The soft clang of temple bells echoed through the fresh August morning air. Vishrampur was waking up slowly.
Sunlight spilled over concrete rooftops, some plastered and painted, others bare and cracked, casting soft shadows on Ramkatha Marg.
The smell of frying samosas, sizzling bread pakoras, and sweet jalebis filled the narrow street. At 10 a.m., the street was already crowded with pilgrims and vendors. Ramkatha Marg was named for the all-night Ramayana recitals, Ram katha, that once filled the lanes with sacred songs.
Near the center, the old Janki Ram Temple stood silent, its worn stones holding centuries of prayers. Two rows of people were already in front of its steps with sweets and flowers in their hands, waiting for their turn to pray.
Sai Malhotra adjusted the strap of his college bag. His shirt was freshly ironed, but the warmth of the town relaxed his shoulders.
He had just finished his morning classes at Vishrampur College, and the next class was in the late afternoon.
Veer Sharma, his athletic friend who had bunked classes to play cricket, walked beside him, tossing a cricket ball up and down.
"Sai, did you catch the match last night?" Veer asked.
Sai shook his head with a tired smile. "Missed it. Too noisy at home. Needed sleep."
Rhea Singh, his neighbour and classmate, kept pace with them, her breath visible in the cool air.
"You really should've watch. India almost won in the last overs. But we ended up losing in the end. The whole town's talking about it."
Sai chuckled. "You all get so fired up about cricket. I just want a quiet week."
Rhea grinned, pulling out her phone. The screen glowed bright. "You know, I already knew that we were going to lose."
"Through those telegram cricket betting gurus?" Veer poked at her.
But Rhea was unfazed. "Of course not. There's this new astrology app," she said. "Not the usual nonsense. It mixes AI with star charts. Supposedly, it predicts real things. That's how I come to know!"
Sai raised an eyebrow. "Astrology and AI? Sounds like a joke."
"It IS a joke," Veer said, "we were this close to winning, you know. It is through sheer coincidence that we lost. My cousin also told me this Starcode AI app predicted her promotion before anyone else, but how can things like this be predicted? She just earned it."
Rhea rolled her eyes. "Fine. Let me show you two."
They stepped into Patel Bazar, alive with shouting vendors and colorful stalls.
Mangoes shone like golden jewels; fresh green chilies and glistening vegetables piled up like tiny mountains.
Mrs. Mishra, the tea and bread pakoda stall owner, was serving chai. Her sharp eyes flicked to her smartphone screen as she served tea to her guests, glowing softly.
Nearby, Rameshwar "Ramu" Tandon, the post office clerk, leaned on a wall and smiled at her, continuing his conversation. "This is the future," he said, "stars and algorithms together. Keeps Vishrampur ahead."
Sai's ears perked up as he heard that, wanting to hear more. Telling the others to stop, he put his own phone in his pocket and peeked at Mrs. Mishra's phone. As an older lady, she had a huge font size, making it easily visible to him when it flashed with a warning: "Upcoming danger near Patel Bazar. Beware."
He whispered it to his friends. Veer smirked, obviously interested. Rhea, wanting to prove herself right, confirmed, "Did it really say that?"
Before he could respond, he noticed that Mrs. Mishra had caught him sneaking a look and quickly locked the phone. She turned to them and explained, pretending to be nonchalant, "Old phone. Nothing to worry about."
But her hands trembled.
Sai folded his arms, a chill creeping despite the warm day.
Sai's gaze lingered on the locked phone, but before he could pull away, Rameshwar ji leaned nearer, his brow furrowed. "What's wrong, Mrs. Mishra? You look unsettled."
Mrs. Mishra sighed, lowering her voice. "It's these predictions, Ramu brother. They've been strangely accurate lately. Just last week, the app warned me about a neighbour falling ill. Next day, I heard he was admitted to the hospital." Her eyes darted around nervously. "And two days ago, it said there would be trouble on Ramkatha Marg. I didn't believe it, until I heard about that petty theft near the sweets shop."
Ramu nodded slowly, the smile fading from his face. "People are relying too much on this Starcode AI. It's just speculation, patterns, nothing more."
Sai, still watching, felt a shiver run up his spine.
Elsewhere, at the local police station near Brigade Chowk, Sub-Inspector Meena stood before his team of constables, shaking his head. "This Starcode AI app is nothing but superstition mixed with fancy programming. Some people see coincidences and call them prophecies."
One constable shrugged. "But sir, several people are coming forward, saying the app's predictions are coming true."
Meena sighed, rubbing his temple. "Listen, no technology is perfect. And fear spreads faster than facts. Keep your eyes open, but don't let nonsense and gossip distract you from real work."
Back on Ramkatha Marg, late afternoon sun cast long shadows as the market began to wind down. Suddenly, a stray bullet with long horns, ragged and visibly agitated, raced through the crowded street, snarling and snapping.
One row of pilgrims jumped back, startled by the unexpected chaos, some falling down as well. Some vendors screamed, clutching their goods; shoppers scattered in surprise.
Near the sweets stall, a young boy dropped his jalebi tray he was about to dip in curd as the bull snarled closer.
"Watch out!" Veer yelled, moving to shield the boy.
Mrs. Mishra's face went pale. She clutched her phone tighter, her breath catching. "See? This is what the app was warning about."
The rogue bull darted past, disappearing as quickly as it came. The crowd gradually settled, exchanging anxious glances.
"No way a bull would be this agitated near the temple," a passerby muttered.
Sai glanced at Mrs. Mishra, whose hands trembled visibly now, her eyes fixed on her locked phone.
The chill she felt was no longer invisible.