Tanya (some years down the line and now a drop-out from college).Ma and Pa have been here, way out in this wilderness, for the past six months; looking to up-liftthe lot of the Adivasi tribals. I arrived four days ago and am bored stiff with the place. Flat monotonousfields stretching for millions of miles; trees around the bungalow infested with incessantly cawingcrows. Three hundred meters from the Dak bungalow is a narrow macadam road that leads to god onlyknows where; villagers are always walking up or down the road - depends which direction youconsider up and which down, it is all flat; the odd cyclist listlessly cycles up/down the road ringing thebell pointlessly; at 3p.m. the local bus goes by tooting its electric horn mainly to let people know theonce-a-day bus has arrived should they wish to catch it to go up the road. The down-the-road bus goesthrough at 8 a.m.

I am here to wallow in the assured solace and love my parents always shower on me. Whatevergoes askew, their unquestioning loving arms and ample bosoms are always there to hold me and soothaway my problems. And I have a whole large heap of them which my parents don't know about. Theyassume - my dearest sweet procreators - that I must need a break from another love affair gone wrong.But I must move on now and not expose my dear parents to what would take place if the Police posse'caught up with me here.

I have given my parents a large duffle bag to keep secreted. "No one must ever know it is here.""But what's in it, child?"

You don't want to know, Pa. It has my personal things and, for me, very valuable papers.Please look after it for me. I mean really look after it.

Thankfully he didn't probe any further. But the look in his eye said, 'Let any Son-of-a-bitch tryand take it from me'. I was pleased.

Mandeep (my mate) would meet me at the crossroads at 11 a.m. tomorrow. I will take the downbus at 8 a.m. He would want to know where the canvas bag was...Shit!I'll have to make up a story...a believable story. And if he becomes too tiresome, I'll use mybountiful charm failing which ... my trusted switch knife!#

We have been travelling steadily for two hours now. Mandeep is sitting leaning away from mein his seat, not a good sign! He's got his elbow resting on the aisle-side armrest with his chin cupped inhis palm, leaning over and staring fixedly at a small tare on the green Rexene covering the back of theseat in front of him.

"Where's the canvas case?" He had demanded when we met. I straightened my shoulders in adefensive posture.

It's safe. I looked defiantly at him.

"Safe where?" He demanded getting confrontational.

I know where - okay? I stuck my small breasts out at him.

"It's not OKAY! I have a share in it too." He snarled taking a step closer to me.Oh fuck!

You lost all 'rights' when you injured the guard, now you are at my mercy! I flung at him."So?" He barked.

Back-off, arse hole.

He had a hard look, jaw muscles bunching, "You could be the next calamity, bitch."And seven days ago he was fucking me like nothing else mattered in the whole wide world. Seehow money can change the equation of life??

He withdrew giving me some space. This would come up again in a big way and I would haveto be prepared in a bigger way.

The bus stopped at a roadside dhaba and we descended and got a cup of hot over sweet tea. Hegrabbed my mobile and checked the calls I had made in the last seven days -no calls. His jaw set in amore determined line. He won't give up that easy...likely he won't give up at all. But nobody couldtrace me to my parent's place. I had left no trail. And I had been careful and had worn a full mask forthe bank heist.