AUTHOR'S POV
The IISER Thiruvananthapuram campus never really felt still.
Early mornings arrived wrapped in a thin veil of mist, soft and quiet, like the world hadn't fully woken up yet. The trees stood blurred at the edges, their outlines melting into each other, and the pathways looked unfamiliar—as if they belonged to a different place altogether.
Even footsteps sounded slower, more careful, like no one wanted to disturb the calm.
For a few minutes, everything felt paused. Then the day would begin.
By evening, the campus had transformed completely. Sunlight pushed through the dense green canopy, breaking into warm golden fragments that stretched across the walkways. Shadows shifted with every passing second, flickering against the ground like moving patterns.
The academic blocks stood tall and still, holding within them long lectures, half-understood theories, scribbled notes, and ambitions far bigger than the people carrying them. Inside those walls, futures were being built—sometimes carefully, sometimes in complete confusion.
The hostels, though, were a different world entirely.
Doors stayed half-open, voices echoed endlessly through corridors, someone was always laughing too loudly, and someone else was always on the verge of a breakdown. It was chaos, but a familiar kind. The kind you stopped questioning after a while.
Late-night panic blended seamlessly with last-minute confidence. "We'll manage" became a survival strategy more than a statement.
And somehow, despite everything, the campus balanced it all—calm and chaos, silence and noise, pressure and freedom.
It wasn't just a place to study. It was where things started shifting—quietly, steadily, whether anyone noticed or not.
The study room, however, had completely given up on calm that Friday evening.
Books were everywhere. Not arranged—abandoned. Tables were crowded, chairs barely visible under notes, and a few books sat dangerously close to the edge, as if one wrong movement would send everything crashing down.
The air felt heavier than usual, thick with stress and unfinished portions.
Niharika sat cross-legged on her chair, a highlighter in one hand, the other hovering dangerously close to her mouth. Her fingers brushed against her lips for a second—then she stopped herself.
Again.
Her notebook, in contrast, was almost annoyingly perfect. Clean margins, structured headings, formulas aligned neatly as if they had been placed there with intention.
It was the only thing about her that looked in control.
"Bro, if this comes for 10 marks, I'm actually finished," Pranav muttered, flipping through pages faster than he could read them.
"Relax," Divya said softly, not even looking up from her notes.
Riya dropped her pen dramatically, letting it roll off the table. "I'm done. I'm dropping out. I'll open a café. Peaceful life. No exams, no stress."
"Oh!" Varun said without missing a beat. "Name it Backlogs & Brews."
There was a second of silence.
Then—
"WAIT, THAT'S ACTUALLY GOOD—"
Laughter burst through the room, loud and sudden, breaking the tension just enough for everyone to breathe again.
Niharika smiled faintly but didn't look up.
Outside, the sun dipped lower, gold slipping through the windows and stretching across the floor. Inside, time felt different—faster and slower at the same time.
Everyone was studying. Everyone was worried. No one said it out loud.
bzzzt
Niharika's phone vibrated against the table, breaking through the noise.
Saachi reached over, pulled it from Niharika's bag, and handed it to her.
The screen lit up.
Appa calling.
Niharika straightened slightly, her expression shifting almost automatically. She got up and walked toward the window, away from the noise, where the light felt softer and the air less crowded.
"Hi, Appa."
"Hello, Nihi... how are you?" His voice was calm, steady—the kind that always made her slow down without realizing it.
"I'm good."
"Eating properly? Not skipping meals?"
A small smile formed. "I am."
"Hmm. And studies?"
"Going well," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
There was a pause.
Not awkward.
Just... longer than usual.
She noticed immediately.
"Appa... what happened?"
"Nothing like that," he said gently. "Shankar came home yesterday."
Something in her stilled.
Just slightly.
"Oh. Why?"
"He came to talk. During the conversation... he asked if we've started looking for a groom for you."
Niharika blinked, her grip on the phone tightening just a little. "And?"
"We said no." A brief pause. "Then he mentioned Hanish. Said he's interested. Asked if we'd consider."
The noise of the study room faded into the background.
For a moment, she didn't say anything.
She looked out through the window, her reflection faint against the glass, blending with the fading sky.
"I don't really know him like that, Appa," she said finally. "I've barely spoken to him."
"That's what we told him, too," her father replied. "It's your decision. No pressure."
She let out a slow breath, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little.
"I want to focus on my studies," she said, her voice steady now. "We can think about all this later."
"That's fine."
"Okay, Appa."
"Take care, Nihi."
The call ended.
For a few seconds, she didn't move.
The last streaks of sunlight disappeared completely, leaving behind a softer, dimmer light.
Behind her, everything continued—pages turning, pens moving, voices murmuring. Nothing had changed. Except... something had.
A thought had been placed quietly in her mind. And it refused to leave.
By the time they finally packed up, night had settled fully over the campus.
The mess was its usual chaos—plates clinking, people arguing about marks, someone loudly complaining about the syllabus as it had personally betrayed them. Niharika barely registered any of it.
Later, when she and Saachi stepped out, the campus had quieted again.
The air felt cooler now. They walked side by side, unhurried, their footsteps echoing faintly against the path.
Saachi glanced at her once. Then again.
"You were serious on that call," she said finally. "What happened?"
Niharika took a few steps before answering.
"Shankar uncle came home."
Saachi nodded. "Okay..."
"He asked if my parents are looking for a groom." A pause. "They said no... but then he mentioned Hanish."
Saachi turned fully this time. "Hanish? That Hanish?"
Niharika nodded. "Deepak's friend."
Saachi let out a soft "hmm," processing. "Go on."
"He works at HAL now," Niharika said. "Aerospace structural engineer. Quiet type. Doesn't talk much."
"Observes everything, says nothing?" Saachi guessed.
Niharika gave a small nod. "Exactly."
"Have you even spoken to him properly?"
"When I was younger, yeah. He used to come home a lot." She paused. "After I turned fifteen... not really."
Saachi tilted her head slightly. "So... did you ever like him?"
Niharika shot her a look. "No."
"Or did you just put him in the 'anna zone'?"
"Saachi..." she sighed. "No. I just never thought about him like that."
There was a brief silence between them.
Then—
"I do remember something."
Saachi's eyes lit up instantly. "Oh, this is going to be GOOD."
"It's embarrassing."
"Even better."
Niharika hesitated, then gave in.
"I was around sixteen. I came out of my room to grab my pants from the hall. I didn't realize the door was open."
Saachi was already smiling.
"I was just in my top," she continued. "And then I heard someone call Deepak... I turned—and he was standing there."
Saachi froze.
Then burst out laughing. "NO WAY—"
"He saw," Niharika said, completely expressionless. "And immediately turned around and said sorry."
"Oh my god, I cannot—"
"I ran back inside. We never spoke about it again."
"That man has seen things," Saachi whispered dramatically.
"Stop," Niharika said, though she couldn't stop the small smile that slipped through.
They walked a little further. This time, the silence felt different. Softer. Heavier.
"So what's the issue now?" Saachi asked quietly.
"Studies," Niharika said. "I'm not in that space. And... Germany." She hesitated. "If I get married, everything changes."
Saachi nodded slowly.
"But?" she asked.
Niharika looked ahead. The hostel entrance was just a few steps away now.
"...he's a good person," she admitted.
Saachi smiled faintly. "That's rare."
Niharika didn't reply. But the thought stayed.
Inside, the room was dim.
Divya was already curled up in her blanket, scrolling lazily through her phone.
"Finally," she mumbled. "I thought you both shifted to the mess permanently."
Saachi laughed, dropping her bag onto the chair.
Niharika stepped in quietly, closing the door behind her.
The noise of the day faded. The campus slowed. Everything settled.
But her mind didn't. Not completely.
And as she lay down later that night, staring at the ceiling in the dark, one thought kept circling back— What kind of person is he now?