1947.

When the independence came we were out looking for the line that seperated our lives before and after. A line that was not merely a political one, but one of substance that revealed a freedom that had always belonged to us.The truths of freedom though do not lie in the assigning of a new dawn when such a time has not yet come. The truths of freedom are bound to our relationships with our countrymen, the simple availability of grain and the small but magnificent idea that one can move through social strata's without fear. Nonetheless, tonight, freedom manifested itself everywhere through the promise that was offered with independence. An idea, an action, a dream all flooding through the land's gutters and alley ways. 

So tonight, when the city was ablaze with both fire and hope, and the sky was bursting with a thousand colours the people had released, in the smallest room of the floor above a tobacco shop he shared his first kiss. The adults had all run into the streets to celebrate, forgetting momentarily the children who were pretending to be asleep in whatever they used for a bed. It was not surprising that his father had always called Mohan an opportunist, for it was at this moment, when mothers and fathers were abandoning their posts and the city was drenched with the spirit of liberation that he climbed out of his bed, through the window and on to the roof. From there, it was only a few careful leaps across the closely collected rooftops of  Vibhav Nagar. He stopped, knowing exactly where she lived and stumbled onto her balcony. Behind him, the streets were full, the teenagers too drunk to care about a young boy running through the rooftops of Agra. Someone called out "Thief!", but even such an accusation was submerged in laughter. For how trivial was the crime of a thief? How much it didn't matter on this night. 

He was not yet old enough to realize exactly why the city had gone mad, but he knew something important was happening. He knew then that to invest in this particular night would bring about the best outcome. He picked the lock of the balcony door with ease and moved through her house without concern for anything. He was brash, stumbling over pots and chairs but laughing to himself. He didn't care. Something beautiful was happening outside and he was going to transfer that feeling into this house. He knew no-one else was home but her, and he called out. Bravely, stupidly, with all the zeal a 14 year old boy can muster he let her name tumble out of his mouth. Instead of appearing from the smallest room in the house, she came through the front door at that exact moment. Upon seeing him, her face broke into a smile. And then, an expression that held the same excitement and curiosity Mohan's voice had betrayed. Both of them were drenched in the heat that came with all Augusts, which for some reason had grown thicker tonight. Perhaps it was the fires in the city. Perhaps it was the realization that change was creeping through not only the land but this room, coiling itself around their hands and clothes and eyelashes. 

"I was out looking for you," She said.

"I came here. Everyones gone."

"I know."