I have just driven out of the lane to her friend's house and stand at the entry to the main road. I switch off the scooter and start crying. I think I have lost it.

When I came here, there was slight hope of finding her. Something inside me said that she is safe and sound. She would be happy to see me. I had even visualized a scene in my head. She would come out as I called out her name. On seeing me, she would run to me and tightly hug me. I would give her a big tight hug in return and keep on hugging her for a long while. I would then kiss her forehead multiple times before succumbing to the emotional outburst inside me. She too would have become emotional. The worried face I saw when she was coming out of the house would have gone. A smile would have replaced it. We had each other and that is all that mattered.

She might not show it but she is a very emotional person. I know this. My worksites are pretty remote. There is no proper network available. Whenever we have a video call, we become very emotional about seeing each other on the screen. The emotions slowly play out over the duration of the call.

I have been forced to do longer stints at my workplace because of the pandemic. There is a shortage of people following the lockdown and restrictions. Anyone could catch the virus. If it happens in our worksite then we have to take necessary precautions to contain it and see that it doesn't spread. This is not easy when you have a large workforce using common washrooms and dining halls. Work has become tough that way. Uncertainty looms over everyone. Long-term planning has gone for a toss. One can plan maybe up to the next hitch. Nothing more than that. Even the protocols to be followed keep changing according to the situation in the country. The advent of the third wave has brought back the long stints. I was supposed to go to work for a much shorter duration this time. The period of my work had come down to pre-pandemic times. I was really happy about this. She was happy too. This meant we wouldn’t be separated for longer stretches. But the third wave played spoilsport.

One year down the line, we feel we have just started our lives. We still are learning a lot about each other, getting deeper every day. I like to compare the life of a person to the ocean. It is deep. You think you know a person when in fact you have just scratched the surface. A whole lot lies deep within. It is not easy to go deep. For that, the ocean has to let you go in at his will. You can never force your way in. That is not how the ocean works. The deeper you go the more you understand the myriad nature of the ocean. Every depth has something new to show you. I feel one lifetime is not enough to reach the bottom of this ocean.

It applies to the self. We think we know ourselves completely. The truth is we are learning about ourselves as the days pass by. If you have ever experienced the feeling of being shocked or in disbelief as to your actions or behavior then you would understand what I am trying to say. There are a lot of layers that make us, layers stitched together in our minds consciously and subconsciously. It has been said that we hardly know how our subconscious works. Doesn't it quite literally translate to the fact that we hardly how a part of our brain functions, thereby telling you that we are in the dark when it comes to knowing ourselves?

Since I believe in this I have told her that the journey we will take together will be a journey of discovery as an individual and as a whole. We would be knowing each other on a deeper level as the days pass by. If you don’t a reference then each day is a new day, a new beginning. This is the reason I feel we have just started out with our lives. In this process, we evolve and become better than we were.

Months before the day we took our vows, one of my close friends asked me if I was ready for marriage. I said I was. She asked me how did I know this. I said I didn’t. I couldn’t give her a concrete statement as to why I felt like I was ready. I just felt it from within. That's how one goes about these things. For most of our lives, we are not ready for the things in store for us. They come at us at full speed without warnings. We have to adapt to it quickly. We have been doing this from the day we were born. Along the way, we become good at it. We have learned to adapt to what is thrown at us and evolve in the process. As I neared thirty I had to go through a lot of experiences to become the person I am. In the process, I adapted and evolved. I was ready to take the next step. I didn't know what was in store for me but I knew I was ready for it. That is all I had when I met her and agreed to be together. People call it many things. When we met and had our first conversation I got the feeling of having found someone with whom I can spend the rest of my life. It did take me a couple of weeks to get that feeling validated. Once it did, I didn’t look back. I took the leap of faith. It was the best decision I have ever taken.

I try to stop my crying. The feeling of having lost her engulfs me. I try to suppress my emotions and compose myself. But I can’t. I wish there was someone to see this. I wish they would approach me, ask me why I was crying, and calm me. I wish she was here. I now wish she didn’t have to take duty yesterday night.

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A couple of dogs come out of the opposite lane to the road. One of them barks at me for a while and leaves. The crows respond to this with loud cawing. A group of them fly away. Nothing seems to be off with them. It is a normal day for them. My mind diverts with this. I think about the pets people have. How would they react if their masters vanished all of a sudden? Who will feed them now? Would they find a way to overcome their starvation? What about all those dogs that are locked away in cages or chained away? Who will feed them? My wife has two dogs at her home. Their images come to me. They are chained. One of them sometimes gets out of his collar and runs away for a while. Maybe he might stage an escape. My cousin has a huge German shepherd. He is caged. They let him out in the evening for a walk. He can easily overpower you. He can't get out of the cage by himself.

The images of my grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and some of my close relatives come to my mind. I wonder if they are safe at home. My grandfather is ill. I hope he is not alone.

I park the scooter near the pavement and get out. I stand for a while. I am trying to compose myself. I feel hungry. I can hear my stomach gurgling. I need to eat something soon.

I think of the best thing to do. I don’t know any other place here in the city where she would have gone. I know where one of her colleagues lives. I don’t think she would have gone there. I feel my hunger rising. I think I should get back home. What if she is back there waiting for me? This possibility brought in enough hope to compose me and pull myself out of the dark pit I was falling into. I got onto the scooter and left the place.

I have to take a one-way to join the road I had come in. As I reach the junction, I find a police jeep crashed into the electric pole on the pavement. Just adjacent to it is the Pettah police station. I think the jeep belonged to the station. Finding it in a crashed state here is interesting. I decide to look inside the jeep. I open the driver's door and jump in. A police cap was lying on top of the dashboard. The radio transmitter was on. I crank up the volume and listen. When I hear nothing I get out of the jeep, dash to the scooter, take out the walkie-talkie from the bag and come back. I turn it on and speak into it. I hear my voice come out of the transmitter. I get into the jeep once again and look around. There isn’t anything else inside it. There is no way of telling how many people were there in the jeep when it crashed.

I get out of the jeep and walk to the police station. The empty parking spot at the entrance tells me the jeep belonged there. I walk into the station. The front desk is empty. A cup of stale tea and a snack share the space with the register. The lights are on. Fans are running at full speed. The scenario inside is similar to the one I encountered at the medical college police station. There are a couple of mobile phones lying here and there on the various desks. I check them for network. No network. I walk into the room marked out for the SI. It is empty. No one is here. It is entirely empty. I get out without wasting much time. As I walk through the road I feel dehydrated. I open the door of the police jeep and look for a bottle of water. I find one on the driver's door. I finish it in one go.

I leave the premises for my home. The short one-way joined the main road at Kannamoola bridge. There was nothing new from what I had seen while driving the opposite way. Still, I was on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. I revved my throttle to the max and sped away. Within minutes I am at the medical college junction. The ride was eventless in every sense.

I think I pushed the scooter to its limits. I don’t do that normally. I am a very conservative driver. I always think of driving a vehicle for more mileage. You can say I have a small OCD about it, an OCD for trying to squeeze out the best mileage from any vehicle.

When we were staying in Kottayam, if I had to go to my hometown for some quick work, the forty kilometers would be traveled in the most efficient way. To avoid traffic I would start early, at six. I would take the shortest route. The road was narrow and goes through a lot of small lanes. But it would be devoid of traffic in that wee hour of the day. I would take wider curves and maintain my speed as much as I can. I would hardly exceed 55 kmph in it. On those rides, all I needed was one liter of petrol. Forty kilometers in a liter for a nearly twelve-year-old scooter (it was made in 2006, one of the first models of Activa) is pretty impressive. I only get thirty in this. This is her scooter. She was using it back home. She brought it here after she joined her course. She has a certain attachment to the seat cover. It has come off and does not serve its purpose.

Once when I had given the scooter for servicing, she had accompanied me to get it back. As I got it out, she exclaimed about the absence of the seat cover. The scooter was looking really slick after the wash. I was happy with or without the cover. She insisted I get it back. I went and asked them if they had kept aside the seat cover. They checked and said they didn’t have it. I felt bad. The supervisor then told me to check under the seat. I did that. It was tucked inside. She felt happy to have it back and immediately draped it on the seat. It comes off from time to time. Sometimes I get annoyed by it. Since it is something she doesn't want to discard, I don’t mind having it. I am good if she is good.