Moving On

"So where are you headed now?"

"Tehran."

"don't be kidding, how will you go to Tehran? Why anyway?"

"What do you mean how will I get there. I can choose to ride my motorbike, or take a flight from Bombay."

"Is there anybody you will meet there? Why Tehran of all places?"

"Yes, I want to see the last star in the morning sky..." I laugh.

"Don't try juvenile poetry early in the morning, Ari, go brush your teeth first."

"Oh no, she is called Jinoos, meaning 'the last star in the morning sky'. I will be meeting her."

I am not going to Tehran anyway. But I can't tell her that. I have to move on. Not possible if I leave any traces. I have to find a new life where my past will not haunt me anymore.

"Oh, a girl? Ari, I really don't understand you. Who is this Jinoos by the way? How do you know her?"

"Don't be a nag. You sound like you are married to me or something. I'm not even sure you have the right to ask so many questions."

She quietly left the room.

I don't know if she had any more visions after that. I left Pune and rode on. Stopped near Nerul for a while to get my chain tightened and moved on again. Jinoos is this sculptor friend of mine from Tehran. Very, very pretty. Very pretty indeed. Yeah, that itself is reason enough to go to Tehran, but don't be a fool now. Don't get waylaid by the lure of beautiful faces. Someday you will have your harem, but now is not the time. So my mobike chugged ahead, its steady, pleasant thump almost transponding me to another world.