📅 October 4 – Nandanpur
The morning came quietly. Too quietly.
The air felt heavy, like the world was holding its breath after Dusshera. The sky above Nandanpur looked painted — pale gold with streaks of grey, as though unsure whether to rain or shine.
Ishanvi sat by the window, her school notes open but untouched.
The flame of the diya flickered strangely — sideways, not upward.
She frowned, cupped her hands around it… and it straightened.
Her heart skipped.
It wasn't the wind.
It was her.
---
The Water Answers
A few houses away, Abhay was helping his father fill drums near the well. The rope squeaked; the bucket dipped; the water rose.
But before he could pull it up, the surface rippled on its own — small circles spreading outward, then inward again like a heartbeat.
He leaned closer. The reflection staring back wasn't still. The eyes in the water glowed faintly silver-blue, moving even when he stayed still.
Abhay dropped the rope. "What the—"
The water stilled instantly, like it had been waiting for him to notice.
---
At School
By noon, both of them were on their scooters, heading to Devgarh. School had reopened after the festival break.
The air carried the scent of flowers, incense, and rain-damp soil.
Simran waved from the gate. "You two finally showed up! Miss almost marked you absent again!"
Rehan added, half-grinning, "You missed the announcement — cultural fest in November!"
Ishanvi smiled faintly, but her thoughts were elsewhere.
Every time she blinked, she saw flickers — the temple lake, the sparks from the ninth night, the boys' faces when Abhay had dragged them away.
That night had changed something deep inside her — something that refused to sleep.
---
A Strange Incident
During the last period, the fan above her began spinning faster — faster than it should.
The teacher scolded, "Ishanvi! Don't stare at it like that, concentrate!"
But then — sparks flew. A flash, a hiss — and the fan stopped.
The class gasped. Ishanvi froze.
Her palms felt hot again, but when she looked down — nothing. Not even a burn mark.
At the same time, from the other end of the corridor, Abhay stood near the drinking tap — watching the metal tap twist on its own, gushing water though no one had touched it.
For a second, both looked at each other across the hallway — startled, scared… connected.
---
After School
As they rode home, clouds rolled in from nowhere. The first drops of rain hit Ishanvi's scarf; steam rose where they touched.
Abhay saw it and slowed down.
"Ishanvi— your scarf's—"
"I know," she said quickly, voice trembling. "Don't stop. Please just… don't stop."
They rode in silence, the storm chasing them down the long, empty road between Devgarh and Nandanpur.
---
That evening, the Sudarshini River shimmered again — one side burning red like fire, the other glowing blue like calm water.
And in the wind, a faint sound echoed — a whisper neither could yet understand.