SS: For You I Will - COMPLETE Page 14 - Page 2

CHAPTER TWO

Zoya is at the bus stop in Agpur. The entrance to the Agpur IT College is behind her. She approaches the attendant at the service stand.

"Are you sure there are no buses that will get me back to Bhopal sooner than the 3:00?" she asks. "Please? Maybe I can connect in another village?"

The attendant shakes his head. Zoya signs heavily then heads back to the street. The market area is busy and crowded. She uses her hand to shield her eyes as she looks around. Her cell phone rings. She checks the readout and sighs again.

"Hello, Phupee, how are you?" Zoya makes her voice bright and cheerful.

"I'm fine. How is your research going?"

"Not as well as I'd hoped," Zoya admits. "The professor is on leave for the next few weeks. She's visiting her daughter and new grandson in Delhi."

"Zoya, the time is only 11:00." Dilshad's concern comes across clearly over the phone. "What will you do for the next four hours?"

Zoya looks discouraged but keeps her voice cheerful. "Don't worry about me, Phupee. There is a wonderful library here. I'll be able to do a great deal of research. I'll be absolutely fine until my bus."

"Well, if you're sure." Dilshad doesn't sound convinced.

"Yes, very sure." Zoya moves into the shade beside a vendor's cart. "The time will just fly by. This area is very interesting. Really. Don't worry at all."

"Zoya, I don't want you to wander around." Dilshad says firmly. "I want you to stay in the library where it is cool and safe. Do you understand?"

"Of course, Phupee. Please don't worry about me. This is a very nice area. I'm perfectly safe here." Zoya brushes her hair out of her face and wipes the sweat off her forehead.

"Zoya, stay in the library," Dilshad repeats. "Where do you keep your cell phone?"

"I have my purse." Zoya pats the little bag hanging off her shoulder.

"No. Put your cell phone in your pocket. I want you to have it close to you," Dilshad orders. "Someone may try to grab your bag even in the nicest areas. Keep your cell phone with you at all times."

"Alright, Phupee. I'll put it in my pocket as soon as we finish our call," Zoya promises.

"Good. Stay safe, Zoya. I'll check up on you in an hour." Dilshad disconnects the call.

Zoya tucks her cell phone into the front pocket of her jeans. She sighs again and heads back into the college.

***

Asad is in his office, holding his landline phone in the crook of his shoulder as he types on his computer keyboard. "2:00 will be just fine. Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Gill. I'm sure we can solve the issue at the plant this afternoon."

He hangs up his landline just as his cell phone rings. Asad checks the readout and quickly answers the call. "Ammi, are you alright?"

"Yes, of course," Dilshad answers. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Is it Najma? Is she okay?"

Dilshad laughs. "Yes, we're all fine. Can't a mother call her son for some reason other than to report a crisis?"

Asad relaxes visibly. "I just want to know you're okay."

"Yes, we're all well. Have you spoken with Mr. Gill? Did you discuss your concerns about his product?"

"Yes, Ammi. You were right to suggest that I give him another chance. He sounded very concerned when we talked. We're meeting at his production plant in Guspind. He wants to fix this matter as soon as possible."

"Good. I'm glad I could help." Dilshad sounds pleased. "When are you meeting him?"

"We'll meet at his factory this afternoon at 2:00."

"Asad, where is Guspind?"

Asad consults the map on his computer screen. "It's about seventy kilometers south of Bhopal. Why?"

"How far is that from Agpur?"

Asad clicks a few buttons and studies the computer again. "Agpur is about ten kilometers away from Guspind. Do you need something from Agpur?"

"Well," Dilshad's voice is hesitant.

Asad gets out of his chair. "It's no problem if you need me to pick up something. Agpur is only about half an hour out of my way."

"You're working. I don't want to trouble you."

Asad shrugs into his jacket. "It's no trouble, Ammi. In fact, I'm leaving now so I have plenty of time to run your errand before my meeting."

"If you're sure it's no bother...'" Dilshad pauses again.

"I'm sure." Asad walks out of his office. "What do you want me to get for you?"

Dilshad's voice is all sweet satisfaction. "Zoya."

Asad stumbles to stop and raises his head towards heaven. "Musibat. God help me."

***

"Uncle-ji, do you recognize anything in this picture?" Zoya asks the elderly man sitting under the tree shade.

The man takes the picture and shakes his head. "No, I don't. It's not from around here. Have you tried asking in Bhopal?"

"Yes, that's where I came from." Zoya sighs as she takes back the picture. "Thank you for looking."

"You should rest," the man says, looking around the sweltering market. "The day will only get hotter. I've seen you walking around in the sun for the past hour. The heat will make you sick if you don't cool off."

Zoya nods and looks around. She watches a group of college girls go past her. They all look comfortable and relaxed in short-sleeved, gauzy kameez salwars, their chunis floating lightly on their shoulders. She pulls down her shirt sleeve and tucks some lose hair strands back into her long braid.

"This was a dead end." She mops the sweat off her forehead. "So now what do I do for the next three hours?"

"You could practice being truthful," Asad suggests from over her shoulder. "That will probably take up quite a bit of time."

Zoya whirls to face him. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" He looks around pointedly. "You were supposed to be in the college library."

She doesn't meet his gaze. "I came out to take a break."

Asad rolls his eyes. "Right. Because it's so much more comfortable out here in the heat, dust and bus fumes."

She crosses her arms. "And why are you here?"

"Ammi asked me to pick you up. She was worried that you'd get into some disaster if you weren't supervised."

"Now wait just a minute, Mr. Khan. I'm fine on my own." She uncrosses her arms to poke her finger into his chest. "I didn't ask you to come after me."

Asad looks pointedly at her finger and takes a step back. "Regardless, I'm here. Now hurry up. I have enough to do today without wasting my time looking after you, musibat."

"Musibat?" Zoya sucks in her breath in outrage. "I am not trouble. I'm an adult who doesn't need a rigid, narrow-minded, seventeenth-century chauvinist telling me what to do."

"Seventeenth-century," he repeats. "Be grateful we're not in the seventeen century, Ms. Farooqui. No one would have put up with your nonsense for a single minute back then."

"Then it's lucky for me that the rest of the world has progressed, even if you haven't." She crosses her arms again. "Thank you for stopping by but I don't need your help."

Asad is unimpressed. "Fine. Then I'll be on my way. I understand your bus will be here in three hours. Enjoy your time." He turns away.

"Wait!" Zoya grabs his arm.

He turns back to her and raises his eyebrow.

She releases his arm and looks down. "Umm, since you've already taken the trouble to come here, I'll go with you."

Asad snorts. "Of course you will."

"Now, listen here, Mr. Khan," she begins.

He ignores her and head out of the market, not looking back to see if she follows. Zoya has to increase her pace to keep up with his longer steps. She is breathless and sweaty by the time they reach the car. Asad opens the doors.

She steps back from the wave of heat that comes from the interior. "Whew. Can it get any hotter?"

Asad flips on the air conditioner. "This is summer in India. What did you expect? Snow?"

She leans forward to allow the cool air to fan her face. "How do you stand the heat? It's over a hundred degrees out here."

"Don't exaggerate. It makes you sound childish."

"I'm not exaggerating. It is over a hundred degrees out here."

"It cannot be over one hundred degrees. That's not physically possible."

She pulls out her computer tablet and brings up the weather report. "See? It's over one hundred degrees."

He leans closer to study the display then sighs as though gathering his patience. "This is in Fahrenheit. In India, we use the metric system. It's thirty-eight degrees Celsius."

"Fahrenheit or Celsius, it doesn't matter." She waves her hand to dismiss the small detail. "Either way, it is insanely hot out here. How do people stand it?"

"We stay indoors when possible." He pulls out onto the street. "Speaking of which, Ammi told you to stay in the library but I didn't find you there. What were you doing in the market?"

"Research." She shifts uncomfortably. "How did you find me in that busy market?"

"I asked around for an annoying American girl in jeans and a shirt." Asad looks over at her. "You may do many things well, Ms. Farooqui, but blending is not among them."

Chapter 3: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/77392493