Hari was walking up the stairs to the eighth floor. He was not an exercise freak but was a victim of a malfunctioning lift. Sometime ago he would pride himself that he was fit, if not muscular. Now he was not muscular and not flabby but had lost his stamina. He was struggling. He leaned against the wall at the 5th floor to catch his breath. But what he saw took his breath away.

A lady in flowing white salwaar kameez and a colorful dupatta, much like the heroine in Mani Ratnam's Geethanjali came down the stairs. She was busy on the phone, chatting with someone telling that she was on her way. As she went down she gave him a familiar glance and went her way.

Behind her followed a little girl, almost an image of the lady and wearing the same kind of dress shouting 'Mummy!'. He smiled to himself. It had been a long time since he had noticed something so beautiful. Not that there was any scarcity, only that he was too caught up in the daily grind.

Soon he got to the meeting he was to attend. Small informal one and finished off his business. As we waited for the guy to give him a few details he had asked, his mind was filled with images.

The stairs, the white dress, the chatter on the phone and the glance all coming back to him.

"Hari...Hari!" said the guy at the desk.

"Sorry ... was thinking of something ... you were saying something?"

He finished his chatter and came back to the lift. Hopefully it was working. He half expected to bump into the girl again. But nothing happened. Only thing that happened was that he was surprised by the change in his mood after seeing that girl. He had progressed from thing of her in terms of 'Lady' to 'Girl'. He boarded the rush hour bus to get home.

Being incompetent with two wheelers and considering the growing rush in Hyderabad, he loved taking the bus instead of his car. He had already bumped his car thrice in the last month. As he got near his stop, he slowly moved to the footboard, holding the bus with one hand and hanging just out of the bus. You were not a Hyderabadi if you did not know this art form.

Then his eye caught something. A flowing colorful dupatta in the auto at the bus stop.

"Ahhhhhhhhh... Shit!" he said as he fell down and rolled over. He had forgotten the one rule of running buses. You need to run after you get off a running bus. You don't stand still. The auto had gone. He was disturbed. He brushed away the dirt and walked home.

Over a coffee he thought about the girl. Flashing in his mind the images again and again. Stairs, dress, dupatta, chatter and smile. The smile, yes he had seen it somewhere. Somewhere in the distant past. There was something about the smile, the way the eyes expressed her smile. He rushed through to his room and pulled out all old photographs. In all he had just 12 photos of his studies since school. And he was sure it was not in school that he saw the smile. Nothing; The photos turned up nothing.

He ransacked his attic and dug up the DVD with all his digital photos and outlook PST files. He sat late into the night looking at all of them. Finally he hit gold; he found that face in an old college photo he had got in an e-mail. Back then she was a bit thin. But the smile was there. But no name; he prided his memory, so he started racking it.

"Sujata.. sunita ..." he thought as he rolled in bed ..."aparna ..??? Ashwini??? .. nah..." he did not know when he slept but he woke up when he found himself dreaming about names. He was walking in a black void and all around him where names, in the kind of 3-d fonts you see in Ad's and he was going to each of them and looking at them, shaking his head. There were more names coming in loads but he did not seem impressed with any that were coming. He smiled to himself as he woke up and sat on his bed. Thoughts occupied him as he brushed and washed and polished his shoes.

"Today must be a great day" his mom said.

"Why?" he asked.

"You are polishing your shoes for the first time since you bought them 2 years ago ... great .. keep it up .." she replied.

He suppressed a laugh. He dashed out of his house to catch the bus. Names rolled in his head. As he got down at his workplace his eyes fell on a billboard.

"Quality coaching or Corporate coaching? You decide ... Vyshnavi Junior College your child's future".

"Eureka!!!!!!" he shouted, and a few strange looks followed. Vyshnavi, that was the name. The last roll number in the class, last because she had joined late. Now new images flashed in his mind, the bubbly talk, the giggles and yeah the great dressing sense.

That evening he went to that building again for another meeting with that guy. The lift was working he got in and as he w as the only guy he pushed the close button, but a hand shot in between and stopped the closing doors.

She walked into the lift. She gave a smile ..."Hari?? right??" she asked ..."Vyshnavi, I remember you ..." "Oh! God you remember my name ... I was thinking yesterday .. where have I seen this guy ... and ..."

They chatted all the way up to the eighth floor, and exchanged numbers after that. She promised to call him later.

For the first time in his life he wished lifts climbed slower.