Chapter 3

Chapter Two

The temperature in Delhi embarks on its relentless ascent. The parched earth and shimmering roads bear witness to the scorching days that stretch endlessly.

Simmering in perspiration, Aman called Azaan for the third time in a row. "The person you are trying to speak to is not answering the call; please call back in some time. Aap jis vyakti..."

"Where the heck is this Idiot?" Pocketing his phone and swearing under his breath, Aman opened the door to the reading room. The chilled air from the air-conditioner hit his face like a cold embrace as he stood arrested for a second to cure the ire of the summer heat on his body.

"Aman Bhai!" shouted Azaan from the right corner of the hall. Dozens of furious eyes sought the voice to reprimand the lunatic who dared to disturb the hushed reverence hitherto maintained.

Sensing numerous eyes burning holes at his countenance, Aman, with embarrassment tingling in every step, walked towards Azaan, who slightly nodded at the glaring people with a sheepish smile.

"You Ass!" whisper yelled Aman.

"It's Azz with a Zee, bro, not ass," whispered Azaan with a playful grin.

"Why didn't you pick up your call, you Azzhole?"

Azaan, in disbelief, raised himself a bit to retrieve his phone tucked away in his back pocket. "The phone was on silent, hehe"

With an eye roll directed at Azaan, who looked positively unperturbed, Aman inquired, "Where is Arnav?"

"In Hell!" interjected a furious female voice. "Have you considered the inconvenience your conversation might be causing to other students in here? Do you not understand the decorum that should be maintained in a reading room?" blasted a 'still running high on caffeine' Khushi. Rendered speechless by the embodiment of a Virago, the duo gaped foolishly at Khushi.

"Sorry, excuse us," Aman breathed almost imperceptibly as he rose from the seat, nudging a willing Azaan by his bicep to head to the door.

"Getting told off by a pretty girl was not on my agenda for the day," muttered a scowling Aman.

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Union Office

Come out here where the roses have opened. Let soul and world meet.

The sun has drawn a fine tempered blade of light. We may as well surrender.

Laugh at the ugly arrogance you see. Weep for those separated from the friend.

The city seethes with rumor. Some madman has escaped the prison.

Or is a revolution beginning? What day is it?

Is this when all we have done and been will be publicly known?

With no thinking and no emotion, with no ideas about the soul, and no language, these drums are saying how empty we are.

As Arnav immersed himself in the exquisite verses of Rumi, he reclined halfway on the armchair, caught between sitting and lying down. In the confines of the ancient building, the weathered stone walls stood as a stalwart shield against the scorching summer sun, whispering stories of centuries past and offering a sanctuary of cool respite. The high, arched windows were draped with heavy, dusty curtains that filtered the harsh sunlight into a gentle, dappled glow casting patterns of tranquility across the room.

"Arnav! You are here? Why bother carrying a phone when no one in your family uses them for their intended purpose?"

"Now, Azaan, what have you done this time? When will you learn to keep up the name of our family? Is he accusing us of being traditionalists?" Arnav quipped, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Arrey Bhaijaan! Aman Bhai just received a wrathful sermon from a lady. He is just pissed about it." added Azaan teasingly.

"Well, well, Aman! Whose day did you ruin? I'm not even bothering to ask what calamity you've caused; I'm just assuming it's your standard operating procedure."

"Arnav! you have no idea! She gave me a dressing down for speaking in the reading room. I agree, it was my fault. But, she didn't have to be that rude yaar. Could have politely asked me to shut up and I would have remained so for the next two - three business days. By the way, who is she? Never seen her around."

"Khushi Gupta. Our favourite party's favourite leader's favourite daughter!"

Noticing the puzzled expression on the duo's faces, Azaan took it upon himself to enlighten his mates. "She is Shashi Gupta's daughter."

"I take it back! It was not my fault. That girl was insane. We were only whispering. Also, for a guy who barely talks to girls, you seem to possess an awfully impressive dossier, Azaan,"Aman completed in one breath.

Arnav collected his books from the table and got ready to leave. The earlier enthusiasm dimmed in his countenance as he reached for the keys. Sensing the reason behind his change in demeanor, Aman and Azaan tactfully steered the conversation in a different direction as they left the cabin, ensuring to lock it securely behind them.

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Students' Canteen

"O God! There sits the she devil." Azaan murmured as he spotted Khushi sitting with two other girls. "Don't look," added Azaan hastily.

Aman and Arnav instinctively shifted their attention to the same spot where Azaan had just been looking.

Khushi, who has been waiting impatiently for her food, immediately recognized the two gentlemen she had seen in the reading room earlier. However, the third newcomer seemed to hold his gaze for just a fraction longer than the other two, and she couldn't help but detect a glimmer of something more than surprise in his expression-perhaps a hint of anger? She observed him as he strolled over to the canteen manager and place his order, never once glancing in her direction.

"That was intense. Did his friends go crying to him or what?" Khushi pondered. However, she couldn't deny the fact that, perhaps, he was the most strikingly handsome man she had ever beheld. The unkept beard framed his face with just the right amount of rugged masculinity; his confident demeanor completed the picture of a man who effortlessly commanded attention. And the eyes were made of the most beautiful hues of brown, she noted, as they shimmered under the golden rays of evening sun.

"Well," she mused to herself, "that's a compliment he'll never hear."

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Thank you for reading.

Please let me know if you are interested in reading further as your words motivate me to write.

I would love to hear your thoughts on the characters as well.

Love,

Dorothea.