Characters:
Jameel (52): A seasoned rickshaw driver who has served Yamini's family with unflinching loyalty for over a decade. He was a young man working to make a living, he has aged under the relentless sun, his skin darkened and glistening with sweat as he travel the busy streets in city. He has watched your family rise in status, from a simple house to a big three-story house, and witnessed Yamini's transformation from a shy innocent girl to a breathtaking young woman. Now a husband and father himself, Jameel remains dedicated to his work, the owner's family provided him with wheels of food and shelter so he was able to marry and have a child of his own.
Yamini (20): The only daughter of a conservative household, now in her second year of college. Raised away from the prying eyes of men, she has grown up reserved and soft-spoken, away from outside world and evil intentions of men. She has beautiful eyes, a fair complexion, and a body frame draped in elegant kurtis, sometimes modern outfits or traditional sarees. Since adolescence, she has secretly craved rugged desi men, fearless, bold, and low life men. Unlike the reserved men in her family or college, she is drawn to those who take what they want without hesitation.
Plot:
Every day, Jameel Chacha drives Yamini to college and back, their routine as steady as the ticking of the clock. But on this fateful evening, she isn’t returning from college. She’s coming back from a friend’s wedding, held outside the city. As she nears home, the skies darken, and a furious storm erupts. Rain pours down in relentless sheets, and the winds howl through the streets. Yamini hesitates, glancing at the storm raging outside, but Jameel, ever confident in his skill, assures her that he will get her home safely.
Yamini sat in the rickshaw, still looking as stunning as she did at the wedding. She was wearing a deep-red lehenga, its golden embroidery catching the dim light whenever she moved. Her blouse was short, hugging her snugly, with little sleeves and a scooped neckline that showed just enough to make her look effortlessly elegant. Her dupatta, now a little damp from the humidity, was lazily draped over her shoulders, barely covering her slim waist. The golden chain around her stomach rested lightly on her skin, peeking out whenever the wind played with the fabric. Long earrings brushed against her neck, and her bangles clinked softly every time she adjusted her outfit. She still looked like she belonged in a wedding hall, not stuck in the middle of a storm, rain hammering down all around her. With Jameel’s rickshaw lacking side curtains, strong wind sent droplets of rain spraying inside, wetting the seats and the edges of her lehenga.
As they set off, the storm grows ruthlessly, flooding the streets and causing chaos. Visibility is poor, and the roads fill with pools of rising water. As they approach a main road, a group of drenched pedestrians rushes toward them, waving their hands. One of them shouts, warning Jameel that the bridge ahead has collapsed and the road is completely blocked.
Realizing they must find another way, Jameel quickly turns into a narrow road, hoping to take a shortcut. But the waterlogged paths become dangerous, and with a sudden jerk, one of the rickshaw’s wheels sinks deep into the mud and snaps. Stranded, with the storm growing fiercer, Jameel searches the surroundings and spots an old, abandoned building nearby. With no other option, he suggests they take shelter inside until the storm calms down.
Open to discussion in private.