Crossing the Signal

From the maroon sedan, the boy-beggar noticed a hand. It slid out of a power window, half-open, a fifty-rupee note held firmly. He made a run towards it before others could reach it. As he tried to thank the man behind the hand, he realized he could see no face. The signal would leave in another nine seconds. He looked back at the hand, only the top of the fingers visible, over the steering. They had nails unlike the colour of any he had seen in his clan. Fair. And even. The surrounding cars started their engines, an indication he must make way. One last look and he saw the steel-looking band on his right ring finger. Silently he let out a prayer and crossed the road, fifty rupees richer over others.

As the Elantra suavely stood out in the queue of cars with its curves, Snigdha, from her ordinary-looking Punto's driver seat watched an extremely manicured hand slid out a fifty-rupee note for a beggar-boy. She could not decide on which to admire more -- the car or the hand. She decided against her share of the alms when she saw the amount and planned to put it in the i-20 account instead. The signal would leave in nine seconds. Something about the fair hand distracted her completely. Shamelessly she peeked inside the half-open window to barely notice the plump platinum band sitting politely on his right ring finger. Disheartened, she started her car. 

The Park-Circus signal was one of the thickest. And afternoons were always a tricky time. One could never count on whether the roads would be empty or filled. This court case was like living a daily ritual of the scraping off skin from bone. It pained. It did not matter, the amount of alimony, for the Mehras were well-off for two more such alimonies, and yet live lavishly. The cut came from the social stigma attached to a dirty divorce. No. This pain is because I love Radhika, still. Damn. Maybe a poor boy's prayers will help me fight the pain. Parthiv handed out a fifty-rupee note to the beggar-boy. He counsulted his watch. Nine seconds more. He looked at his ring finger thinking of how Radhika had surprised him with it right in the middle of a business convention both of them were attending in South Korea. It is too tight for comfort. The red light flickered. He shut the half-open window and pulled his car into the first gear as the light turned green. If I could only have an inkling that everything would be a part of her grand business plan. A small car with a loud honk was constantly stirring his thoughts disturbingly.

He looked at the rear view mirror and signalled left for a halt. The small car pulled up behind too. A young girl came out of it, in fitted trousers and a even better fitted shirt. Her shoes and watch spoke of an admirable taste. 'Hi, my name is Snigdha. I have never done this before, and it is a little weird now that I am in the middle of it and cannot return...' She looked nervous for the first time. 'I...uh...loved your car.'

Parthiv could not understand the situation. All this to praise the Elantra? 'Thank you, uh, Snigdha, right?' She smiled. 'Is that all?'

'No! I mean yes. No.' She certainly looked unsure. 'I mean please forgive me, but you have to understand, I have never done anything like this before.'

'Like what?' He was curious. In the middle of the road, in the middle of the city, in the middle of the day.

'I, uh, I really liked your hands. I took a chance to see if I would like your face. I do. Would you like to have a cup of coffee with me? Or, tea?' 

Snigdha waited. The deed was done. Chances should be taken. She felt relieved. Regretfree. Parthiv was shocked, spellbound. My hands? 'Sure. You are pretty smart, miss.' Pause. 'Pretty and smart. The tea...where and when?'

'I will call you. Can I have your number?'

Parthiv gave her his card. It said "Parthiv Mehra. Joint Managing Director, Mehra & Bothra Group." His contact details were furnished. 'Snigdha, uh, before we leave, I would like you to know, this really is the first time something like this has happened with me. That too because of my hands. I will wait for your call.'

'Do.' She turned to get inside her car.

As Parthiv shuffled through the Don Bosco buses and cars he failed to comprehend what just happened. All he could think of was how his hands shook when he signed on the agreement to apply Morphine on Papa Bothra. Greed had got the better of him. Radhika never got to know.

Or so he thought. Radhika had to wait for four years to have him handcuffed. In loneliness and memories. 

Meanwhile, as impulsively as she had honked at the Elantra, Snigdha decided against the phone call.