chapter : 1 The first bump

The morning mist of Shimla danced over the hills like a dream half-awake. Streets were still damp from last night’s drizzle, and the air smelled of pine, rain, and freshly brewed tea.

In the middle of this quiet charm, chaos was running — literally.

Krita, a 20-year-old journalism student, was sprinting up the college road, holding her bag in one hand and a half-eaten sandwich in the other. Her loose ponytail swung wildly as she mumbled between breaths,

> “Bas ab sirne attendance kat di na, toh gaya mera internal marks!”

She turned the corner — and fate decided to have some fun.

THUD!

Her sandwich flew one way, her bag the other, and right in front of her stood a guy — tall, messy-haired, holding what used to be a cup of hot coffee.

Now it was all over his white hoodie.

He blinked, stunned. Then frowned.

> “What the—! Can’t you see?”

Krita froze, cheeks burning. “Oh no! I’m so sorry, I didn’t— I wasn’t looking—”

He sighed, staring at the dripping mess.

> “Great. First day of internship and I smell like a cappuccino.”

That’s when she noticed the camera slung around his neck. A shiny DSLR.

She tilted her head, half curious, half guilty.

> “You’re a photographer?”

> “No,” he said dryly, “I just like carrying expensive gadgets while spilling coffee.”

Krita’s lips twitched. Okay, sarcastic much.

But then, his faint smirk gave him away — he wasn’t really angry.

> “I’ll pay for the laundry,” she blurted out, trying to help.

> “Relax, Miss Hurricane. Just try not to bump into any more people today, okay?”

Before she could reply, he walked away, camera clicking casually as he went.

And for some reason, the sound of that shutter stayed in her ears longer than the apology she didn’t get to finish.

---

Later that day in the newsroom lab, her professor called her name.

> “Krita! You’ll be working with Aarav Malhotra, our new intern, for the documentary project.”

Her jaw almost dropped.

> “Sir… Aarav Malhotra?”

And there he was — leaning on the desk, coffee-stained hoodie freshly washed, that same teasing smile on his face.

> “Hey, partner. Try not to attack me this time.”

Everyone laughed. Krita rolled her eyes, hiding a smile.

She didn’t know it yet, but that clumsy bump wasn’t just an accident.

It was the first chapter

Everyone laughed. Krita rolled her eyes, hiding a smile.

But inside, something stirred. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe irritation — or maybe that tiny spark that starts quietly before it sets your whole heart on fire.

As the day ended, Krita looked out of the classroom window. The rain had started again, softly tapping against the glass. She could still hear that click of Aarav’s camera in her mind — the sound that had captured the first moment of something neither of them yet understood.

She smiled to herself and whispered,

> “Maybe… this is how stories begin.”

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