The next morning, Pathankot woke up to a heavy, humid stillness, the kind that preceded a massive thunderstorm. Jaskirat, however, had been awake since 4:00 AM. For the first time in his life, his morning run felt like a tactical retreat from his own thoughts. He had polished his black leather shoes until he could see his nervous reflection in them and had spent a small fortune at the florist near the railway station on a bunch of red roses that he was currently hiding inside a hollowed-out newspaper roll.
He met Gurbaaz at the near the college. Gurbaaz took one look at Jassi—who was wearing a crisp, ironed white shirt and trousers that could cut paper
"Oye hoye, Rangi sahab! Aj te lagda hai seedha Commission len ja rahe ho," Gurbaaz laughed, then looked at the newspaper roll. "Phool laya hain? Te shayari yaad kiti?"
Jaskirat wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. "Shayari te kiti hai, par galat jagah te 'rhythm' tutt jandi hai. Gurbaaz, menu sachi darr lag reha hai. Border te goli khana asaan hai, par Reet de sahmne khade hona... mushkil hai."
"Darr ke aage jeet hai, bhai," Gurbaaz said, patting his back. "Chal hun, oh wait kar rahi hovegi."
They reached the college grounds. Reet was standing by the old fountain, away from the prying eyes of the main corridor. She was wearing a pale pink suit, her hair left open today, cascading over her shoulders like a dark silken veil. When she saw Jassi approaching, she crossed her arms, a challenging but beautiful smile playing on her lips.
Gurbaaz did a sharp U-turn. "Main ja reha haan. Good luck, Captain!"
Jaskirat walked forward. His boots clicked on the pavement with military precision, but his heart was doing a frantic bhangra. He stopped exactly three feet away from her.
"Sat Sri Akal, Reet," he said, his voice deep and slightly gravelly.
"Sat Sri Akal," she replied, raising an eyebrow. "Te fer? Tayaari karke aaya hain? Ya aj vi Continental Drift de baare vich gal karni hai?"
Jaskirat took a deep breath. He reached into the newspaper roll and pulled out the roses. They were slightly squashed but still vibrant. He held them out, not with a flourish, but with the steady hand of a soldier presenting a salute.
Reet took the flowers, her fingers brushing against his, sending a jolt through his system. "Bohot pyare ne. Par Jassi... sirf phoolan naal kam nahi chalega. Mainu yaad hai main ki keha si."
Jaskirat cleared his throat. He looked her straight in the eyes, abandoning the "unobvious" pining for good. "Reet, main sachi bohot bada buddhu haan. Mainu laga si ki je main tennu geography de bahane milunga, te sab thik rahega. Par sach te eh hai ki... mera dimaag tere baare vich sochde hoye kabhi calm nahi rehnda."
He took a half-step closer. "Main fauj vich jana chaunda haan. Mainu pata hai ki meri zindagi bohot mushkil hovegi. Mainu border te rehna paina hai, mahineyan tak ghar ton door. Par main chaunda haan ki jab main border te hovan, te mere dimaag vich ek hi cheez hove,
ki Pathankot vich koi hai jo mera wait kar reha hai. Oh tu hain, Reet."
Reet’s expression softened. The teasing glint in her eyes was replaced by a misty, genuine warmth. "Jassi..."
"Ruk ja, aje poori gal nahi hoyi," Jassi interrupted, gaining momentum. "Main tenu waada karda haan ki main hamesha tere naal rahunga. Je main tere naal hovan, te mainu lagda hai main poori duniya jit sakda haan. Reet Dhillon... ki tu meri girlfriend banegi? Te ki tu mera wait karengi jab main academy vich hovanga?"
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the distant sound of a military truck's horn. Reet looked down at the roses, then back up at him. She stepped closer, so close that Jaskirat could smell the faint scent of roses and soap on her.
"Propose te tu sachi bohot 'rob' naal kita hai," she whispered, a small tear glistening in the corner of her eye. "Par ek gal das... je main no keh dindi te?"
Jaskirat gave a small, confident smirk—the first real one he’d ever directed at her. "Te fer main tennu dobara propose karda. Agli baar Hydrology de bahane."
Reet laughed, wiping her eye. "Buddhu! Pagal hai tu."
She reached out and tucked a small rosebud into the pocket of his white shirt. "Hanjii, Jaskirat Singh Rangi. Main tera wait karungi. Te main hamesha tere naal khadi rahungi. Par ek shart hai... chitthi roz likhni paini hai."
"Roz likhunga. Roz ek naya geography da doubt likh ke bhejunga," Jassi promised, his face lighting up with a smile so bright it outshone the morning sun.
For a moment, they just stood there in the quiet corner of the Pathankot college, caught in the gravity of a first love that felt as solid as the mountains in the distance. No more codes, no more excuses, no more hidden glances.
Suddenly, a loud whistle pierced the air. Gurbaaz and Monty were hanging out of a first-floor classroom window, cheering and clapping.
"Oye shava! Mubarak ho, Jassi! Bhabhi mil gayi!" Gurbaaz yelled.
Reet blushed crimson, hiding her face behind the bouquet. Jaskirat looked up at the window, shook his fist in a playful threat, but couldn't stop grinning.
"Chal, class shuru hon wali hai," Reet said, taking his hand for the very first time. Her hand was small and warm in his large, calloused palm.
"Aj kedi class hai?" Jassi asked, floating on air.
"Oh... oh te menu bilkul nahi aandi," Jassi laughed.
As they walked together toward the main block, Jaskirat felt a sense of completion. He was still the boy who wanted to serve his country, the boy with the polished shoes and the short hair. But now, he wasn't just marching toward a duty; he was marching toward a future that had a name. And that name was Reet.
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A few days later, the oppressive Pathankot heat finally broke, giving way to a cool, overcast afternoon that smelled of wet earth and impending rain. It was the perfect day for a movie, especially since Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge had finally arrived at the local single-screen cinema, Chitra Talkies. The theater was a relic of the eighties, with peeling velvet seats, massive ceiling fans that whirred like helicopters, and a crowd that cheered every time Shah Rukh Khan appeared on screen.
Jaskirat had spent the entire morning cleaning Gurbaaz’s Bajaj Chetak scooter. He’d polished the green metal until it shone, kicked the starter pedal a dozen times to ensure it wouldn't stall, and even sprayed a bit of his father’s old Old Spice aftershave on the seats.
Inside the theater, the atmosphere was electric. The darkness provided a rare, private sanctuary for the young couple. They sat in the balcony row, a bucket of heavily salted, yellow popcorn sitting untouched between them. During the iconic scene where Raj holds Simran’s hand from the moving train, Jaskirat found the courage to slide his hand across the armrest.
His large, calloused fingers met Reet’s soft hand. She didn't pull away. Instead, she laced her fingers through his, leaning her head lightly against his shoulder. Jaskirat stared straight at the screen, his body completely rigid, his heart hammering so loudly he was certain the uncle sitting next to them could hear it. He didn't look at her, but the gentle pressure of her hand was better than any movie climax.
"Oye Jassi," she whispered, her breath warm against his collarbone. "Film vekh le. Screen udhar hai."
Jaskirat coughed, his face burning in the dim glow of the projector. "Main... main film hi vekh reha haan. Bohot vadiya actor hai eh."
"Hanjii, dikh reha hai," she giggled, squeezing his hand tighter.
When the lights came on, they blinked against the sudden brightness, both of them adjusting their clothes with a self-conscious flush. They walked out into the bustling Main Bazaar, where the evening energy was just picking up. The market was bustling,
the loud music blasting from cassette shops, the sizzle of fresh tikkis in giant iron tawas, and the vibrant displays of colorful dupattas hanging from the shop awnings.
"Jassi, chal na... oh samne wali shop ton jhumke vekhne ne," Reet said, pulling his arm toward a small artificial jewelry stall draped in glittering trinkets.
"Jhumke? Par tere kol pehle hi bohot saare ne," Jassi said, though he was already walking in that direction. To him, her requests weren't commands; they were missions.
"Kudiyan kol kade vi jhumke khatam nahi hunde, samjhe?" she retorted, throwing him a playful glare. "Eh dikhana bhaji," she told the shopkeeper, pointing to a pair of long, silver-plated earrings with tiny blue beads that matched her suit perfectly.
She held one up to her ear, tilting her head. "Kive lag reha hai? Sahi hai?"
Jaskirat looked at her. The neon light from a nearby electronics shop caught the curve of her smile, and for a second, he forgot they were standing in the middle of a crowded Pathankot market. "Bohot... bohot sohna hai. Bilkul tere warga."
The shopkeeper smiled knowingly, and Reet quickly lowered her hand, her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. "Acha, pack kar do fer."
Jaskirat immediately reached into his pocket for his wallet. "Main pay karunga."
"Nahi Jassi, main khud..."
"Reet, chup kar," Jassi said with a quiet, firm authority that left no room for argument. "Main keha na, main pay karunga." He handed a crisp twenty-rupee note to the vendor, refusing to take the change. It was a matter of pride for a Rangi.
By the time they finished gathering her things and walking back to the parked scooter, the sky had turned a deep, bruised indigo. The evening streetlights were flickering to life, casting long shadows on the tarmac.
"Chal, hun der ho rahi hai," Reet said, a sudden note of anxiety in her voice. "Bhaji te papa ghar aane wale honge. Je ohna ne menu dekh lya te anarth ho jayega."
"Darr na, main tenu time te chadh devanga," Jassi said, kick-starting the Chetak. The engine roared to life with a familiar, smoky pop-pop-pop. "Aaja, baith."
Reet climbed onto the side-saddle seat, holding her dupatta tightly against the wind. As the scooter navigated the potholes of the Pathankot roads, passing by the cantonment walls and the military checkpoints, she shifted closer to him, her hands lightly resting on his waist for balance. Jaskirat drove with absolute concentration, his eyes scanning the mirrors, feeling a protective surge inside his chest. He wasn't just a boy driving his girlfriend home; he was a guardian carrying a precious cargo.
As they neared her neighborhood, the bustling main roads gave way to the quiet, narrow residential alleys typical of the town
lined with high brick walls and overhanging bougainvillea.
"Jassi, ethe hi rok de," Reet whispered, tapping his shoulder. "Agle mod te mera ghar hai. Othay nahi jana."
Jaskirat pulled the scooter into a dark, narrow lane, an alley away from her house. The brick walls shielded them from the main street. He turned off the engine, and the sudden silence of the evening settled over them, broken only by the distant barking of a street dog.
Reet slid off the scooter, smoothing down her salwar kameez. She looked nervous but incredibly beautiful in the dim twilight. "Thank you, Jassi. Aj da din bohot vadiya si."
"Mera vi," Jassi said, standing up from the scooter. He looked at her, his hands tucked safely in his pockets to keep from reaching out. "Kal college vich milange?"
"Hanjii, pakka," she smiled.
She took a step back, as if to leave, but then paused. She looked around the empty alley, her heart racing. Before Jaskirat could process what was happening, she took a swift step forward, leaned in on her tiptoes, and pressed her soft lips against his cheek.
The kiss was brief, fleeting, and sweeter than anything Jaskirat had ever experienced. It left the faint scent of her jasmine oil lingering in the air.
"Sat Sri Akal, Future Captain sahab," she whispered breathlessly.
Then, she turned and ran down the alley, her sky-blue dupatta fluttering behind her like a sail as she disappeared around the corner toward her house.
Jaskirat stood frozen by the scooter, his hand slowly rising to touch the spot on his cheek where her lips had just been. He felt like he’d been hit by a mortar shell of pure emotion. A goofy, helpless grin spread across his face, and he let out a long, shaky breath. Tu sachi pagal ho gaya hain, Jassi, he thought to himself.
He was about to mount the scooter to drive back to Gurbaaz's place when something metallic glinted on the dark, dusty ground near his boot.
He leaned down and picked it up. It was one of the silver-plated jhumkas she was wearing, it must have unhooked and slipped from her ear when she turned to run.
He held the small piece of jewelry in his palm, the silver cold against his warm skin. He looked toward the corner where she had vanished. He could go after her, but that would risk facing her father or her imposing older brother.
He smiled, closing his fist tightly around the jhumka. He slipped it into his chest pocket, right over his heart.
"Chalo, agle doubt di tayaari ho gayi," Jassi murmured to himself, a soft laugh escaping his lips.
He started the scooter, the engine hum keeping time with the frantic, happy beat of his heart. As he rode back through the cool Pathankot night, the silver jhumka pressed safely against his chest, he knew he didn't need any more excuses about maps or geography.
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A/N: sorry guys if the proposal scene was...weird....cuz maine kabhi kisi ko propose nahi kiya....so no practical experience.
