Hira paused at the gate, his breath still steadying from the run, the unsettling encounter with the old man lingering like a faint shadow in his mind.
The morning sun warmed his back as he wiped sweat from his brow, ready to step inside the familiar comfort of home. But just as he pushed the wrought-iron gate open, two voices called out in unison from behind him.
"Hira!"
"Hey bro!"
He turned, surprise etching across his face. There, standing on the quiet street, were Shweta and …
Amit—his best friend from school days.
Shweta waved enthusiastically, her dupatta fluttering in the gentle breeze, while Amit grinned mischievously, hands shoved into his pockets.
"What are you two doing here?" Hira asked, a genuine smile breaking through his fatigue. He hadn't expected visitors so early, especially after his fever the day before.
Shweta stepped forward first, her expression softening with concern. "I came to check on you. You weren't feeling well yesterday when I visited, remember? I wanted to see for myself if you're okay now."
Amit chuckled, nudging her playfully. "And I was planning a surprise attack—drop in unannounced and devour some of Dadi's legendary cooking."
Hira laughed, the tension from the alley easing away. "Come on in, both of you. Dadi will be thrilled."
As they entered the courtyard, Shanti looked up from the garden, her hands dusted with soil from tending the tulsi plant. Her face lit up instantly at the sight of the familiar faces.
"Arre, Shweta beta! Amit! What a lovely surprise!" she exclaimed, wiping her hands on her saree and hurrying over to envelop them in warm hugs. "Come, come inside. You must be hungry after coming all this way."
The aroma of fresh aloo parathas and simmering chai already wafted from the kitchen, drawing them in like a magnet.
Soon, the small dining table was laden with breakfast: golden parathas stuffed with spiced potatoes, curd, pickle, and steaming cups of masala chai. Shanti bustled about, insisting on second helpings, her joy evident in the way she fussed over them like her own grandchildren.
As they ate, the conversation flowed easily—catching up on daily lives, the relief of things reopening, and sympathy about Vedman's family situation.
Hira felt a deep gratitude for these moments; simple, yet anchoring in a world that had felt isolated for so long.
Halfway through the meal, Hira turned to Shweta, recalling her desire to talk about something on the phone the day before yesterday. "You said there was something you wanted to talk about. What was it?"
Shweta set down her cup, nodding. "Yes, actually. Papa got a notice from the university yesterday—it's officially reopening next week after the lockdown. He's the head of the History Department, you know, and there's a ton of paperwork piling up. Updating records, organizing department files, preparing for the new semester... He asked if you and I could help out. You're good with all that organizing stuff, and I thought it'd be nice to do it together."
Hira didn't hesitate. Shweta's father had always been like a mentor to him, guiding his interest in history during college visits. "Of course, I'll help. Just tell me when and where."
Her eyes brightened with relief. "Great! Papa will be so happy. He has to report since tomorrow, so?"
"It's okay for me." Hira said, raising his chai in a mock toast.
Shanti beamed from across the table. "Good children, helping elders. God bless you all."
After breakfast, Shweta excused herself—she had errands to run and promised to message the details later. With a quick hug for Shanti and a wave to Hira, she left, her steps light on the path.
Amit, however, showed no signs of leaving. He settled into the living room sofa, kicking off his shoes and declaring, "I'm staying for a bit. We have months of gossip to catch up on, bro."
Hira chuckled and joined him, the two diving into easy banter. They talked about everything: Amit and his family falling into Pariama sleep, Yash's disappearance…
Time slipped by unnoticed. Shanti occasionally popped in with snacks: fresh fruits, then biscuits with more chai.
By early afternoon, the sun was high, and Amit finally stretched, glancing at his watch. "Alright, I should head out. Don't want to overstay before Dadi adopts me permanently."
Shanti laughed. "You're always welcome, beta. Come anytime for food—or just to brighten an old woman's day."
Amit hugged her goodbye, then fist-bumped Hira at the door. "Take care, man. And have some hope, everything will get fully better soon."
As Amit's figure disappeared down the street, Hira turned to Shanti. "We should get ready too, Dadi. Papa and Ma are waiting."
Shanti nodded, her expression shifting to quiet concern.
They changed quickly, gathered a bag of fruits and homemade lunch for the ward, and stepped out. The car ride to the ward was filled with soft conversation—Shanti sharing stories of her own friends' visits in younger days, Hira just nodding along the flow.
The SP15 ward loomed ahead, its exterior bustling with the renewed activity of a post-lockdown world.
Even though 60% of people have woken up, there are still families whose loved ones are in these wards, hoping that they will also wake up soon.