Echoes After the Rain
The bus moved forward, but Aarushi’s mind stayed behind.
She sat by the window, her fingers tightly holding the sketch Mira had given her. The paper was slightly damp at the edges, like it had absorbed a piece of the rain—and maybe a piece of that moment too.
Two roads.
One umbrella.
One meeting that felt anything but accidental.
She traced the lines softly with her thumb.
“Why does this feel… different?” she whispered to herself.
She had met people before. Talked, smiled, exchanged polite words. But this—this felt like something had brushed past her soul and left fingerprints.
Her phone buzzed.
Mom: Bus miss hoye gelo naki? Eto deri keno?
Aarushi typed back quickly:
Haan, ektu late holo. Aschi.
She leaned her head against the window. Outside, the rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle. Streetlights passed like quiet witnesses, unaware that something inside her had shifted.
---
That night, Aarushi couldn’t sleep.
She lay on her bed staring at the ceiling fan as it spun in lazy circles. The sketch lay beside her pillow. She told herself she’d look at it once more—and then put it away.
But once became many times.
She kept seeing Mira’s eyes. Calm, observant, as if she could read silences better than words.
“I draw people who hide too much.”
Aarushi swallowed.
Had she really been that visible?
She turned to her side and hugged the pillow.
“This is silly,” she muttered. “She’s a stranger.”
Yet strangers didn’t usually leave this kind of echo behind.
---
The next morning arrived too soon.
Aarushi followed her routine mechanically—tea, bag, keys—but something felt off. Her steps were lighter. Her thoughts… louder.
At the bus stop, she stood exactly where she had stood the night before.
She looked around.
Nothing.
No denim jacket.
No sketchbook.
No Mira.
Aarushi felt a strange disappointment settle in her chest.
Of course she won’t be here, she told herself. Why would she be?
Still, as the bus arrived, she looked one last time.
Nothing.
---
Office was busy, loud, and full of numbers—but Aarushi’s mind wandered constantly.
During lunch, her colleague Riya nudged her.
“You’re quiet today. Everything okay?”
Aarushi hesitated.
“Have you ever met someone… randomly… and then couldn’t stop thinking about them?”
Riya grinned instantly.
“Ohhh. Who is it?”
“No one,” Aarushi said too quickly. “Just… a thought.”
Riya laughed. “That’s how it starts.”
Aarushi didn’t laugh back.
---
That evening, the sky threatened rain again.
Aarushi’s heart beat faster as she walked toward the bus stop, and she hated herself a little for hoping.
And then—
She saw her.
Mira stood near the same spot, sketchbook tucked under her arm, hair slightly longer than Aarushi remembered, moving gently in the wind.
Aarushi froze.
Mira looked up.
Their eyes met.
For a split second, the world went quiet.
Then Mira smiled.
“You missed the bus again?” she asked, amusement dancing in her voice.
Aarushi laughed—soft, breathless.
“No. This time… I came early.”
“Good,” Mira said. “I was hoping I’d see you.”
Those words landed gently—but deeply.
They stood side by side, not awkward, not rushed. Comfortable, like yesterday had never ended.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Aarushi admitted.
“I almost didn’t,” Mira replied. “But something told me to.”
A pause.
“Do you believe in signs?” Mira asked suddenly.
Aarushi thought for a moment.
“I think… I’m starting to.”
Mira smiled at that.
The bus stop filled slowly with people, but somehow they remained in their own quiet bubble.
“Coffee?” Mira asked. “There’s a small place nearby. If you’re not in a hurry.”
Aarushi hesitated.
She had always been careful. Always said no. Always gone straight home.
But life had already curved once.
“Yes,” she said.
“I’d like that.”
Mira’s smile widened—not loud, not dramatic. Just… real.
They walked together as the first drops of rain began to fall aga
in.
And this time, Aarushi knew—
This wasn’t coincidence.
This was the beginning of something that would change her in ways she didn’t yet understand.
