22-06-2025, 01:15 AM
A Corner of Stillness Amid Campus Chaos
Abhi followed the pin through tiled corridors, past echoing staircases and rustling trees.
He found her under a low bougainvillea arch near the law block, sitting on a wide bench with her phone beside her and a large brown envelope on her lap.
She looked up when he approached, eyes half-lidded from the midday light. “You came fast.”
“Turns out I’m very obedient,” he said.
“I like that,” she replied without missing a beat, then patted the empty space beside her.
He sat, close but not too close. The air between them was still warm from the ride, the quiet brushes of contact lingering like static.
“You okay?” he asked, nodding at the envelope.
She looked down. “It’s my provisional certificate and transcripts. I’m applying to a few places abroad. Thought I’d wrap this up in one go, but…” she trailed off, her fingers idly picking at the paper’s edges.
“You’re planning to leave?”
“Not soon. But maybe in a year or so. Depends on a lot of things.”
She didn’t explain what those “things” were. He didn’t ask.
Instead, she turned to him. “Honestly, I didn’t think today would be… fun. But it is.”
“Because of the scooter?” he teased.
“No,” she said, serious now. “Because of you.”
Her voice was soft. Measured. And it landed between them with a quiet weight.
They sat in silence for a moment—an unusually peaceful kind of silence for a university campus filled with distant chatter and scooter horns.
Then Varnika looked at her phone and winced. “Still time. You hungry?”
“A little.”
“There’s a café across the road—less like a college mess, more like actual food. We can go. They’ll text me when I need to return.”
---
Abhi followed the pin through tiled corridors, past echoing staircases and rustling trees.
He found her under a low bougainvillea arch near the law block, sitting on a wide bench with her phone beside her and a large brown envelope on her lap.
She looked up when he approached, eyes half-lidded from the midday light. “You came fast.”
“Turns out I’m very obedient,” he said.
“I like that,” she replied without missing a beat, then patted the empty space beside her.
He sat, close but not too close. The air between them was still warm from the ride, the quiet brushes of contact lingering like static.
“You okay?” he asked, nodding at the envelope.
She looked down. “It’s my provisional certificate and transcripts. I’m applying to a few places abroad. Thought I’d wrap this up in one go, but…” she trailed off, her fingers idly picking at the paper’s edges.
“You’re planning to leave?”
“Not soon. But maybe in a year or so. Depends on a lot of things.”
She didn’t explain what those “things” were. He didn’t ask.
Instead, she turned to him. “Honestly, I didn’t think today would be… fun. But it is.”
“Because of the scooter?” he teased.
“No,” she said, serious now. “Because of you.”
Her voice was soft. Measured. And it landed between them with a quiet weight.
They sat in silence for a moment—an unusually peaceful kind of silence for a university campus filled with distant chatter and scooter horns.
Then Varnika looked at her phone and winced. “Still time. You hungry?”
“A little.”
“There’s a café across the road—less like a college mess, more like actual food. We can go. They’ll text me when I need to return.”
---
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