Third Person PoV

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The same night

In the stillness of the night, Devrudra sat at his desk, the soft glow of his computer screen casting a gentle halo around him. The hostel room, usually alive with the hum of his music player and the fluttering sound of breeze, was now a silent sanctuary. Outside, the room was a tapestry of twinkling lights, a contrast to the calm and quiet within. Yet, Devrudra's mind was far from peaceful. His thoughts were a whirlwind, all centered on one person, Prashmita.

She had a way of occupying his mind, even in her absence. Her smile, a melody that lingered in his ears, and her gentle eyes, which seemed to hold a universe of emotions, were etched into his memory. He recalled their recent conversation, where she had mentioned regarding the NOC form. It was important to her, and he had promised to send it. But the evening had been consumed by an avalanche of case reading and urgent tasks, and now he was left with a sense of guilt for not prioritizing it sooner.

The clock on the wall ticked past midnight, each second a reminder of his delayed promise. Devrudra leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly, and closed his eyes. He pictured Prashmita in her element, working with the same dedication and passion that had always inspired him. She deserved better than his negligence.

With renewed determination, he sat up and opened his email. He found the NOC form on his computer, his fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard. As he attached the document, his thoughts wandered back to her. He wondered what she was doing at this very moment. Was she asleep, dreaming of something beautiful, or was she, like him, lost in thoughts that refused to let her rest?

He began typing the message.

Hi Prashmita,

Apologies for the delay in sending this. Here is the NOC form you .

I hope it helps, and if you need anything else, feel free to reach out.

Best,

Devrudra

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, a thousand unspoken words running through his mind. He wanted to say more, to convey the depth of his thoughts and feelings, but he hesitated. Instead, he added a postscript, hoping it would convey a fraction of what he felt:

P.S. I hope you're doing well. Take care.

He stared at the screen for a moment, then took a deep breath and clicked "send." The email vanished into the digital void, and with it, a weight lifted from his shoulders. Yet, there was a lingering sense of longing, an unfulfilled desire to be more than just a colleague who sent emails at odd hours.

Devrudra shut down his computer and rose from his desk. The office was dim, the shadows stretching and shifting as he moved. He grabbed his coat and stepped into the cool night air. The campus was quiet, the stars above twinkling like scattered diamonds. He gazed up, wondering if Prashmita was looking at the same sky, thinking of him as he was of her.

As he walked towards his room, the night seemed to wrap around him, a blanket of tranquility. But his heart was restless, filled with thoughts of Prashmita. He knew that this small act of sending the form was just the beginning. There was so much more he wanted to share with her, to show her how much she meant to him.

With a hopeful smile, Devrudra drove into the night, the road ahead a path to possibilities, guided by the light of his thoughts and dreams of Prashmita.

In the quiet of the morning light,
I feel something new inside,
A gentle warmth, a soft surprise,
Like a bloom beneath the sky.

It's a whisper, a secret call,A tender glance that says it all,
In your eyes, I see the start,
Of something growing in my heart.

As I thought about her, delving into the abyss of fondness, I recalled the moment when she shared her email. It was a simple exchange, yet it had left an indelible mark on my heart. She had mentioned needing the NOC form, and without hesitation, she had given me her email address, her voice carrying a blend of professionalism and warmth that I found utterly captivating.

In that brief interaction, I had sensed an unspoken connection, a subtle undercurrent that made my heart race. Her eyes had sparkled with a gentle curiosity, and her smile had been like a beacon, drawing me closer. I had wanted to ask for her number, to bridge the gap between us with a more personal touch, but a part of me had held back. Perhaps it was the fear of overstepping boundaries, or maybe it was the sheer joy of savoring the moment as it was.

So, I had clung to her email address as if it were a precious relic, a token of a promise yet to be fulfilled. Each time I saw her name in my inbox, a wave of warmth washed over me, a reminder of the connection we shared. I would draft my emails carefully, each word a reflection of my thoughts, my hopes, and my unspoken feelings.

There were moments when I would stare at her email address, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, tempted to write something more personal, something that conveyed the depth of my emotions. But I would resist, reminding myself to respect the delicate balance we had. I found solace in the idea that, for now, this was enough. Our correspondence, though limited, was a lifeline, a thread that kept us connected in the vast expanse of our separate worlds.

Even as I tried to be satisfied with just her email, there was an indomitable urge within me, a longing that refused to be quelled. I would replay our conversations in my mind, her laughter echoing in my thoughts, her words a balm to my restless heart. I cherished each interaction, finding joy in the simplest of exchanges, and yet, there was always a yearning for more.

"Dhur, keno je phone number chailam na, but what even I can do? madam er naker upor rag to soda birajoman" I chided to my inner-self.

[uff, why did I not ask her number]

[but, madam keeps her anger on her nose only, that too for all the time]

"tishthoti Devrudra, be happy with email only, don't try to be greedy much"I endeavored to delve deeper into self-reflection, challenging and questioning my own beliefs with a profound sense of introspection.

[stay calm]

Suddenly, my tranquil reverie was shattered by the raucous eruption of my ringtone, blaring out the evocative strains of 'Ekla Cholo'. 

Catching a fleeting glimpse of my screen, I saw Raghav's name illuminated in bold letters. Without a moment's hesitation, I answered the call.

"Bol bhai" "My voice emerged with a languid, unhurried quality, exuding a sense of effortless ease."

[say, brother]

"Main kya bolu, bolna to tujhe hain , mere bhai" His irksome voice pierced through my cochlea, resonating with an unwelcome persistence that seemed to infiltrate my very senses.

[what would I say, you need to speak up, my brother]

"Bhai, bol na kya bolna hain?" I attempted to feign a pleading tone, though the truth was, I was utterly exhausted. The relentless demands of duty and exhausting meeting had rendered the day an unrelenting whirlwind of fatigue.

[tell, what do you want to tell?]

"Well, well, if it isn't the legendary Devrudra himself. I hear you've been spending quite a bit of time with Prashmita lately. Care to share the secret behind this newfound companionship?" His playfulness was unmistakably discernible, conveyed solely through the nuances of his voice.

"Oh, it's nothing special. We've just been talking about the projects together. It's purely professional." I endeavored to maintain an air of nonchalance, fully aware that my attempts to appear convincing were, in reality, falling woefully short.

"Professional, huh? That's not what I heard. I've been getting the distinct impression that there's more to it than meets the eye. Have you finally make her succumbed to your charm?" The teasing was unmistakably apparent to me. If only I had not been so captivated by her that day, if only I had been more vigilant about my surroundings—alas!

"You're incorrigible, Raghav. It's really just about collaboration. She's got some impressive ideas, and it's been useful to exchange perspectives." I made a valiant effort to conceal the flush spreading across my cheeks, hoping to hide the telltale color from view.

"Sure, sure. Just keep telling yourself that. But I've seen the way you two interact. It's clear there's more than just work happening there. Are you telling me there's no spark?""His laughter echoed through the speaker of my cell phone, reverberating with a vibrancy that seemed to stretch and linger in the air." 

 "You always have to exaggerate, don't you? Maybe I'm just enjoying the intellectual stimulation. That's all." "I managed a grin that resembled more the plaintive bray of a dying donkey than a genuine expression of amusement."

"Intellectual stimulation, huh? more like roamant-""I intervened mid-sentence, fearing that allowing him to continue might unleash a torrent of words so overwhelming it could quite literally be the death of me."

"chup kar ja mere  bhai" I made several attempts to restrain him, but his laughter only seemed to intensify, swelling with each passing moment into a crescendo of mirth.

[shut up, my brother]

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Author's note

The chapter gave the small glimpse of the banter Devrudra shares with Raghav.

The song "Raabta" captures the essence of a deep, fated connection between two souls. The term "Raabta" itself means a connection or bond, and the lyrics convey a sense of inevitability, as if the two lovers were always meant to find each other. The song expresses the idea that their meeting was not by chance but by destiny, and that their bond transcends time and space.