pulled down his blue shirt's cuff to look at his watch, and was dismayed at the time- the dinner hadn't even lasted an hour. It was time to go back home, and maybe he could catch Seerat before she fell asleep, fill the void in an empty house which a parent should be filling.
Saying good-bye to his date- whose expectant eyes drooped down comically when didn't ask for her number- he turned away. He had ten minutes to kill since his driver came- he hadn't brought his car- and so he decided to walk, thinking up innovative ideas to reject the next girl his buddies from boarding-school fixed him up with.
He was a lone car on the road and thought it strange for the road in front of such an fancy establishment to be without swarms of traffic. The car was getting closer, and it had black screens. For a second there he was scared but then he swished the though away. Probably a MLA's kid acting all gangster.
Randhir started walking the other way, and suddenly felt a little dizzy. The world swam in the red...