It was on a Sunday in July that I looked around my room, for the last time. Without my personal things it looked deserted, eagerly waiting for the next occupant. I sensed mournfulness in the morning air; whether it was a feeling of loss that filled my heart warmly or that I did not want to bear the inconvenience often associated with relocation, I could not tell.

The hostel was deserted as most people had left for their homes. Mudit had set off for Gurgaon the previous day. I had found that Yukti had departed to Meerut, her hometown, without even bidding me good bye. Pranay's brother arrived in the morning to take him home.

On hearing a car's horn in the hostel's parking, I dragged my bag out of the room, closed the door, and slowly walked to the parking. It was Neera, sitting in the driver's seat, waiting for me to bring out the last of my belongings. With great difficulty I shoved my bag, into the trunk, which was already jammed packed with our luggage.

After closing the trunk, I slumped onto the seat beside the driver, and closed the door. Neera looked at me and asked:
"What took you so long? You went to bring just one bag."

"Sorry, I was just looking around the room for anything that I might've left behind."

She slowly pulled the car out of the parking and drove toward the college gate and as the car crossed it, I felt a sudden feeling of dread, knowing that I was not in a protected environment anymore. When you are in a college similar to the one that I attended, you are somehow encapsulated from the world and its problems; whether be it politics, religion, or the effects of economy - you just do not feel the negative effects. It dawned on me that the problems that I faced in college, which seemed gigantic, were minuscule in front of what was about to come. I clearly saw the darkness in my future and the tumult that would be added to it by the fact that Neera was pregnant.

My days as a student were over; I was an adult.

By the time we were about half way to Shimla, our destination, Neera did not say anything. Her eyes were fixated on the road, and we would only speak when it was absolutely essential.

"It was nice of your father to send this car," I uttered, trying to defuse the tension.

"Yeah, it was," she said, glancing at me. "He wanted Rajesh Kaka to drive us to Shimla, but I told him that we could do it ourselves. I thought that would give us some time alone to talk."

"Talk, about what?"

"You know."

We kept silent for a while and as we entered Solan, which is a town located between Chandigarh and Shimla, she turned to me and said, "Prachur, I thought a lot about our situation and I have made up my mind. I want to tell you, but first, I want you to promise me that you will support me no matter what."

"How could I say that I will support you no matter what? What if you were trying to plan a robbery? Wouldn't blindly agreeing to your plans criminalise me?" I asked, chuckling.

"I am serious," she said, with a grim face.

"OK, dear. I will support you, no matter what."

"I want to keep the baby," she said, and then looking at me, when I said nothing, continued, "I know it sounds crazy, but I have been thinking so much about it. I know having a child is not something I should be doing at this age, but, for the life of me, I can't entertain the possibility of an abortion. We could do anything, I could leave preparation for IAS and get a job - anything - but, please, don't make me kill our baby. It's a child of love." Although she tried her best to suppress her emotions, her eyes were filled with tears by the end.

"Of course, dear," I said, melting on account of her passionate appeal, "I would never make you do anything that you don't want to. We can have the baby, we can do anything you want. And, forget this silly business of giving your goals, if you really want to do this, I would take a job. I'll figure something out soon, OK? Don't you worry."

These words had come out of my heart; they were not empty, I meant them, even though, secretly I was wishing that Neera would decide to abort the baby.

She stopped the car on the side of the road and, while we held each other, she wept profusely. On breaking the embrace, she said, "I am happy. Are you happy?"

"Yes, Love," I replied promptly, so she could not sense my indecisiveness. "I am."

"I was so scared about how you would react," she said, while I wiped tears off her face. "Last night, I could not get any sleep because of this."

"Is that why you broke this news to me in a moving car, so I won't jump out? Good call because I actually considered that option." She gently pushed me away, and I continued, "Darling, I would always support you, you know that."

Our lips met and I felt ecstatic. Her fragrance enchanted me into a trance; what would I not give to smell this every waking moment of my life! After a few minutes of adoringly gazing at each other, we restarted our journey.

"So, are we going to tell our parents?" I asked her.

"Yeah, obviously, my Love," she replied.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"We could hide it. We could tell them you are just getting fatter and act really surprised when the baby is born."

She smiled. "We have to tell them soon, I guess. The more we hide, the angrier they're going to be when they find out."

"True, true. But, you know that they're going to be very upset whenever we tell them, right? They care about society and stuff too much. They'd think of what our neighbours would say before they even consider our happiness. This is not a decision that concerns our career; it is about our future - family life, the most important part according to them. And apart from that, there is still a million to one chance that my parents might accept this, but yours, I am sure they will murder me."

"Yeah, I am worried about that too," she said, "but we will figure it out, right?"

I nodded and sighed. Fate had decided my future for me - all I could do was accept it.

###

The majestic Himalayas laden with ample greenery greet any traveller who enters Himachal Pradesh. The air is cool and the environment serene. Apart from the flora possessed by this part of the nation, the kindness in the people residing in these hills was something I never found in other parts of India that I had visited. Clean streets run through the towns, which is a spectacle to most Indians.

"Shimla, 12 KM," said a board in green. The sun was shining mildly because the afternoon was about to retire and hand over charge to the evening. We had reached Shoghi. This town marked the boundary of Shimla for me, and as we passed through it, I finally felt that I was close to home.

During the rest of the trip, I occasionally glinted at Neera, lovingly. She was brilliant, funny, and beautiful. Her placid mind had often made me to suggest that she should not waste her time by joining the mindless drones in our bureaucracy - research or academia was the field that had been starving for an intelligent person like her; but her parents had absolutely no respect for any profession practised by human beings except medicine, bureaucracy, and the armed forces.

Although, she was emotional and timid, occasionally, but the clarity with which she tackled her problems was unparalleled and I had always admired her determination. At the moment, she was bent on telling our parents that she was pregnant and was going to have our child no matter what people would say; her resolve was unrelenting, so I could not talk to her about my apprehensions. Leastways, my parents were expecting Neera and me to move forward in our relationship, but her parents were oblivious even of the fact that Neera had talked to my mother about our engagement last night; how could they endure such a turn of our fate?

I turned to Neera and enquired, "When are you planning to tell your parents?"

"I don't know," she replied, shrugging. "Soon, probably."

"You said 'soon' earlier as well. I meant, how soon? Like, today?"

"No, Prachur," she said. "I have not really planned everything, yet. I will tell them when I feel the time is opportune; maybe in a day or two.

"Please, inform me before you do. So that I have time to prepare myself for a considerable mental ordeal."

"Yeah, dear, of course," she said, smiling. "And why are you worried about it? Are you not used to my parents thinking that you are the worst person in the world?" she joked.

"Yes, I am, but in things like not attending classes, loitering around the city all the time, or smoking. This, this is huge!"

"I guess, so," she said, nodding in approval. "Everything will be OK, Darling. We are together, aren't we? As long as we love each other, we can solve these problems."

"I need to write a letter saying that if I go missing under suspicious circumstances, your father will be responsible," I said, half-jokingly. "Will you continue to love me after he kills me, or will you find someone else?"

"I will find someone else, obviously," she said, with a straight face. "I am too young to live my life by myself." When I shook my head, she laughed.

"Finding my troubles amusing, are you?"

How could she be as calm as she was? If my family was so supportive, and my girlfriend - my future companion - was perfect, then why was my mind so uneasy? My anxiety increased as our destination drew closer.

The next few months are going to be harsh, I thought.