InkAndStories

Anvi’s eyes darted down the road, anxiety growing with each passing second. She was already twenty minutes late. Two buses had already come and gone, each crammed to the brim with passengers hanging precariously from the footboards, leaving no room for anyone else. She bit her lip. An auto would be faster, but she couldn’t justify the extra money today. Five more minutes crawled by until, finally, the 401R bus lumbered into view, still crowded but at least with a bit of breathing room. She made a dash, boarding with a quick flash of her bus pass. Inside, she found herself pressed between a mother clutching her toddler and a group of students loudly sharing jokes. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling the jostle of people trying to make space, elbows nudging her side and shoulders brushing past her. The air was thick with the mixed scents of perfume, sweat, and street food from nearby stalls. But Anvi held her ground, clutching the metal railing as the bus lurched forward, her ...

Abhay drummed his fingers against the worn wooden tabletop at Auroville Café, a cozy, tucked-away spot in Bengaluru with warm lighting and the smell of freshly ground coffee lingering in the air. His mother had orchestrated this meeting with yet another girl she thought would be perfect for him, and he was more than ready to politely reject and move on. But this time felt different somehow—she hadn’t shown him a picture or dropped any hints, leaving him with a strange mix of irritation and curiosity he couldn’t shake. It was already past 5, and they were supposed to meet at 4:30. Usually, he took his time, knowing the girls his mother arranged would be waiting. But today, as the minutes dragged on, he found himself uncharacteristically on edge. Just as he was about to leave, he heard a soft voice call out his name. “Abhay Rao…?” He turned around, irritation simmering—only to feel it vanish instantly as he met the gaze of a woman with striking grey eyes. For a moment, he fou...