It was a usual working day. Our car bustled through the busy lane, honking now and then, its wipers sweeping away the incessant downpour on the windscreen, as best as they could. At the driver’s seat, my husband steered the car deftly through the traffic, while I attended to the buzzing cellphones. The car screeched to a halt suddenly. My husband swore and muttered under his breath. I looked up anticipating a small crash but there was a couple in front of us-a young couple under an umbrella, totally engrossed in their cocoon, wading through the ankle-deep water, oblivious of the world around them. My husband slid down the glass and screamed,” Want to die, uh? Why choose my car?” There was no retaliation from their end. The cocoon of twosomeness remained unbreakable. A yellow radhachura flower drenched in rain fell on our windscreen and stuck to it. Though frustrated, my husband looked at me and smiled. I smiled back. We stopped for a few minutes watching the couple disa...