The wind blew softly in the aftermath of an unpredictable rain. The rain was light in itself but enough to make the water fly around as the cars passed by. Arnav loved the rain, like many others. But at the same time, he would hate the rain, if it left him stranded in a place. However, rain never stopped him, well in most cases. He would walk a mile back home after getting down from the bus without a care in the world as the people would watch him while taking shelter pushing each other under a small extended roof in front of the shop. But he? He would walk as if it was a sunny morning and is doing nothing but taking a stroll in the park. The rain would be fierce sometimes, slower the other times, but his pace was always the same.

The air was fresh that day and he was waiting for the rain to do its daily routine of wetting the roads as if there is a system in place to make that happen every day and every day with approximately the same quantity. Contrary to his persona of baring the rain, he decided not to ruin the dress he was wearing and the hair that he had worked on for a couple hours to get that look which was worse than it usually is. He stepped out in the fresh wind onto the wet roads in his nice sneakers and rode to his one favorite shop. Ambiance, he said was nice. It was a coffee shop but he liked the ambiance more than the coffee. But then, he would justify that the coffee is great too.


The streets were a breath of fresh air but his mind is elsewhere. Perhaps, it was the work, or perhaps it is what everyone does while traveling; contemplating about life. He sat at the perfect place at the shop with a coffee in his hand and headphones around him. He was generally involved in his own world unless he gets distracted by something, someone. And that happened more often than not. The ambiance that he spoke of was precisely this. He sat with his same order of the coffee, even the barista knew what he usually has. And as he sat with a determined mind to write that long-lost story that he had been dragging for a few months now and he stared at the blinking cursor at the end of the one sentence that still didn’t seem right. However, a few moments later he, like always was quite engrossed in Instagram as he came across a post and he was compelled to leave a reply. It wasn’t the great start of a conversation, but it did lead to an exchange of a few words, and one thing led to another and he had forgotten about the story that he was had planned to write. To him, the story could wait, but the person in context was way too inquisitive and different than anyone he has come across. To he defense, he has been to the east, west, and south of the country, but he had never been to the north. Perhaps, it was time he did.



That was when he met her. The conversation was quite engrossing for him. Though he was intimidated by the intellect of the person on the other end of the line, he started to like the person little by little as he had earlier liked their conversation. Having said that, he thought that he was being as engrossing as it played in his mind, his heart knew that he sucked at the conversations. He thought a little too much but did nothing of what he had thought. But when there was an idea for a letter exchange, he jumped at the opportunity. That was when he wrote the first letter to her, though he has had a few too many letters to himself and the almighty up above and god knows who else he had grudges on. But, this would be the first time he would be actually sending out the letter. He sat up the night trying to make it the perfect letter that he could. Perhaps, it was his idea of swooping away, but he also knew that he had to do a lot more than a letter. It was in his opinion a start. He seemed to have enjoyed writing the letter, but then again, it was quite unnerving for him to get the review back. He was used to people not talking about his work at all and he could make all the blunders in the world. But now, it wasn’t the case, he had to keep the handwriting perfect since she liked the handwriting and also he had to swoop with the brilliant letter of his. She would definitely give a honest feedback and it sort of unnerving. However, it was also perhaps his chance to improve and learn something that he had neglected for quite a long time.

Before he knew it, the one who didn’t believe in something perhaps started believing in it; something he had never known or felt before. In a way, she was making him improve, better and he himself had this knack to be better, which he had once sort of taken lightly. With time, the conversations grew as did the fondness and however there was yet too much to know, perhaps, it was the start of something beautiful and he is determined to put the best effort he possibly can with the knowledge he never has.

.  .  .