The first Sunday of the New Year!  What an electrifying day after the sensual late last night dance party we had at Air Force Station Subroto Park. One look at Whatsapp (a mandatory routine for humans these days) made me rub my eyes harder. Fifty-eight messages! I rubbed my eyes a little more. The kajal that I had not wiped out yester night before hitting the bed, spread lusciously over to my cheek bones marring my face but clearing my vision. Apart from the regular Happy New Year wishes there was this long conversation in my school group. I skipped all the lines and reached my sleepy eyes on to the last one.  ‘Meeting venue Ardor, the posh restaurant in Connaught Place had been arranged.’ One of my classmates had come to India after a long gap and our group of ten Delhi girls had decided to hang out over lunch. I hurried for the shower.

I came out dressed in a tight fitted tiger skin patterned dress and knee length boots, I announced to my hubby, “I am leaving for a get together with friends”. “How will you go?” he asked.  “My car obviously,” I replied straight. “You better get used to travelling in the Metro train now as tomorrow is January 4 and both our cars are odd numbered,” he explained. “You expect me to travel in a public transport wearing such an attire?” I screamed. “Big deal? Change into your jeans.” He spoke ignoring my irritation. 

“Well today I am taking my car for sure. It’s a Sunday so no rules, thank God. For office, please enrol me with that ‘Blah Blah Car Pool Services’ that will help us finding commuters with even number cars”. Before I could leap out of the house he had put on the laptop, googled the Blah Blah site and had put my name for the car sharing services. “I just hope I don’t get a commuter who is obese; I am not skinny so how will I sit comfortably for two hour plus ride with such a person” I spoke animatedly acting out my discomfort. My hubby laughed and said, “Hopefully the Blah Blah will match the sizes of the commuters”     

Each of us (over 40 plus) nine ladies looked exquisite as we hugged each other at the rendezvous. “Girls order the drinks and food please,” Malini the foodie amongst our group announced. Jayanti, the heavy-bosomed Bengali lady said, “I can’t survive without chicken and coke”. “No wonder you have those thunder thighs.” Pratibha nudged perkily. “Pepper fry, oil less chicken for me,” soft spoken Nidhi ordered. “I have to begin dieting from today onwards so nothing for me.” I exclaimed dramatically. Lata turned towards me and asked, “Aaloka is that your New Year resolution?” “No! It’s not. It’s for the Odd- Even resolution. I have to fit into the car sharing scheme from tomorrow.” I sounded grim perceptibly.

The Virgin Mojitos had arrived; after a loud cheer we began sipping the drinks. The conversation drifted from school gossips to the nasty teachers then to neighbouring boys’ school and then finally to the hectic life each of us claimed to be leading in Delhi which mainly comprised of driving through heavy traffic.

The mobile in my purse buzzed. My hubby was on line. I clearly got irritated but I smile and press the Answer button. “Listen reach home by 4 p.m. sharp. The Blah Blah could locate a single Even Number car owned by some Mr. Santo Jyoti who commutes on the same route as yours. He is coming down to our house to meet you to have a word. So be there”.

The ladies turned to look at my face as the contours on it changed many shades of grey. “What’s it?” Neelakshi asked curiously. “I have to reach home.” I spoke flatly. “All okay Aaloka?” the ladies asked in unison with concern in their voices. “Some guy is coming to meet me. We have to share our cars for office tomorrow onwards.” I said in low tone. “Wow Aaloka you are having a date?”  Malini spoke with a wink. I turned at least two shades of pink. Not because my friends were looking at me that way but for the mere fact that in my forties, I have to meet this bizarre named man in my house in front of my husband and have to wait for acceptance of this alliance which will run for fifteen days.

As expected, I got stuck in traffic.  Surely that Santo (sounds like a car brand himself) would have reached home and I could imagine my hubby’s peeved face that he makes when he runs out of sentences to carry the conversation with strangers. I knew I had no time to change into something less enticing so I prayed that the guy with whom I was supposed to share my leg room for fifteen days should be damn handsome at least.

I pressed the door bell and the man of my house leaped to receive me. “Mr. Santo is here and he has been waiting since some time,” my hubby spoke with clenched teeth. I didn’t say a word and entered the house. As I sat opposite that Santo character, I tried pulling my dress down to my knees. My hubby kept staring at my knees in turn. “Hello ma’am, I am Santo. My office is next to your office in Gurgaon, as sir has just defined.” I looked up at him. He wasn’t very old or ugly. In fact he was decent looking. Dressed in a round-neck T-shirt and blue denims, he looked a man with his manners intact. I looked at my hubby. Did he have choice to say ‘No’ to this uncomfortable convenience. “Mr. Santo, my wife does not drive this long distance of two hours from Noida to Gurgaon so we have a driver and it gives me a feeling of safety for her too.” My hubby spoke with sophistication. “I agree sir,” Santo replied politely. “So on the Even days, my wife will accompany you in your car and on Odd days, my driver will ferry you and my wife to your respective places. I could see a ray of relaxation on my hubby’s face as he gave out his ruling for commuting. I could easily understand he calculated that only for six days I will be alone in the car with this nearly handsome stranger. “Sir I would prefer to drive your vehicle if you don’t mind. It would be a waste for you to pay your driver during this period. “Don’t worry Mr. Santo; we don’t mind paying him. He is our permanent driver,” my hubby immediately cut into his (obscene) suggestion.

 My hubby stared at the gentleman’s face for a while and suddenly popped, “Are you married?” Mr. Santo sat upright and replied, “Sir I am married. My wife will speak to ma’am. It won’t be such a difficult coalition”. My husband looked a bit relaxed or maybe I thought so.

After Mr. Santo bid us bye, my hubby rattled out a list of DOs and DONTs which I guess he prepared all through the while we three sat in the room contemplating the inevitable.

The next day was Monday, 4^th January. Santo arrived in his Hyundai Accent which had an even number plate. My hubby deliberately opted to take the second charted bus to his office as he wanted to wave me bye. Will hubby’s bye will convince Santo that we are ‘oh so madly in love married senior couple? I doubted he didn’t understand my hubby’s antics.

The two hour journey was pretty long. Usually with the driver behind the wheels, I used to catch up with my much needed one of the three ‘S’ things that I am deprived of in this era – sex, smile and sleep! I got my sleep everyday but today I knew I wouldn’t be doing that.  Not because I feared Santo would take advantage of it but for the fact that under the sexy lady avatar was the actual forty plus woman with her baggage of system errors in her body. I snored! That would be atrocious. I decided to keep my eyes open. The gears changed and I felt (or imagined) that my right thigh was brushed. I expected a sorry form Santo but he continued his focus on the road.

I thought I should start a conversation. I am very good at it. My hubby had warned me not to have casual chat with Santo as one of the DONTs. As per my hubby my talks are addictive. I kept mum. I wanted to slump in my seat. I tried spreading my legs and reclining backwards. I immediately got reminded of another DON’T my hubby had listed. ‘Sit upright or else your figure will distract Santo.’ I pulled myself up.

The next day was Odd day and my two hour ordeal began sharp at 8 a.m. as my driver swirled my Honda City in front of Santo’s residence. The wife came out to bid bye to her hubby. No she wasn’t looking at him. She was actually staring at me particularly assessing my thigh size. She gave some looks to her hubby and muttered something as he opened the rear right side door of my car to slip next to me. I strained my ears to listen to her muttering. I could only hear the word ‘leg room’.

As my driver started off in the fifth gear, I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question that bugged me since last twenty minutes. “What did your wife mean by ‘leg Rroom’? My car is not a small one. It’s as big as yours then why did she say that?” I was clearly upset thinking the wife has put me on a lower pedestal.

Santo didn’t want to reply. He kept mum. I prodded him again. “It’s one of the DOs and DONTs my wife had listed for me and one was this that since I am sharing leg room with you while sitting in the rear, I should take care of sticking to that of mine.” He spoke gentlemanly. “You are sticking to yours. Where’s the doubt? Still your wife had to remind you. She seems a control freak.” I did not like the rule being read out to me.

Santo was clearly getting miffed by my rising anger. He didn’t want the driver to think otherwise. He tried to cool me down, “Actually my wife didn’t mean anything about your car.”

“Then what did she mean by it?”I snapped.

Very sheepishly he pointed his finger down. I took it as though he was trying to point out my broad thighs. For a minute I considered to bark at him for being rude to a lady by pointing at her thigh or shall I feel offended that he was trying to tell me that I was intending to seduce him by my expanded girth. I chose to stare at him with fiery eyes.

He looked into my eyes and said, “Ma’am actually I suffer from urinary bladder dysfunction. If I don’t get to sit relaxed for more than an hour, my bladder gets compressed and then I can’t hold myself. By saying ‘leg room’, my wife reminded me that I need not feel so shy in sitting relaxed with you in the rear seat even though it may end up in touching my thigh with that of yours. She had prescribed ‘leg room’ as code word so that I don’t end up peeing in your car. It would be embarrassing.

I stared at my spread out thighs in shame, pulled them in instantly. It wasn’t just my car when I am sharing it with a fellow commuter. He has an equal right to travel with dignity how so ever it may be Odd or Even.