Another city. Another stop.
The train hissed beneath me as it began to slow, the wheels clashing with the tracks in uneven bursts. I stayed still, watching Udaipur come into focus through the dirt-specked glass—faded rooftops, chipped walls, temple spires catching the light just right. The whole place looked like a memory someone never finished painting.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the window—messy hair, tired face… but the eyes were awake. Curious. Maybe even a little excited. I was already trying to take it all in before I'd even stepped off the train.
Outside, the station was buzzing. Vendors shouting chai orders, rickshaws honking like they were in some kind of orchestra, and porters moving through the crowd like they'd memorized the steps of a dance. Everything was louder, faster, more alive than the last place I'd been.
And for some reason, I didn't mind it.
It felt different here.
The station was alive with noise and movement, but somehow, it didn't feel overwhelming. It felt like the city was breathing around me—calm, steady, sure of itself.
I wasn't here looking for anything dramatic. Just a few quiet moments. A view worth remembering. Something that felt real for once.
As I stepped out of the station gates, sunlight hit my face—warm and sharp, like the city was shaking my shoulders, telling me to wake up. I paused for a second, taking it all in.
As I started to move toward the exit, a voice from the side called out, "Bhaiya… where do you wanna go?"
"Uh… Hotel Malavi," I replied.
"Malavi?" he repeated, like I'd just made it up.
"Yeah."
"Come, come—my auto is just at the gate," he said, with the confidence of someone who was doing charity work.
"How much?" I asked, already bracing for it.
"120."
Of course.
Before I could even respond, another guy popped out of nowhere like he'd been waiting for this exact moment.
"Where are you going, bhaiya?"
"Hotel Malavi," I repeated, slightly amused now.
"I'll take you, 100."
The first guy turned sharply. "Raju uncle… go find your own customer."
"I did find my own customer. He's standing right here," Raju uncle shot back.
"I saw him first!" said the original bhaiya.
What am I? A mango in the market?
I raised my hand like a referee breaking up a wrestling match. "Look, bhaiya, you come down to 100, or I'm going with uncle."
A dramatic pause.
"Fine-fine, 100," bhaiya muttered, like I'd personally offended his ancestors.
I smiled and followed him.
The auto rattled to life, and we pulled into the flow of traffic—if you could even call it that. It was more like a dance between honking horns, stray cows, and last-minute turns.
I sat back and let the city unfold in front of me.
Bright murals on cracked walls. Women in colorful sarees, balancing baskets on their heads. Narrow lanes where scooters zipped past with inches to spare. A sudden glimpse of water glinting between buildings—the lake, calm and glassy, like it had nothing to prove.
Every corner felt like it had a story. Every wall was telling a story.
Udaipur didn't try too hard to impress you. It just... existed. Beautifully. Honestly.
I checked in, dumped my bag, and after a bit of rest, decided to head out. No plans, no checklist—just a vague idea that I should probably see something before the day slipped away.
-walking-
Somewhere in the distance, I could hear temple bells ringing, soft and steady, like the city had its own heartbeat.
-walking-
And before I knew it, I found myself at the edge of Lake Pichola, the water shimmering like a mirror laid flat against the sky.
Lake Pichola stretched out in front of me like a painting that didn't know when to end. The reflections of the old buildings along the ghats shimmered gently, as if the city itself was leaning down to admire its own face.
Boats drifted across the water, quiet and slow, like they didn't want to disturb the silence. A couple sat at the edge, sharing something from a paper cone. A group of kids skipped stones near the steps, their laughter echoing like it belonged here.
Behind it all, the City Palace rose like a dream—grand, weathered, timeless. It didn't shout for attention. It just stood there, glowing faintly in the golden light.
I don't know how long I stood there, just watching.
Looking at this heart-shaped lake, I couldn't help but think… maybe this is where someone, someday, fell in love for the first time. How many love stories started right here without anyone noticing?
I didn't expect the universe to answer my thought so quickly.
Just a moment ago, I was wondering what kind of person might fall in love in a place like this—and then I collided with someone who looked like she belonged in that kind of story.
I barely had time to blink; I was just noticing her. She adjusted her step, caught her balance, and flicked her sunglasses back into place before I could even ask if she was okay.
"Are you always this graceful," she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "or am I just lucky?"
I laughed, mostly to cover the fact that my brain had completely short-circuited.
In a grey t-shirt and black sneakers. A camera bag slung across her shoulder. A bottle of water was peeking out of her tote. She looked like she belonged here.
There were no violins. No slow-motion windswept hair moment. No flower petals flying in the air.
Just her—
In that split second, the lake didn't feel like the most beautiful thing in front of me anymore…she did.
Chapter - 2, coming as fast as possible