Yasmeen rose and bathed at the crack of dawn; she was glad the attached bathroom had a functional water heater. She stepped out of her room to take in the view of the first morning of her new life. The small rooftop apartment and the adjoining terrace looked like an incomplete watercolour under the glow of the rising sun. The lake was visible at a distance, its surface shimmering like a dancing mirror. She could see an emerald patch of old trees standing like sentinels, filled with songbirds that could be heard but not seen easily. She could not have picked a better location to live in, so close to and yet so far removed from the city. 

She heard footsteps behind her, without turning around she knew it had to be her rakish young neighbour who came up to her and wished her a pleasant morning. For a moment she stopped breathing as she took in his appearance from the corner of her eye, he was dressed in a black wife-beater and track pants, his worked-out torso glistening with perspiration. He had been out jogging and had just returned with some steaming hot tea and a pack of biscuits which he probably picked up at a tiny tea shop on his way back.

As they stood at the parapet overlooking the lake sharing their morning tea they could easily be mistaken for a pair of lovers in their secluded love nest. Her breath quickened to feel his musky body standing so close to her just as he felt a surge of desire watching the swell of her bodice rise and fall rapidly in response to his presence. His senses picked up her signature sandalwood fragrance while he noticed her nervously trying to flick crumbs off the corner of her mouth, drawing attention to her partially hidden lips. He knew if he did not walk away right then he would lose control. They had just met; it was best not to rush things, he might scare her off. He excused himself to go for a shower and the spell was broken. 

As he towelled his hair dry he could hear her singing the famous bandish 'albela sajan ayo ri' based on the dawn raag Ahir Bhairav. Not wanting to disturb her during riyaaz he strolled over to the small shed next to the utility space behind the rooms where he spotted an abandoned twin tub washing machine. His interest perked up. Upfront it seemed to be out of order but as he examined it carefully he realised that with the right spares he could try to get it working. He went to the landlady to ask for her permission to give it a try. 

She was actually delighted to have a handyman in her barsati, it was getting difficult for her to manage around the house as she lived with only her young grandson and her maid. Her daughter-in-law had died during childbirth and her son had moved to Dubai since, setting up another home. He sent remittances to his mother but hardly visited, under the influence of his new wife. Not wanting to have the young Aman neglected by his step-mother she took the onus of bringing him up herself. Randhir felt moved on hearing her tale, he promised to be of as much assistance as he could. For starters, he helped fix a leaky kitchen faucet and showed her how to use her smart phone features optimally. 

 She abruptly asked him about his relationship with Yasmeen and he opened up to her, admitting how he had been charmed by the girl and wanted to pursue her although it was too early, besides she was quite a private and reserved person. She smiled at his candour, assuring him that she had a gut feeling the girl was 'khaandani', someone who would not yield easily. He told her he was in no hurry; his studies would still be his priority over the next two and a half years.

The doorbell rang and the maid answered to let in Parth. Randhir introduced him to the landlady telling her how they had practically grown up together before making it to IIT. He had asked Parth to help set up house in the barsati. At the time of paying his rent in advance he had informed her of two possible visitors, his sister Vidushi and his best friend Parth, she had agreed provided there would be no nuisance from them and that the rent was paid in time. She was actually glad she had found tenants so effortlessly without having to haggle over the money.

As Randhir led Parth upstairs, they spotted the little boy Aman standing next to Yasmeen, watching her plant some seeds in the large abandoned pots on the terrace. She had paid the gardener to top them with soil and had also asked for some cuttings and more seeds. He introduced Parth to Yasmeen and Aman. Just then the little boy innocently asked Yasmeen when her melons would be grown and ripe. For a moment there was a stunned silence and then the furiously blushing girl rushed downstairs with the little boy. Parth broke into a guffaw as a grinning Randhir aimed a kick at his buddy asking him to take his marauding mind off his turf!

For your listening pleasure, classical music, not the film version:

Albela sajan aayo by Ustad Rashid Khan