Chapter 10: Shelter in the Storm

That day, I don’t know what I was thinking. I just followed Arjun home.

His house was far. I’d never been before. Only when we got to his door did I start to feel nervous.

I worried about suddenly bringing me home—would he get scolded?

Worried his parents would be like mine, not welcoming to classmates.

But he opened the door, changed slippers, and spoke so casually.

"Papa, Ma. I brought a friend home, make more samosas."

The first out of the kitchen was Arjun’s dad.

"You rascal, you actually have a friend? She must have a lot of patience to put up with you."

"Oh, and a girl classmate."

He laughed heartily, his face dusted with flour.

Before he finished, a gentle female voice interrupted.

"Bas karo, your mouth is so big, you’ll scare her."

"Beta, come in. We’re having aloo samosas today. Do you like potatoes?"

"Old Arjun, what are you staring at? Knead more dough. Arjun, there’s Thums Up in the fridge, get a bottle for your friend."

Arjun: "Oh, Meera, what flavour do you want? Orange?"

That day, I didn’t want to cry.

But somehow, seeing Arjun’s enthusiastic parents, seeing their happy family, my nose started to sting.

I held back for a long time, but finally couldn’t.

With the first thunder of monsoon, I burst into tears.

That night, I didn’t go home.

Because the rain was too heavy, and the thunder too loud, Arjun’s mom called my mom.

My mom was busy with my dad, didn’t care about me.

So that night, I slept in Arjun’s room.

He was sent to the living room, and at night, he asked through the door, "Meera, are you afraid of thunder?"

"How come I never noticed you were such a scaredy-cat?"

"Hah, I’ll keep watch here tonight. Don’t let me catch you crying, thunder girl..."

His mouth was really sharp.

I’d been feeling down, but his words instantly lightened my mood, leaving me speechless.

"Get lost, idiot."

He didn’t leave.

Leaning against the door, he sat there all night.

The next morning, when I opened the door, he fell in and grimaced in pain.

So many years ago, I’ve forgotten a lot.

But the summer breeze, the cicadas, and the fiery clouds from that year, I remember clearly.

I can even recall the smell of samosas and Thums Up in the air that summer…

The kitchen smelled of frying onions and fresh coriander, and Arjun’s mother pressed a warm steel plate into my hands, her bangles jingling. The memory made me smile through my tears, the ache in my chest both old and new. The way Arjun looked at me that night, half teasing, half protective, I realized how much those moments meant—even now.

"Meera, go to sleep."

Arjun’s voice seemed to travel through time, coming through the door, instantly pulling me back.

I sighed softly, closed my eyes.

And silently recited in my heart.

"Arjun, good night."