The next morning at breakfast, when Naina excitedly shared her idea with the two elder woman, Vishakha muttered uncertainly "Gift mein Purse? Ajeeb nahi lagega?? Main toh soch rahi thi steel ka roti wala dibba thik rahega..."

"Mumma! Sabke ghar mein already roti ke char-panch dibbe honge... kitni rotiya khata hain koi?" Naina was exasperated.

Dipping her buttered bread in the tea, Nirmala responded "Sirf rotiya nahi... ladoo, burfi, gajar halwa... bhot kuch rakh sakte hain unn mein. Kyu Vishakha?" Her daughter-in-law dutifully nodded "Ji Maaji."

Noting Naina's crestfallen expression, Vivek pointed out to his mother as he stood up "Maa, kal hi toh aap keh rahi thi isse naraz karke ghar ke koi function karna acha nahi lagta. Toh aap bhi isska ji rakh lijiye."

Conceding immediately, Nirmala quizzed Naina "Acha bata... kitne ko padenge tere yeh purse?"

"Exactly toh material aur uska decorative button final karne ke baad hi pata chalega... par agar 200-250 per meter ka kapda liya... aur wholesaler se 4-5 rupees ka button lagaya toh-"

Nirmala interrupted "Itne mehenge button?! Aare Kusum toh mujhe aath aane mein dus ka packet lake deti thi."

Naina tsked "Dadi... isme shirt wale button thode hi legenge! Main soch rahi hu sunder sa mor pankh ka design dhundungi. Peacock blue silk pe ekdum jachega."

Eyes now gleaming with anticipation, Vishakha uttered "Idea toh such much ekdum nirala hain! Par ek purse kitne ka banega?"

After carrying out some metal mathematics, Naina muttered "Mujhe lagta hain about 35-40 tak max hoga..."

"Aare wah yeh toh steel ke dibbe se bhi kum mein ho jayega! Phir toh meri kitty party wali ladies ke liye bhi yahi de sakti hu!" Vishakha was now completely sold on the idea.

While the idea was being further discussed and refined, Sameer sauntered down the stairs.

Vishakha spoke "Late ho gaya tujhe? Nashta khaoge ya sath pack kardu? Aloo parathe banaye hain tere liye." Sounding a little frazzled, he responded "Pata nahi kaise aakh phir se lag gayi... abhi toh banana hi kahunga par lunch ke liye pack kar do please."

As Vishakha started getting to her feet, Nirmala instructed "Tu baith aur apna nashta khatam kar. Naina, ja beta... parathon ke sath dahi aur achar bhi dena."

When grabbing a banana from the fruit basket, Sameer followed Naina to the kitchen "Sunno, achar mat dena. Last time tel leak hua tha aur-", she irrupted "Yaad hain mujhe, tumhare file mein daag lag gaya tha! Tumhari favourite lasaan ki chutney deti hu, thik hai?"

Nodding, he started gobbling the banana. As he watched her pick the blue tiffin out of the three from a shelf, Sameer stilled for a moment noting that though there was no specific tiffin allocated to him she had instinctively chosen his favorite color. And then wondered at his own surprise, for she clearly knew him like the back of her own hand.

His head reminded him - Well, almost.

His heartbeat first stumbled - Pata nahi aage kya hoga... and then unwittingly started humming the song on the inside - Keh tumhe ya chup raho dil mein mere aaj kya hain...

His head immediately hit the brake - Pura pagal ho gaya hai kya?! This is hardly the time for some bollywood tadka!

For a bit, he was lost in his own world while she prattled on about something, but then noting she was about to add a fourth paratha to the box, he objected "Aare, teen bus ho gaye!" but she continued, "Char le jao... mujhe jhoot nahi bolna jab Dadi mujhe baar-baar poochengi - char parathe diye hain na usse??"

Smiling a little at her imitation of his grandmother, he urged "Please jaldi de do... warna Mrs Shastri sab ke samne meri class le legi! She is extremely particular about punctuality."

Seeing him rush to the bike, Nirmala scowled "Vishakha, pata nahi tune iska naam Sameer kyu rakha? Jab dekho udne ko tayar rehta hain! Naina, usse bol bike aaram se chalaye." Considering these were everyday dialogues from the old lady, the younger women just silently nodded along.

Just as predicted by Naina, Nirmala asked "Laado, char paratha diye hai na usse? Warna pura din khali pet ghoomta rahega." Smiling slightly, Naina responded "Ha Dadi, diye hai."

* * *

After working on her actual assignment for about an hour, dressed in a beige khadi shalwar kurta paired with a colorful patchwork sleeveless jacket, Naina set out for college.

As usual, post numerous instructions from Nirmala about the type of rickshaws and rickshaw-walas to avoid, she headed to the rickshaw stand at the end of their lane and hopped into the first one available.

Over the next fifteen minutes, her eyes skimmed over the familiar sights while she dwelt on the visit that she was planning for later in the day to the Dhalgarwad Market. The bustling wholesale market was a frequent and favorite haunt of hers. Crammed with shops offering various raw materials like canvas, faux leather, polyester, sewing supplies and accessories that she needed for her various projects, a visit there provoked the feelings of landing in wonderland for Naina. Plus the lane to one side was filled with tailors and other tradesmen who she often turned to for assistance to turn her designs into products.

Whilst the rickshaw was waiting at a red light, her gaze landed on two girls who were excitedly chattering about something atop a Kinetic scooter. The moment the light turned green the rider accelerated and sped off weaving between the other four wheelers.

Naina felt some fleeting longing for the freedom the driver must be experiencing, but then looked away reminding herself why it was something she could never experience. A promise that was made over a decade ago - by a terrified eight-year-old girl to a hysterical sixty-year-old woman.

* * *

Her earliest memories were of everyone in the house being very overprotective of her, especially her Parvati Dadi.

After her son and daughter-in-law's untimely death in a bus accident, it had become Parvati's mission to keep their daughter safe. Outside of school, Parvati hardly ever allowed Naina out of her eyesight. Instead of sending Naina to play outside, Parvati insisted on the neighborhood kids coming to play in their yard. Whenever the kids played outside Nirmala Niwas's gate, Naina would stand on the inside and stare longingly. Rohan and Sameer, who were strictly forbidden from taking her out on the road by themselves, would murmur their apologies and promises to return to her soon and then join the games.

Sometimes when the kids seemed to be having too much fun, some tears would slip down Naina's cheeks. Which would then result in the brothers taking turns to race back home to keep her company.

She was about eight when during one Christmas break, the neighborhood kids got caught in the craze of renting small bicycles and riding them up and down the lane. Naina was allowed to get on the bike, but only within the confines of their yard. By that time Rohan usually hung out with his friends from school and hence the responsibility of both entertaining and protecting Naina fell on Sameer.

Most of the time, he was happy to shoulder it, but occasionally the child in him begrudged it. Especially when it meant that he would have to watch his friends race down the lane in the afternoon when the adults were enjoying a siesta.

Hence, one afternoon assured that Parvati Dadi who had been ill was napping, he allowed Naina to accompany him. The adventure started with her taking sneaky, soft steps outside the gate clutching Sameer's hand, all the while glancing back with wide, glee filled eyes. After spending some time helping her practice her riding skills, Sameer left her with some of the younger kids and joined the older ones in a race with explicit instructions to call him when it was her turn on the bike.

Naina thoroughly relished the thrill of running wild with the other kids, peaking into her friends' never-seen-before homes through the semi closed windows, and tasting little treats of half broken chikkis and sukhdis that the kids had sneaked in their pockets. Every now and then, when it was her turn, she would yell for Sameer and then hop on the bicycle with him holding the rear.

The lazy hours of the afternoon flew by and the traffic trickling through the lane grew. At some point Sameer and his friends had started playing cricket in someone's yard. So, when it was her turn again, instead of waiting for Sameer to finish his batting, feeling confident Naina had hopped on the cycle by herself and started down the lane when a truck turned into the lane. The unexpected sight of the large vehicle startled the novice rider and instead of applying the brake she severed into a scooter parked to one side. The resulting fall led to scarped knees, a muddy torn yellow frock, and a weeping little girl.

Sameer, terrified that he was responsible for this turn of events, helped her hobble home. His terror proved apt when Parvati started hollering, "Yeh kya ho gaya meri laado ko?!" When shivering slightly, Sameer explained what they had been up to, the old woman screamed "Raste pe kaise challi gayi yeh?! Hey Bhagwan... agar yeh uss truck ke neeche aa jati toh uppar jaake main kya muh dikhati Rakesh ko?" Turning to the already scared boy, she continued blasting Sameer "Jab mana kiya hai toh isse gate ke bahar kyu le gaya? Aur le hi gaya tha, toh hath chod kar laado ko kissi aur ke barose kaise chod diya?! Teri zimmedari hai na yeh?"

Guilt spilled from Sameer's eyes, as Parvati continued ranting. Even after Vishakha cleaned Naina's wounds, applied the antiseptic, and explained to Parvati that the scrapes were just superficial, Parvati remained anxious "Nirmala... tumhare bharose kaise choddu isse?! Mere hotay yeh haal hain... mere baad kya hoga??"

Dragging Naina to the mandir in the home, she demanded "Vachan de mujhe phir kabhi uss muyi cycle pe chadhegi nahi!" As the frightened girl, believing she had committed some huge transgression, nodded "Sorry Dadi... promise phir se nahi jaayungi..", Parvati continued "Iss buddhi hadiyon mein ab aur koi ghum uthane ki takat nahi rahi... Bhagwan kare, tujhe kuch hone se pehele mujhe aapne paas bula le!" Feeling even more scared, Naina sobbed "Nahi Dadi... main aapki har baat manungi... kabhi nahi jayungi road pe bina kissi ka hath pakde... na cycle chalayungi... aur na gate ke bahar khelungii. Promise Dadi. Par aap bhi mujhe chod ke nahi ja sakti!"

Watching his special friend so distressed, the eleven-year-old stood to one side feeling the like a ton of regret had been placed on his heart.

Everyone else was far too caught up in trying to calm Parvati and Naina to focus on him, till Kusum nudged him out of the room. Casting back anxious glances, he muttered "Nainu bohut ro nahi hain..." Handing him a glass of water, she assured him "Thodi der mein shant ho jayegi. Abhi dari hai na..." Looking miserable he said "Meri wajah se usse lagi. Bahot bura hu na main Kusum Dadi?" Gently stroking his head, Kusum smiled "Nahi beta... sab bache girte hai... aur phir khade hoke khelne lagte hai. Aur itna toh tu humesha dhyaan rakhta hai na usska. School mein... aangan mein khelte ho tab..."

But he wasn't ready to let himself off the hook, "Par aaj toh nahi rakha na!" feeling wretched, he continued "Parvati Dadi ab kabhi usse mere sath kahi jaane nahi dengi... mujhe Sohan ki baat sunni hi nahi chahiye thi! Ab Nainu bhi mujhse naraz ho jayegi kya? Agar ussne-"

"Aare aaisa kuch nahi hoga! Abhi thodi der mein daudti aayegi tere paas. Par ha... aage se thoda dhyan rakhna. Ghar mein bina bataye bahar mat chale jaana, thik hai?" Kusum first tried to alleviate his fears, and then added with a smile "Tab tak hum uska man pasand halwa banate hai! Halwa khate hi dekhna kaise meetha meetha muskurane lagti hai teri... woh kya kehete ho... ha teri especial dost!"

Eyes growing big with hope, Sameer exclaimed "Dadu kehte hai ke hum dono chahe jitna bhi ladh le... ek dusre se katti nahi kar sakte! Toh Nainu ko bhi mujhse batti karni hi padegi, right?"

Kusum smiled "Bilkul... chal ab halwa banate hai..."

Over the next twenty minutes or so, Kusum assigned him some simple tasks like measuring the ingredients or chopping the nuts for the garnish.

Finally, he peeped into the living room where Naina was sitting in a corner fidgitng with her favorite doll while his mother and grandmother were doing their best to distract Parvati dadi with some small talk.

First, he served Parvati with a bowl of halwa "Sorry Dadi, pukka phir meri wajah se Nainu ko kabhi lagegi nahi..." and then presented Naina with a small plate of halwa decorated with raisins to form a smile "Sorry Nainu... main tumhe chod ke Sohan ke sath khelne chala gaya..." Looking guilty, she responded "Tumne toh bola tha ke raste pe tumhe bina bataye na jaayu... phir bhi main chali gayi. Sorry!"

Patting Sameer's head, Kusum smiled "Naina... ab jaldi se halwa khao! Sameer ne khaas banaya hai tumhare liye!"

"Tumne banaya meri liye? Succhi?!" eyes twinkling, she excitedly enquired. When he nodded, blushing a little, she ate a big spoonful and exclaimed "Best halwa hai! Tum bhi try karo!" She fed him a spoon and then continued her interrogation "Tumhe aata hai halwa banana? Kaise banaya tume??"

As she ate, he recited the newly learnt halwa recipe in great detail.

* * *

Despite Naina's promise to be good and repeated requests to her grandmother to never leave her, Parvati passed away some six months later.

It took Naina many years to understand that her grandmother had already been quite ill at the time of this event and had overreacted due to fears of the looming uncertain future. But, by then, that promise had been deeply etched on her heart. And no amount rational explanations from the family convinced her to drive a two-wheeler.

In fact, she was twelve before she walked on a road without clutching someone's hand.

The first time Naina walked by her side without holding her hand, Vishakha experienced a strange mix of euphoria tinged with emptiness; glad that the fears that had invaded Naina's heart for so long were slowly fading, but the nook of Vishakha's elbow. which had grown used to the warm fingers that would curl into it as they walked to the market, felt almost desolate.

* * *

Alighting from the rickshaw, Naina briskly approached the main gate. The red and yellow signage of 'National Institute of Design', though now an everyday sight, still invoked a sense of pride in her just as it had almost three years back.

The sprawling green campus was buzzing with the creative energy of some of the most innovative minds in the country. The individual buildings, each designed with some unique concept in mind, acted as both the classroom and showcases of the product of the learning that happened in them. But learning was not limited to just classrooms here. Creativity bloomed in the open area auditoriums and under the canopies of large trees too.

Paying the other students only a cursory glance, Naina rushed to the building which housed her classroom. Spotting her lecturer, Mr Bagchi, just a little ahead Naina almost ran to overtake him and enter the class. Mr Bagchi, though very liberal when it came to nurturing his student's creativity, was very stringent when it came to timeliness. Naina quickly settled on the empty seat in the second row that her friend Shefali had saved for her.

"Late kyu ho gayi??" Shefali lightly elbowed her. "Interrogation baad mein kar lena... abhi Sir pe dhyan de." Naina shushed her. Her friend smirked, "Waise kafi smart lag rahe hain Bagchi sir aaj... nahi?" Naina rolled her eyes "Kabhi toh serious ho yaar!"

"Ms Agarwal! Something you would like to share with the class?" Mr Bagchi's voice boomed in the class. Looking embarrassed, Naina muttered "No sir... sorry..."

For the next hour all attention was focused on the merits of using polyester versus nylon for luggage especially designed for air travel. Mr Bagch covered the logistics of air travel - right from passenger's requirements for easy maneuverability, the weights and dimensions allowed by most airlines and the way baggage handlers moved, or rather tossed, the luggage.

As the lecture came to an end, Naina rushed to Mr Bagchi, who was in the process of packing his sleek looking leather briefcase, "Excuse me Sir, do you have few minutes to review the materials I have shortlisted for designing my small luggage range? Or... I can stay back after my fourth lecture..."

He immediately shook his head "I cannot stay back today." And added with twinkling eyes, "It's the annual day at my daughter's school. And she is dressing up as a sunflower, which must not only sway but twirl precisely three times on the stage!"

"Awww..." Naina gushed at the image, "Sir, then tomorrow??"

Glancing at this watch, Mr Bagchi muttered "We can review it now... I have a meeting with the VP in fifteen minutes."

"Thank you, Sir!" Naina pulled out a folder from her satchel and presented him with a few papers with her cost and durability analysis. Ten minutes of discussion later, she profusely thanked him again and left wishing his daughter good luck for her performance.

* * *

The work on a group project that Sameer was working on was finished for the day and he was walking toward the bike stand accompanied by a classmate.

Feeling a little restless, Sameer glanced at his watch, which was displaying the time as 4:37 pm. His friend Abhi immediately chuckled "Lagta hain tera curfew lagu hone ko hain. Naina ko pick-up karne jaana hain kya? Yaar, such keh raha hu jitne sincerely tu uske schedule ko balance karta hain... chahe toh do-do girlfriends ghooma sakta hain!"

"Hello! Main tujhe koi two timing road Romeo lagta hu, jo do-do girlfriends ka soochunga?!" Sameer frowned.

When his friend responded "Bhai, tu toh ek ka bhi sooch le toh bohot hain! Soon, woh Manisha phir puch rahi thi tera... yaar, baat toh kar usse!" he shrugged "Hi, hello karta toh hu... mujhe usse jyada baat badhane mein koi interest nahi hain."

Exasperated, Abhi uttered "Achi ladki hai... smart aur sundar... aur uppar se khud line de rahi hain. Aur kya chahiye?!" but Sameer retorted "Tune koi matchmaking agency kholi hain ya woh tujhe koi commission dene wali hain jo itni tarafdaari kar raha hain? Yaar, nahi hain mujhe inn ladkiyon mein koi interest! Just drop it man!"

Taken aback by the outburst, Abhi raised his hands "Sorry... main toh sirf... forget it. Chal, tu nikal, I will wait for Vinod. Mujhe usse kuch kaam hai." Nodding Sameer headed to his bike.

* * *

(Happy Sunday dearies!

Hope you enjoyed this update. Didn't get a chance to respond to your comments on the last part but will do that soon! Take care and share your thoughts on this part.

Big hug, May)