Shadows Of The Stumps

Chapter - 101

The silence in the room stretched, thick and heavy, as Harry hesitated, his gaze flickering between Meera and the shadows dancing on the walls. Before he could respond, the door creaked again. Shubman, Virat, and Rahul stepped in, their hesitant movements breaking the tension like ripples disturbing still water.

The warm yellow glow seemed to intensify, deepening the contrast between the rustic wooden walls and the vibrant energy within the space. The air carried a richer scent now—dhoop mingling with lavender, layered with something intangible yet deeply familiar. It wasn't just a smell; it was a memory wrapped in sensation, tugging at the corners of Meera's mind.

Her breathing hitched again as her eyes settled on the far side of the room. A woman about her age moved with effortless grace, practicing classical dance at the center. Her vivid red ghungroos gleamed under the light, jangling with each precise step. On either side of her, two others dressed in plain anarkalis followed her lead, their movements harmonious yet unassuming. Around them, the melodic strains of a sitar and the steady rhythm of tablas filled the air, played by musicians sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Meera's gaze lingered on the woman in the center. Something about her felt like an echo, a reverberation from a time Meera didn't want to remember. The sharp edges of the memory made her head pound, her throat tightening as she struggled to keep her composure.

Rahul's eyes immediately found Meera in the dim room. His brow furrowed with concern as he took a step closer to her, but his attention was quickly drawn to the scene in front of him. The music and movement created an almost hypnotic tableau, and the woman in the center turned, her sharp eyes settling on the group.

She stopped mid-movement, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she walked toward Harry with the confidence of someone who had known him far too long.

"Long time, Hardik Himanshu Pandya," she said, her voice lilting yet precise, laced with equal parts teasing and challenge.

Harry groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, yeah, Tani. Give me a break, will you?"

The woman— Tanistha, apparently—chuckled lightly, her gaze flicking to the others. There was something piercing in the way she looked at them, as though she could read more in a glance than most people could in an hour. Harry shifted awkwardly before introducing her.

"Everyone, this is Tanistha," he said, gesturing toward her. "Tani, meet Virat, Shubman, and Arjun."

Arjun nodded, his voice calm but his attention barely registering her. "Nice to meet you," he said before his eyes wandered again, landing on Meera. She stood apart from the group, her body tense, her fingers curling unconsciously at her sides.

Meera took a step forward, almost as if pulled by an invisible force. The scent of lavender and dhoop seemed to thicken, enveloping her as flashes of something she had tried to bury surfaced unbidden. Images danced at the edges of her mind—blurred faces, whispers, and the jangling sound of ghungroos.

Tani's gaze lingered on her for a beat longer than necessary before she turned back to Harry with an arched brow. "Bas kaam padne pe hi yaad kar," she said, her tone lighter now, almost amused.

But Meera wasn't listening. She took another step forward, her head pounding as the walls of the room seemed to ripple, the yellow light distorting her vision. Her breathing grew shallow, and the familiar rhythm of the dance morphed into a cacophony, dragging her deeper into memories she had long since locked away. Her chest tightened as if the space itself was closing in around her.

"Meera," Rahul's voice broke through, soft and steady, cutting through the din in her mind. She didn't turn.

"Meera," he called again, firmer this time.