“What’s the key to a woman’s heart?” This isn’t a question. It is a quest. A quest for a trove of loot, buried beneath the core of a woman’s heart, called love. Nobody, particularly a guy can never understand what lies at this abysmal depths of a woman’s mind. So, how would you conquer this impregnable nadir?

Even as the entire city of Hyderabad plunges into deep sleep as the stars awake themselves under the cover of the tentative moon, a new generation of party animals, street racers rule the midnight roads.

Of course, I don’t belong to that sect, but there was this day when I really felt I was challenged. First things first. I hate women when it comes to driving. A few days back, a woman was shifting lanes, meandering like a snake. Of course, I too do it, but atleast, I check if someone is behind or beside me through the side view mirrors and flashing proper indicators. I was about to overtake her car, when she almost rammed into mine.

Why do guys speed their vehicles? To impress girls? To register yourself in her eyes as she sees you speed along? I normally drive past a woman to show her where she stands. Male chauvinism. You can very well say that.

“I love to drive on Saturday nights. The cool wind that lashes your face, the near empty roads that teases you to drive faster, and more particularly when women don’t drive,” I was talking to my friend over the phone when I saw a Suzuki Swift vroom past me. There is a small gland located behind the kidneys, which pumps in more adrenaline and your heart starts to pound and that’s when you decide to race.

“I’ll call you later,” I hung the call and looked at the speedometer. I was doing a decent 45kmph in the top gear. I buckled up the seat belt and engaged the clutch, shifting to one gear lower and disengaged the clutch when I looked at the tachometer, as the revs shot up from 2 to 5 in four seconds flat and my car raced to 70KMPH in no time.

The Swift must be doing a 100kmph as I saw the distance between mine and hers increase. Forgot to mention, a She was driving it. And more over Swift looks like a femme figurine from behind. So, it’s a She, driving a She.

Three more seconds and I almost made 100kmph. A couple more and I made 120 already, still in my fourth gear. I was slowly catching upon her. She must have been driving at 100 odd as I guessed it.

We have reached the KBR park road at the Jubilee hills check post towards TDP office. It’s a four lane road. And at this time, except for street racers and curious onlookers, these roads are otherwise deserted.

Even the street racing doesn’t happen in tandem. It’s like a wave when two or three cars zoom almost parallel and another wave hits, after 2-3 minutes. Perhaps this is some sort of code, that’s followed to reduce the risk of accidents.

I saw Her right ahead of me when I swerved the wheel and the next moment, I was driving parallel to her. The indicator on the speedometer slowly started to drop as I wanted to peek at her. Our two cars raced side by side for almost 5 seconds when I felt she was stepping on the gas. Still in the fourth gear, I pressed the accelerator and the indicator effortlessly climbed to 120kmph from 100kmph in three seconds flat and whizzed past her. She must have had her jaws dropped. I patted myself for the good work before I glanced at the rear view mirror.

She was catching upon me slowly from behind. I had to slow down at the TDP office as I had to move to the left. And she’s taken advantage of this when she impressed me with the way she moved ahead of my vehicle. I guess she’s tantalizing me.

The road is again a four lane road with a decent decline. You can even see vehicles half a mile ahead of you. She was accelerating faster than my Getz. Probably at 130kmph. With a little exertion, my car moved into the same slot when the engine started rattling. I shifted to the top gear and the declivity offered me an effortless ease to 140kmph.

A few meters ahead of me, I saw the tail lights, glowing like red ambers, of a Skoda Octavia and a Lancer Cedia moving similitudinously, which separated me from Her. They themselves were racing down the road at nearly 130kmph.

And I thought I was losing her as she slowly sped down the lane, away from me. I swung the wheel and I almost came close to the pavement on the left when I overtook them after my tyre almost grazed the pavement. A few more inches and I would have been doing a Hollywood stunt, but my lucky stars averted the disaster.

And when you race at this speed, you wouldn’t even be bothered as to what will happen to you. You just keep going and going.

Again, I was almost parallel to her when I decided to finish this once and for all. I gripped my fingers onto the steering wheel and my car raced to a whopping 150kmph and I almost buzzed past her thinking, I got to see the look on her face man, now.

And as I approached the Brand factory outlet, I could faintly see the blinking amber from a traffic signal a few meters ahead of us. Driving at these speeds and that too at the junctions can be dangerous for either parties.

I looked at her car. It was still throttling at full speed alongside my car. “There you go, baby. You win,” when I suddenly applied brakes and my car screeched as I pulled over to the extreme left and she dashed off.

And I started to drive at a normal pace for half a km before I saw the blinking parking lights off her car and I pulled over near to her car.

“Why did you slow down. You could have done it very easily,” she shouted as she approached my car.

“You were driving great. Better than me, better than most guys. You deserved to win. I thought it was getting more and more dangerous and so I quit,” I replied.

“But I am impressed with your drive, though! The way you overtook my car and the way you sped away,” and she came close enough to my car.

The two cars were parked to the extreme left. And I got down from my car. She held my hands and placed them on her curvaceous body as she sat on the front hood of my car.

“You impressed me,” she said and I smiled. If a girl ever says that she’s impressed, beyond doubt that’s an ever lasting impression.

“Let’s get home,” I led her to her car and I opened the door and said, “Please, Queen” gesturing her to get inside. She had this smile on her face with those beautiful cheeks turning pink at her cheekbones as she got into the Swift. Impressing her again. And she lowered the power window. I kissed her on her cheek.

“Drive home carefully, babe, I will follow you,” I said and kinda warned, “And no 150’s again. For my sake”

“I love you,” she replied with that Cinderella look on her face.

“I love you too, Nisha” I reciprocated.

And she slowly drove along as I danced and jumped in joy on the empty roads witnessed by the moon and perhaps her, who must have been watching me on her rear view mirror.

The key to a woman’s heart lies in impressing her. Not for once or twice. Impress her. Impress her, over and over. Impress her even if it means driving at breakneck 150kmph but it really pays.