In those 5 Minute.

"Tuesday"

Chapter 2

I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Days passed, and every time I walked that same route to the library, my eyes searched for her, hoping I’d see her again. Maybe it was just curiosity, or maybe it was something more—something I wasn’t ready to face just yet.

And then, a week later, I saw her again.

I was walking back from the library, a couple of books weighing down my bag, when I spotted her. She was sitting on a bench in the park near the bus stop, writing in a small notebook, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration. But there was something calming about her presence—something that made me pause.

There she was—*woh ladki*, the one who had been stuck in my head ever since that day. The way she looked so lost in her own world, completely unaware of the chaos around her, pulled me in again.

I hesitated, wondering if I should approach her. But then, as if some unseen force pushed me forward, I found myself walking up to her.

When I got close, she looked up, her eyes meeting mine. For a moment, everything around us felt distant—the *shor* of the city, the rustling leaves—it all faded away. She gave me a soft, curious smile.

“Hey,” I managed to say, my voice quieter than I intended.

She blinked, then smiled a little wider. “Hey.”

I didn’t know what to say next. *Yeh kya kar raha hoon main?* But she didn’t seem to mind. She closed her notebook, slipping it into her bag, and stood up.

“I’ve seen you around,” she said casually, like it wasn’t a big deal.

I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

She nodded. “Haan, at the library. Tum aksar waha rehte ho, right?”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, you could say that.”

There was a brief pause, but it wasn’t awkward. It felt... *theek*, like we were just figuring each other out.

“I’m Shreya,” she said, extending her hand.

“Satyam,” I replied, shaking her hand gently.

For a few moments, we stood there in comfortable silence. I wasn’t used to this, but something about it felt natural. Not forced, not rushed.

“What do you usually read?” she asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, genuinely curious.

“Philosophy, mostly,” I answered, watching her reaction closely. Her eyes lit up a bit, like she was interested.

“Philosophy?” She tilted her head slightly. “Like… kaunsa?”

“Right now, Nietzsche. His ideas about the will to power... about khud ko badalna—overcoming yourself. They make sense to me,” I said, suddenly aware of how serious I sounded.

She nodded, a small smile on her face. “That’s... deep. I’ve read a little of Nietzsche too. Heavy stuff.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, definitely not halka.”

We both laughed, and the air between us lightened. For the first time, I felt like I didn’t need to put on a mask. I could just be… me.

“What about you?” I asked, motioning toward her bag. “Woh notebook... what do you write in there?”

She hesitated for a second, glancing at the bag. Then she gave me a shy smile. “Just… thoughts. Kuch aise cheezein jo main keh nahi paati.”

I nodded, understanding completely. There was something in her words that struck a chord with me, like she had voiced something I had felt but never said.

The connection between us was subtle, but it was there. I could feel it—kuch toh tha, though we didn’t quite realize it yet.

As we stood there, surrounded by the quiet noise of the park, I knew this was just the beginning of something I couldn’t quite put into words yet.