Jaya Singh

The next morning, a pall of dread hung over Jaya as she prepared to accompany Deepak to the police station. She draped a heavy veil across her face, hoping to obscure her identity for as long as possible.

Deepak's friends Raj, Kabir, and Sunil were already waiting outside when they emerged, lingering beside Deepak's cycle. The three men greeted Jaya with respectful nods, though she could sense their curious gazes appraising her shrouded form.

The ride to the station passed in tense silence. Jaya kept her face angled downwards, focusing on steadying her ragged breathing. Deepak reached across at one point to give her hand a reassuring squeeze, but withdrew it quickly.

Upon arriving, Jaya trailed behind the four men into the police inspector's stuffy office. She shrank against the wall, trying to make herself invisible as the inspector looked her way.

"Please, madamji, make yourself comfortable," the heavyset man said, gesturing to the solitary chair across from his desk. "And there's no need for that parda here."

Jaya clutched her veil tightly, shaking her head. The inspector sighed, exchanging exasperated glances with the others.

"Very well, keep your privacy for now if you must," he grumbled. "But you'll make this process easier if you cooperate."

The questioning began in earnest then. Jaya sat rigid, her mind racing as she tried to navigate each inquiry with plausible half-truths and feigned ignorance.

"State your name for the record, madamji."

A heavy pause before Jaya uttered the first lie. "...Pushpa Rani."

The inspector's eyebrows shot up, but he continued. "Pushpa Rani? What is your husband's name?"

"I...I don't recall his full name," Jaya lied, her voice muffled behind the veil. "Only that he is called Pankaj."

A muscle ticked in Deepak's jaw at her reply, but he remained silent and still as stone. The inspector made a notation, drumming his fingers irritably on the desk before moving on.

"Where are you from? What village?"

Jaya faltered, panic gripping her. In her desperation, she glanced towards Deepak, silently pleading for help. He seemed to understand and quickly chimed in.

"She's from very far away, huzoor. A remote area across the border in another district. Her memory is...fragile from the distressing journey here."

The inspector grunted, accepting the excuse for now as his line of questioning continued. With each falsehood and obfuscation from Jaya, his frown deepened further.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he sat back with an aggrieved sigh. "That's enough for today. But I must warn you, if I detect any indications your...bride...is being less than fully truthful, there will be consequences."

He leveled a stern look at Deepak, who nodded quickly. "Of course, huzoor. We understand fully."

With that curt dismissal, they filed out of the office, with Deepak ushering Jaya ahead of him urgently. Her head swam from the interrogation's anxious tension.

It wasn't until they were outside, climbing back on Deepak's cycle that she felt she could breathe again. As they pulled away, Deepak reached over to take her hand once more.

"You did well back there, Pushpa," he murmured, using the name she had provided. His thumb traced over her knuckles soothingly.

Jaya shuddered, giving a tremulous nod as she stared sightlessly through the veil's shroud. She had averted catastrophe today, but at what cost? Each lie uttered only compounded the eventual fallout once the truth inevitably unraveled.

As the village came back into view, Jaya couldn't help but wonder if mere time was a blessing or a curse. For every lingering moment with Deepak was another tightening of the noose around her neck.

•

The police inspector leaned back in his creaky chair with a dissatisfied grunt after Deepak and the veiled woman departed. His seasoned instincts sensed something amiss about the entire situation.

"What are your thoughts, Seema?" he asked, glancing over at his junior officer. Constable Seema Kapoor had been assisting with the proceedings, taking cautious notes throughout the tense interrogation.

Seema set down her pen, considering her reply carefully before speaking. "That woman...she was clearly being evasive about details, sahab. Almost as if she were hiding her true identity from us."

The inspector gave a curt nod. "My assessment as well. Her reticence to even show her face raises too many red flags to ignore." He stroked his whiskered chin pensively. "I sense Deepak is abetting something unscrupulous regarding her."

"Should we bring them back in for more forceful questioning, sahab?" Seema asked, her hand instinctively moving towards her bilawa stick.

"Not yet," the inspector replied gruffly. He reached into a nearby tray and pulled out a creased, folded piece of paper. "We may have an explanation for the secrecy soon enough."

Seema eyed the paper curiously as her superior unfolded it to review the contents once more. It was a written report from a police station in a distant village, detailing concerning allegations.

"A few days ago, we received this report from the Pateela station," the inspector explained. "Some man named Pradeep Kishan claims his newlywed bride, one Jaya Singh, has fled after stealing his valuables and mobile phone."

Seema's eyebrows rose sharply at this revelation. "You don't think...?"

"That the veiled woman could be this Jaya Singh?" The inspector's frown deepened. "It's certainly a possibility worth exploring based on the secrecy today."

He tapped the report with his finger. "According to Pradeep Kishan, this Jaya has a distinctive tattoo on her left wrist with her name. And he claims to be sending a photograph to verify her identification."

Crossing the cramped office, the inspector opened up a battered metal filing cabinet and began sifting through its chaotic contents. "We'll need to go over any faxes received recently with a fine-toothed comb..."

He trailed off as Seema suddenly cleared her throat. "Umm...about that photograph, sahab. I don't believe we've received it yet, based on the transmission log."

The inspector's head whipped around, eyes narrowing. "You're certain? Double check, this is critical evidence!"

Seema swallowed and gave a solemn nod. "I'm sure, sir. No faxes received from Pateela station, or anywhere else in that region."

A tense silence stretched between them as the implications sank in. If this woman was indeed Jaya Singh, an alleged criminal fleeing her husband, they may have just allowed a felonious fraud to slither through their grasp thanks to the incompetence of some distant precinct.

"Find out where that blasted fax is immediately!" the inspector barked, slamming his hand on the desk with a bang. "And put an officer on widening the surveillance net around Deepak's residence. If that woman is a fugitive, I want her back in custody as soon as possible!"

Intimidated by her superior's wrath, Seema could only nod meekly and scurry to expedite his furious orders. She only hoped they weren't already too late to rectify this potential injustice.

As the sunset faded to inky darkness outside, the station's atmosphere took on a singularly focused tension. They could not afford to let this alleged criminal bride slip through the cracks a second time.

•

The dusty village road stretched out before them as Deepak and Jaya walked in silence, having bid farewell to Raj, Kabir and Sunil after the tense visit to the police station. A warm evening breeze kicked up little whirlwinds of sand that stung their cheeks.

Deepak snuck a sidelong glance at the woman beside him. So much about her remained an enigma that he ached to unravel, if only she would allow it. He cleared his throat.

"You...you were very composed back there," he began cautiously. "I know that interrogation couldn't have been easy."

Jaya shook her head minutely, but didn't reply. Deepak pressed on.

"Not many women would have the fortitude to remain so steadfast in the face of such scrutiny. You're far braver than you likely give yourself credit for."

At this, Jaya finally spoke up, her voice muffled but carrying a rueful tone. "It wasn't bravery, Deepak. Merely the desperation of a cornered animal."

Her cynical self-assessment made Deepak frown. "I refuse to believe that. You may have felt trapped by circumstance, but the poise you showed was truly admirable."

A melancholic chuckle escaped her mouth before she could stop it.

Intrigued, Deepak slowed his steps to better study her downcast silhouette in the fading light. "Feels like you've been through a lot in your life."

She didn't respond right away, seemingly debating how much to divulge. When she finally spoke, her voice was tinged with melancholy.

"Let's just say...I've learned not to take kindness at face value. Life has a way of callousing you over time."

Deepak felt his heart constrict at her bleak assessment. On instinct, he reached over and gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"Well, whatever happened before, you're not alone anymore," he said simply. "If you'll allow it, I'd like to try chipping away at some of those callouses."

Jaya's eyes widened slightly at the unexpected warmth in his tone and gesture. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. An unspoken understanding seemed to pass between them in the pregnant pause.

Giving her hand one last comforting squeeze, Deepak let go and continued walking, putting some casual distance between them again. He could sense her surprise, but didn't want to push too far.

Jaya felt her heart flutter as Deepak flashed that crooked smile in her direction. Damn him, she thought, clenching her fists. Why did he have to be so charming? So infuriatingly irresistible?

She tried to push away the warmth spreading through her chest by forcing her eyes away from his. But it was no use. Her gaze was helplessly drawn back, drinking in the unusual confidence in his stride, the twinkle of mischief in his dark eyes.

This was bad. She was quickly losing the battle to guard her heart. With each interaction, each heated look or whispered joke between them, she could feel the walls she'd carefully constructed crumbling bit by bit. Deepak wasn't making it easy for her to stay detached.

Part of her wanted nothing more than to finally surrender, to let herself tumble into the depths of the feelings he inspired. While another part clawed viciously to maintain control, flinging up every argument and excuse as to why she shouldn't dare risk it all for a romance that was surely inevitable heartbreak waiting to happen.

But she could deny the growing ache inside for only so long. Deepak had set the tides of her affection crashing harder than ever before. Try as she might to resist, she knew she was already halfway towards losing her heart completely.

"In any case," he continued in a lighter tone, "I'll need you at full strength if we're going to get through many more rounds of questioning by that constable beast."

The corners of Jaya's mouth twitched upwards, finally breaking into a small smile. "Yes, he certainly seemed...thorough in his work."

"That's one word for it," Deepak chuckled. He slanted her a sidelong look, relieved to see some of the heaviness had lifted from her countenance, if only momentarily. "I have a feeling his tenacity is just getting started."

"Well, then I'm glad to have you in my corner should push come to shove," Jaya replied, her smile widening ever so slightly.

In that moment, something warm and welcome blossomed in Deepak's chest. Her openness, her trust in him...it was profound given whatever pain clearly lingered in her past. And he silently vowed not to take that fragile faith for granted.

As their laughter faded into an easy quiet, Deepak snuck another glance at Jaya's profile, admiring the way the fading rays of sunset gilded her beautiful, inscrutable features.