allyshba
Twenty-five, unmarried, and the eldest daughter in a Delhi household, the same bumpy rickshaw ride, the same crowded metro, the same tele caller job that her neighbours mistake for something shameful. Her life is monotonous, predictable, suffocating. Until one morning, a stranger starts taking her route. Same metro. Same time. Same station. At first, it's just an observation. Then it becomes a pattern she can't ignore. Then it becomes something she can't name, something that disrupts the careful numbness she's built around herself. He doesn't know her story. He doesn't know about the broken phone screens, the judgemental aunties, the weight of being the responsible one. He's just there, every single day, like a question she's afraid to answer.
In a life lived between stations, where every day bleeds into the next, this unnamed thing, this pull toward someone who exists outside her world of duty and sacrifice, threatens to derail everything she's convinced herself she doesn't deserve.
A sharply funny, achingly honest story about the eldest daughters who hold families together while falling apart themselves, and what happens when something, or someone, makes them wonder if there's more to life than just surviving it.