Chapter Two: Cities Apart, Closer Than They Knew
662 Words
The next morning in Ahmedabad, Pakhi sat with her laptop balanced on her knees, sipping chai by the window of her rented flat. The early sunlight spilled across the buildings, but her mind was already running through deadlines.
Then came the ping.
Incoming Call: Rehaan Shaikh – Client Team
Her breath caught for a moment. She hadn’t expected to hear from him again so soon—definitely not one-on-one.
She adjusted her posture and clicked Accept.
“Hello?” she said.
“Hi, Pakhi. Hope I didn’t catch you off guard,” came Rehaan’s calm voice, smooth as always, this time a little softer—maybe it was the morning quiet in Bangalore on his end, or maybe something else.
“Not at all,” she replied, quickly setting her mug aside. “What’s up?”
“I was reviewing the module handoff for Phase One. "There’s a small gap in the flow, and I thought it might be better to talk it out directly instead of dragging it through endless emails.”
Pakhi grinned to herself. She liked that about him already—efficient, but human.
“Smart move,” she said. “I have the document open. Walk me through where it’s breaking for you.”
The next ten minutes were filled with logic, dependencies, integration points. Focused. Crisp. But it was how he spoke to her that caught her attention more than what he said.
There was no condescension, no corporate stiffness. He listened, clarified, even joked once when she struggled to remember a term.
“Don’t worry,” he chuckled. “I forget my own passwords most days. You’re allowed one brain freeze.”
She laughed, and that small shared moment, in the middle of debugging work flowcharts, felt... warm.
He asked, as she scrolled, “Are you working from home in Ahmedabad?”
“Yeah,” she said, relaxing a bit. “The city’s always loud but my flat is quiet in the mornings. And you?”
“Bangalore,” he said. “Though I think my neighbor’s dog believes in daily barking drills.”
She chuckled. “So you’re calling me for peace, not work.”
“Exactly,” he deadpanned.
They paused, unintentionally, both smiling into their own spaces. The air between them shifted just slightly—like the moment after a good line in a song, just before the chorus hits.
“I have to say,” Rehaan added, “You’ve caught on to things pretty quickly. Most new folks take a while to sync. It’s been, what, a day?”
“Not even twenty-four hours,” she said, mock-proud. “But thank you. That means something coming from you.”
“From me?” he asked, amused.
“You seem like someone who doesn’t praise unless it’s earned.”
He was quiet for a second. “You’re right about that.”
Another pause.
She could hear faint traffic on his end—probably from his balcony, or maybe a window cracked open. It was oddly comforting.
Finally, he said, “Thanks for jumping on this so quickly. You saved me from writing a very long email.”
“Anytime,” she replied.
There was something honest in the way she said it. Like she meant it for more than just project alignment.
“Well then…” he said slowly, as if he wasn’t quite ready to end the call.
“Well then,” she echoed.
A soft laugh on both ends.
“Talk soon, Pakhi.”
“Soon, Rehaan.”
The call ended. But unlike most work calls, it didn’t vanish from her mind. It stayed. Hung there. Like an unfinished thought.
She stared out the window again. Ahmedabad buzzed below, as life carried on like any other weekday.
But somewhere in Bangalore, a voice she barely knew had already carved a small space in her day.
Still unseen.
Still just a name on her screen.
But strangely—starting to matter.
- Writer
