As Aria and Zorvath stepped off the bus, her eyes widened in pure wonder.
She had only heard about the local market from her nanny's stories — how it was crowded, noisy, and unhygienic. But standing here now, she realized it was far more than that.
The air was filled with the scent of spices and fresh produce. Vendors shouted prices, children ran between stalls, and trucks honked as they unloaded crates. On one side of the street, dozens of lorries stood in a row — each carrying something different: fruits, vegetables, grains, and even flowers.
Aria's gaze stopped at one particular truck overflowing with bright red tomatoes.
Her eyes sparkled as she whispered to herself, "I didn't know there is this much Tomatoes here..."
Zorvath, walking beside her, couldn't help but laugh. He turned to her with an amused grin.
"What do you think, Aria? That Mumbai only produce the tomatoes to fill your tiny stomach "
Aria's cheeks flushed. Embarrassed, she looked away and didn't respond.
Zorvath shook his head, still smiling, and started walking ahead through the crowd.
"Looks like I'll have to explain everything to you," he said with mock seriousness.
Aria stayed quiet, still flustered, and hurried to catch up with him — her steps quick and awkward against the noise and chaos of the market.
As they walked through the busy lanes of the market, Zorvath glanced around and said,
"Do you know, Aria… from this same market, some companies and factories buy these goods, pack them neatly, seal them, and then raise the price? After that, they sell it to you fools in the supermarket. By then, that product will have gone through a dozen processes — and half of it will be chemicals. And that's what you people pay extra for."
He gave a short laugh and added, "I'm not saying everything works like this, but most of it does. Especially here."
Aria walked behind him, listening carefully, her eyes wide — like she was discovering something completely new.
"So where do all these tomatoes come from?" she asked curiously.
Zorvath turned back, grinning. "These tomatoes? They come straight from farmers. Once they're harvested, within a day or two, they're brought here — directly to this market. Then, traders buy them and supply them all over Mumbai."
Aria looked around again, amazed. "So this is where everything begins? From the farmers?"
Zorvath smiled slightly. "Exactly. One day, I'll take you to a village. You'll see it all yourself."
Aria's curiosity grew even more. "Really? When?" she asked eagerly.
Zorvath turned, half amused, half tired. "Why are you acting like a child around me?"
Aria straightened up immediately, changing her tone. "I'm not acting like a child. I'm just curious. These things are new to me."
He muttered under his breath, "A child who asks this many questions…" and started walking again.
Aria, still full of questions, followed behind him, asking one after another — and though Zorvath answered them all, his tone grew drier each time.
He finally said, "Every day, starting from 3 a.m., trucks start arriving here. From then until midnight, sales go on. People who run restaurants and cafés — like us — come here to place their orders. We can either pay extra and get them delivered, or hire a carriage and bring them ourselves."
"So," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, "I think we should give our order today — for the café's reopening. That way, everything will be ready."
Aria tilted her head. "But… why do we need tomatoes for our café?"
Zorvath stopped and turned around. "At first, I just wanted to bring you here — to show you all this. Do you have the list?"
"Yeah, yeah, I have it," Aria said quickly, pulling a folded paper from her bag.
"Good," Zorvath said. "Now let's meet a few people and place our order. And I hope—no more questions. I'm tired already."
He sighed and started walking again, clearly drained from answering her endless curiosity. Aria followed, still looking around the market with shining eyes.
Suddenly, a passing carriage rolled through a puddle, splashing muddy water straight onto Aria's face.
Zorvath froze for a second—then burst out laughing, clutching his stomach.
"Zorvath!" Aria yelled, wiping her face. "You—!"
He laughed even harder, barely able to stand straight.
Aria glared at him, half furious, half embarrassed, and muttered a few curses under her breath.
Beside where Aria and Zorvath stood, there was a middle-aged woman selling flowers. Seeing Aria's mud-splattered face, the woman got up and came toward her.
Taking the edge of her sari, she began gently wiping Aria's cheek.
"Oh, girl, you have such a pretty face. How did you get so much dirt on it?" she said, her voice soft and motherly.
Aria froze in surprise, not knowing how to react to a stranger's kindness. Zorvath stepped closer, standing quietly behind the woman, watching.
Aria quickly pulled a tissue from her bag. "No, no, auntie, I can do it myself. Thank you," she said politely.
But the woman ignored her words, took one of the tissues from Aria's hand, and continued wiping her face, even brushing off the stains from her clothes. When she bent down to clean Aria's shoes, Aria immediately stopped her, holding her hand gently.
"No, auntie, please. I can do that myself," she said with pure respect.
The woman smiled warmly, her eyes kind and full of affection.
Just then, Zorvath stepped forward, took the tissue, and crouched down to clean the mud from Aria's shoes and the bit stuck on her leg. The woman looked at both of them with a soft smile, while Aria awkwardly gestured, "No, no, he's no one—just…"
But the woman only chuckled. "You young people," she said. "Wandering around like this… don't you have school or something?"
Aria stayed silent, unsure how to answer. Zorvath just smiled faintly.
The woman straightened up and said, "You have such a pretty face, dear. Be careful while walking. Not everyone will stop to help you like I did."
Zorvath didn't reply. He simply took off his coat and gently draped it over Aria's shoulders — her white T-shirt was splattered with mud. She looked down at herself and then up at him, whispering a small, "Thank you."
Before leaving, the flower seller picked a small white flower from her basket and tucked it into Aria's long black hair.
"Your blue eyes," she said softly, admiring them. "They're rare — they shine like water under sunlight. God must love you a lot to give you eyes like that. You should be thankful, dear."
Aria stood still, touched and wordless, staring at the woman's kindness. Zorvath smiled faintly and said, "Thank you, auntie," buying a handful of roses from her.
The woman's face brightened with joy as she wrapped the flowers carefully and handed them over.
As they walked away, Aria touched the little flower in her hair, still thinking about the woman. After a few steps, she whispered to Zorvath, her voice full of warmth,
"See how kind that lady was?"