Are you sure.

It's a Sunday on 24th September 2006. Alok Singhal is getting married today. He was in college with me. He is getting married to his girlfriend, then a fiancee, now wife, Deepika. I was excited to be there with my friends. Fortunately, IIM Indore managed to give me vacation in such a way that my last day at home would be the day when Alok would tie the knot. Interestingly Alok had too arrived to his place from Mumbai for the weekend to get married and take his wife with him there. I was doubly excited as I expected to meet most of batchmates after a long time as well. The first stop was the petrol refilling station. To great my luck, the petrol pump stopped in between while the fuel was being pumped. A delay of 15 minutes. I am a person who is very particular about time. IIM Indore has transformed me into a person who is 'finicky' about time. So I was irritated. No frustrated. Anyway, I did get onto to the road finally. Turned on the music...Ahhh...rolled up the windows....

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees, The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor, And the highwayman came riding- riding-riding- The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door. He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin, A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin; They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh! And he rode with a jewelled twinkle, His pistol butts a-twinkle, His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky. Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard, And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred; He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's dau

Winters are really romantic in Delhi. I love the fog, it makes me feel I am in heaven. Things look cleaner and everyone looks cute. Late November of 2001 was not so chilly. But the sunshine in the foggy winter mornings felt very nice, whenever it got the chance to hit my skin. That morning I boarded my school bus and found a seat behind the exit stairs at the back. There was more legroom in that seat and I could see more of the outside world from that seat. I was listening to Instant Karma on my walkman when my bus turned it's final turn to reach the final stretch of the road. Shaan sang into my ears ' Hum bewafa ' with the soothing and ambient music by Bally Sagoo. I could see, that I could not see far ahead on the road. The fog was thick here. This road which led me to the school, had trees on both sides of it. The trees covered most of the road. In summers these provided shade and in winters....an aura. Music can do wonders. And slow music can do miracles. It made time m