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I never watched ‘Masaan’ till completion. The hotel scene and the subsequent scenes depicting the horrors Devi faced gave me chills I could not shake off.

At 2 in the afternoon, when he’d just dozed off, I lay there warm under the blankets, alone with my thoughts.

“So far, so good,” I thought. Could I stop thinking about the cops? No. I was half expecting and half afraid the cops would come barging in at any moment.

Stop worrying. StayUncle is safe. I’m trying to. Think about something else. Okay. . The room has great lights. Would make some amazing photos. .

Did someone just knock on the door? What’s that noise? Is the doorknob turning?

No, just my imagination. Right? That train of thought never stops. Monstrous people and outrageous ideas are a constant danger.

I often wished I was born in a different time. I imagined yelling at my mother:

Sex is fine. A stork didn’t drop me on your head. Grow up!

But you don’t yell at your parents.

You don’t talk about sex.

Good girls listen to their elders. Good girls wait till marriage. You need to treat every person you’ve ever met to a scrumptious feast to obtain the license to have sex. 12 noon-1 p.m., they air F.R.I.E.N.D.S on Comedy Central.

This was the first time I had watched TV with him. We’d laughed so hard at Chandler’s lines.

He likes Ross and Rachel best. I disagree.

There was quite the debate. I’m almost tempted to wake him up and tell him Monica and Chandler are lot funnier and more steadfast.

I turned very slowly so as to not wake him up and looked up at the ceiling. I wondered if there was a hidden camera somewhere in the room. I’d already checked once, but I could have missed.

“Oh, well,” I thought, “If we’re being taped, then so be it.” I was tired of worrying.

We’d been together for nearly four years now. High school teachers, parents, parents of friends, tutors, everyone meddled in my private life, everyone made it their business. Turning 18 was barely a relief.

When you’re a girl, you never grow up, you’re always a liability. This was the first time I was seeing him sleep. He was never relaxed enough to drift off before now.

I turned to look at him. Mouth slightly open, breathing so lightly you could almost mistake him for dead.

Wouldn’t be a bad way to die, I thought, stretched out beside the one he supposedly loved after two orgasms.

The light shined brilliantly on his face, and the white sheet up to his chest, the perfect picture. I had insisted on keeping the lights on; pitch black wasn’t my thing. The dread had left me without my realizing it.

As I stared at him, sleeping, I realized I was happy and content.

I was also safe.

This must be what it’ll be like when we get a house together.

This whole day felt like a borrowed moment from a happier future. All that was missing was a truckload of pets.

His head had been resting on his hand. It slid forward and touched the pillow and his head hit the pillow at the same moment. It woke him up. “The cops came calling while you were snoozing away. They’re waiting outside.”

“Hmm, funny,” he answered groggily, pulled me closer and was asleep in a moment.

I half smiled. So far, so good.