Put those newspapers aside, lie back and think of Punjab. Of star-crossed love. Of the great difficulties of just meeting. A ride in the boot of a car could not have been comfortable, and we can only hope that the end was rewarding. But it was never to be: the princess and the commoner, the very rich and merely the upper middle class, the Christian and the Muslim, the British and the Pakistani, those different worlds, differing fates. Society prevails, tragedy strikes. And these things take a touch of the Chenab. As you come towards Haryana you will find excellent tractors but very little romance.