It was 6:47 p.m. The Delhi Metro had halted midway between Rajiv Chowk and Mandi House. Lights flickered, fans stopped spinning, and inside the slightly claustrophobic coach, the buzz of annoyance began rising.
Aanya, who had just wanted to get home early for once, sighed and leaned back against the pole. Her headphones were dead. Her phone was at 11%. And worse, a drop of sweat was sliding down her spine.
Great. Just great.
Then she noticed him.
Across from her, holding onto the same pole, was a guy. Black hoodie, ruffled hair, glasses slightly fogged from the humidity. He looked equally annoyed but… calm.
He caught her staring.
She quickly looked away.
"Looks like we'll be stuck here for a while," he said, a small smile forming.
Aanya blinked. "Yeah. Probably a rat ran across the tracks or something."
He chuckled. "I'm Vihaan."
She hesitated, then replied, "Aanya."
A pause. Then she added, "No, I don't usually talk to strangers in metro trains."
Vihaan grinned. "Good to know. I must look very un-threatening."
She laughed softly.
Just then, the lights flickered again. A small child somewhere in the coach began to cry.
"Ugh," Aanya muttered. "Yeh sarkari system kabhi time pe kaam karega bhi?"
("Will this government system ever work on time?")
Vihaan smirked. "Aap politician lagti hain thodi."
("You sound a bit like a politician.")
"Bas sarcasm mein gold medal hai mujhe."
("I've won a gold medal in sarcasm.")
A beat passed between them. The kind of silence that isn't uncomfortable — just waiting to be filled.
Vihaan glanced at her hands. "You paint?" he asked, noticing faint specks of blue on her fingers.
She blinked, surprised. "Yeah… just as a hobby."
"Nice. I write music."
Aanya tilted her head. "Oh? What kind?"
"The kind no one listens to," he said, laughing.
She smiled. "Sounds about right. I paint things no one buys."
Another silence. This one warmer.
The train jerked slightly, but didn't move.
Outside the window, the city was still and quiet — the usual chaos drowned by dusk and paused metal.
"Tumhe darr nahi lagta?" he asked suddenly.
("Aren't you scared?")
"Train mein atak jaane se?"
("Of being stuck in a train?")
He nodded.
She shook her head. "Zindagi mein aur bhi cheezein darawani hoti hain."
("There are scarier things in life.")
He looked at her, longer this time. "Like what?"
She hesitated, then said softly, "Falling for someone you just met."
Vihaan's smile faded into something more sincere. He didn't answer right away.
The lights turned on again. A mechanical voice announced the train would resume shortly.
People groaned in relief. The moment started to slip away.
But then Vihaan leaned slightly closer and whispered, "Aaj toh train bhi ruk gayi… hum bhi ruk jaayein thoda?"
("Even the train stopped today… should we pause too, for a moment?")
Aanya looked at him, her expression unreadable. Then — she nodded.
"Bas ek station aur," she said. "Get down with me at Mandi House?"
("Just one more station. Will you get down with me at Mandi House?")
"Deal."