It was pouring as my car came to a sluggish stop at a red light. I stuck my head out of the window, and, in a feeble attempt, tried to wipe the windscreen clear. That’s when I saw her: my bright, bold, first-class-first, beautiful college friend, Maya. I came to a splashing halt. “Maya, hi!” I called through the rolled-down window. “Can I give you a lift?” She smiled and jumped into the car. She hadn’t changed a bit; still slim with the same perfect oval face and large brown eyes. We chatted non-stop all the way to her home at Alaknanda, trying hard to squeeze all the years that lay between us since we last met into the 45-minute ride. We threw a multitude of questions at each other — work, life, kids — and reminisced.

It was only as the car gently slid to a stop, I realised that she had not shared much information about herself. In my usual way, I had talked thirteen to a dozen with very little prompting. “How many kids do you have?” I asked. She took a deep breath and shifted in her seat then faced me. “I don’t have any children,” she said.

“I’ve had three abortions. They were all girls and my husband insisted on a boy first.” Suddenly the thundering skies and the relentless drone of the rain faded, the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears silenced all. “But how? What?” I spluttered. “That’s life,” she replied. “Why didn’t you leave?” I asked. She smiled wryly. “Leave? That’s not possible. My father’s dead. My sisters are still unmarried, my mother’s unwell. Who will marry girls whose sister is divorced?” she countered. Still, I insisted, “You work… they could work too.”

“Stop crying,” she said, wiping tears I hadn’t noticed were falling. “Ajay’s not that bad. He supports us all.” Still disbelieving I said, “You don’t need to live like this. Let me help! Come stay with me. We’ll work something out… ” My voice sounded like the feeble knocking of a moth against a lamp.

“Thank you for the ride,” Maya replied. “It was good seeing you.” I sat there in the car, tears falling like no rain ever could. Where were the guarantees of this lifetime? Who said that a good education, background, and basic human goodness would insure you a good life? There are none. Life is circumstantial. Life is often unfair. Lennon was right: Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.

Feroze Gujral is a fashion personality and a businesswoman