05-08-2025, 12:50 AM
(This post was last modified: 16-08-2025, 04:18 PM by nivithenaughty. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 5: Electric Air
The office hummed with its usual rhythm on Nivi’s fourth day, the clatter of keyboards mixing with the faint drone of ceiling fans. Her black kurti felt cool against her skin, the fabric loose but flattering as she moved through Coimbatore’s sticky morning heat.
Outside, the city pulsed—street vendors shouted about ripe mangoes, and the distant chime of a temple bell carried on the breeze. Nivi settled at her desk, diving into a pile of expense reports, but a quiet restlessness stirred. The office was her escape from home’s weight—Anand’s late nights, the unpaid bills stacked by the fridge—but today, her mind felt heavier, her smile a little harder to hold.
At the tea station, the gang was in high spirits, their voices cutting through the morning haze. Ashwin leaned against the counter, gesturing wildly about a cricket match. “That catch was impossible! My kid could’ve done better,” he said, grinning.
Dinesh snorted, stirring his chai. “Your kid’s got better hand-eye coordination than you, Ashwin.” He glanced at Nivi as she approached, handing her a tumbler. “You’re quiet today, Nivi. Kids tire you out?”
Ashok, sipping his tea in the corner, looked up, his eyes soft but curious. “Everything okay?” he asked quietly.
She forced a smile, the warmth of the chai grounding her. “Just a long morning.
The boys decided 5 a.m. was playtime.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. The gang laughed, Ashwin launching into a story about his daughter’s midnight tantrums, but Nivi felt Ashok’s gaze linger a moment longer, like he saw through her.
As she reached for a biscuit, her sleeve caught on the tin, tugging her kurti slightly to show a hint of her collarbone. She adjusted it fast, but Dinesh’s quick glance and Ashwin’s paused chuckle made her heart skip. They’re noticing me more, she thought, a flicker of curiosity sparking. Not as one of the boys, but… something else.
By afternoon, the office felt stifling, and Nivi’s mood hadn’t lifted. She caught Ashwin alone near the printer, grabbing a stack of files. “You really okay?” he asked, his usual grin softening. “You seem off.”
She hesitated, then let a piece of the truth slip. “Home’s been tough. Anand’s always working late, stressed about money. It’s like I’m handling everything alone—kids, house, all of it.” Her voice was low, her fingers tightening on the files.
Ashwin’s face softened, his hand hovering like he wanted to pat her shoulder but didn’t. “That’s rough, Nivi. You’re not alone here, you know. We’ve got your back.” His sincerity warmed her, easing the knot in her chest. “Lean on us when you need.”
“Thanks,” she said, a small smile breaking through. The moment felt raw, like she’d peeled back a layer, and the care in his eyes stirred something—a quiet thrill of being seen, not just as the old Nivi but as someone carrying weight.
To shake off the day’s heaviness, Dinesh suggested an outing at lunch. “Let’s hit that chai stall by the market after work,” he said, eyes bright. “Best masala tea in Coimbatore. We need to unwind, and Nivi needs a break.”
Ashok nodded, a rare spark in his voice. “I’m in.”
“Count me in,” Nivi said, the idea lifting her spirits. After the office clocked out, they walked through the bustling evening streets, the air thick with the sizzle of pakoras frying and the chatter of vendors haggling over bananas. The chai stall was a small, crowded spot, its steel counter gleaming under a single bulb. They squeezed onto a bench, the scent of ginger and cardamom wrapping them as the vendor poured steaming tea into glass tumblers.
Ashwin raised his glass. “To Nivi’s return—and to surviving her kids’ chaos!” They clinked glasses, laughing, and Nivi felt the weight lift further. Dinesh shared a story about his wife burning a dosa to a crisp, while Ashok, loosening up, admitted he’d started reading detective novels. “Keeps me up too late,” he said, blushing when Nivi teased him about it.
As she laughed, her dupatta slipped slightly, catching on the bench and baring a bit of her shoulder. She fixed it, but not before Ashok’s eyes flicked there, his cheeks reddening.
The moment was fleeting, but it added to her growing awareness—they were seeing her differently, their glances quick but not as casual as before. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just… intriguing. She sipped her chai, the spice warming her throat, and let the thought simmer.
Back home, as she helped the boys with dinner, her mother-in-law caught her smile. “You look lighter, dear,” she said, stirring a pot of rasam. “Work’s doing you good.”
Nivi nodded, the evening’s warmth lingering. “It’s the people,” she said softly. The gang’s support, Ashwin’s kind words, those subtle looks—they were small, but they made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t in years.
In bed, Anand’s snores filled the silence, but her mind was on the office, on the way Ashok’s shy gaze had held hers. What’s changing? she wondered, the curiosity growing as she drifted to sleep, the city’s distant hum a quiet echo of her pulse.
Continues....
The office hummed with its usual rhythm on Nivi’s fourth day, the clatter of keyboards mixing with the faint drone of ceiling fans. Her black kurti felt cool against her skin, the fabric loose but flattering as she moved through Coimbatore’s sticky morning heat.
Outside, the city pulsed—street vendors shouted about ripe mangoes, and the distant chime of a temple bell carried on the breeze. Nivi settled at her desk, diving into a pile of expense reports, but a quiet restlessness stirred. The office was her escape from home’s weight—Anand’s late nights, the unpaid bills stacked by the fridge—but today, her mind felt heavier, her smile a little harder to hold.
At the tea station, the gang was in high spirits, their voices cutting through the morning haze. Ashwin leaned against the counter, gesturing wildly about a cricket match. “That catch was impossible! My kid could’ve done better,” he said, grinning.
Dinesh snorted, stirring his chai. “Your kid’s got better hand-eye coordination than you, Ashwin.” He glanced at Nivi as she approached, handing her a tumbler. “You’re quiet today, Nivi. Kids tire you out?”
Ashok, sipping his tea in the corner, looked up, his eyes soft but curious. “Everything okay?” he asked quietly.
She forced a smile, the warmth of the chai grounding her. “Just a long morning.
The boys decided 5 a.m. was playtime.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. The gang laughed, Ashwin launching into a story about his daughter’s midnight tantrums, but Nivi felt Ashok’s gaze linger a moment longer, like he saw through her.
As she reached for a biscuit, her sleeve caught on the tin, tugging her kurti slightly to show a hint of her collarbone. She adjusted it fast, but Dinesh’s quick glance and Ashwin’s paused chuckle made her heart skip. They’re noticing me more, she thought, a flicker of curiosity sparking. Not as one of the boys, but… something else.
By afternoon, the office felt stifling, and Nivi’s mood hadn’t lifted. She caught Ashwin alone near the printer, grabbing a stack of files. “You really okay?” he asked, his usual grin softening. “You seem off.”
She hesitated, then let a piece of the truth slip. “Home’s been tough. Anand’s always working late, stressed about money. It’s like I’m handling everything alone—kids, house, all of it.” Her voice was low, her fingers tightening on the files.
Ashwin’s face softened, his hand hovering like he wanted to pat her shoulder but didn’t. “That’s rough, Nivi. You’re not alone here, you know. We’ve got your back.” His sincerity warmed her, easing the knot in her chest. “Lean on us when you need.”
“Thanks,” she said, a small smile breaking through. The moment felt raw, like she’d peeled back a layer, and the care in his eyes stirred something—a quiet thrill of being seen, not just as the old Nivi but as someone carrying weight.
To shake off the day’s heaviness, Dinesh suggested an outing at lunch. “Let’s hit that chai stall by the market after work,” he said, eyes bright. “Best masala tea in Coimbatore. We need to unwind, and Nivi needs a break.”
Ashok nodded, a rare spark in his voice. “I’m in.”
“Count me in,” Nivi said, the idea lifting her spirits. After the office clocked out, they walked through the bustling evening streets, the air thick with the sizzle of pakoras frying and the chatter of vendors haggling over bananas. The chai stall was a small, crowded spot, its steel counter gleaming under a single bulb. They squeezed onto a bench, the scent of ginger and cardamom wrapping them as the vendor poured steaming tea into glass tumblers.
Ashwin raised his glass. “To Nivi’s return—and to surviving her kids’ chaos!” They clinked glasses, laughing, and Nivi felt the weight lift further. Dinesh shared a story about his wife burning a dosa to a crisp, while Ashok, loosening up, admitted he’d started reading detective novels. “Keeps me up too late,” he said, blushing when Nivi teased him about it.
As she laughed, her dupatta slipped slightly, catching on the bench and baring a bit of her shoulder. She fixed it, but not before Ashok’s eyes flicked there, his cheeks reddening.
The moment was fleeting, but it added to her growing awareness—they were seeing her differently, their glances quick but not as casual as before. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just… intriguing. She sipped her chai, the spice warming her throat, and let the thought simmer.
Back home, as she helped the boys with dinner, her mother-in-law caught her smile. “You look lighter, dear,” she said, stirring a pot of rasam. “Work’s doing you good.”
Nivi nodded, the evening’s warmth lingering. “It’s the people,” she said softly. The gang’s support, Ashwin’s kind words, those subtle looks—they were small, but they made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t in years.
In bed, Anand’s snores filled the silence, but her mind was on the office, on the way Ashok’s shy gaze had held hers. What’s changing? she wondered, the curiosity growing as she drifted to sleep, the city’s distant hum a quiet echo of her pulse.
Continues....
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