chapter 5

Aarti sat cross-legged on her balcony, a steaming cup of chai in her hands. The city buzz of Ahmedabad had finally quieted down, leaving behind a soft hum of distant traffic and the occasional bark of a stray dog. Her fairy lights, which she had hastily strung up earlier that evening, cast a warm glow around her.  Sleep, however, was nowhere to be found.  She sighed and leaned back against her chair, letting the calm night air wash over her. It had been another long day of work, and while her body was tired, her mind refused to rest.  On the other side of the divider, Kabir’s voice broke the silence. "So, fairy lights, huh? Didn’t peg you as the cozy aesthetic type."  Startled, Aarti turned to see Kabir leaning casually against the railing of his balcony, a mug in his hand. His own fairy lights twinkled behind him, reflecting off the cluster of plants around him.  "I could say the same about you," Aarti shot back, recovering from her surprise. "What’s your excuse for being up this late? Can’t sleep?"  Kabir shrugged, taking a sip from his mug. "You could say that. Insomnia and I are old friends. Plus, late nights are when the city feels… different, you know? Calmer."  Aarti nodded, her gaze drifting to the city skyline. "Yeah, it’s like the whole world finally takes a deep breath. I’ve always loved this time of night."  "Exactly," Kabir said, his voice warm. "There’s something about the quiet. No deadlines, no phone calls. Just… peace."  Aarti chuckled. "Except for your plants judging me. They look way too perfect under those lights."  Kabir grinned. "Hey, don’t let them intimidate you. They’re nice plants. They’ll warm up to you once you get your garden going."  She smiled, taking a sip of her chai. "Let’s hope so. I don’t want them gossiping about me behind my back."  "Plants gossip?" Kabir asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.  "Of course," Aarti said, deadpan. "Your basil’s probably already complaining about the time you almost dropped it on my balcony."  Kabir laughed, the sound echoing softly in the quiet night. "Alright, touché. But for the record, my basil forgave me. It’s very understanding."  "Good to know," Aarti said, her lips curving into a small smile.  They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that felt natural despite their brief acquaintance. The faint sound of a scooter passing by and the rustling of leaves filled the gaps between their words.  "So," Kabir said, breaking the silence, "what’s your late-night drink of choice? Chai, coffee, or something fancy like green tea?"  "Chai," Aarti said without hesitation. "Always chai. You?"  "Chai, obviously," Kabir said, holding up his mug like a toast. "Coffee’s too serious for me, and green tea tastes like boiled grass."  Aarti laughed. "Finally, someone who understands. I tried green tea once—never again. It felt like I was punishing myself."  "Exactly!" Kabir said, his enthusiasm making her laugh harder. "Why torture yourself when you can have the real deal? Masala chai, ginger chai… it’s practically a hug in a cup."  "Couldn’t agree more," Aarti said, taking another sip. "So, do you make your own chai, or are you one of those food bloggers who orders it from some trendy café?"  Kabir raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, I take my chai very seriously. I even have my own secret spice blend."  "Secret spice blend?" Aarti repeated, intrigued. "Now I’m curious."  Kabir leaned closer to the railing, lowering his voice as if sharing a conspiracy. "It’s a family recipe. Passed down through generations of chai lovers."  Aarti played along, her eyes narrowing. "And you’re not going to share it, are you?"  "Not a chance," Kabir said with a mischievous grin. "But if you’re nice, I might make you a cup someday."  "Deal," Aarti said, smiling. "But only if you let me guess the ingredients. I have a pretty good palate, you know."  Kabir laughed. "You’re on, Ms. Mehta."  The two of them settled back into their respective spaces, sipping their chai under the glow of their fairy lights. The divider between their balconies seemed less like a barrier and more like a shared boundary, a line that connected them instead of separating them.  "You know," Kabir said after a while, "this isn’t a bad way to spend a sleepless night. Good chai, good company… I could get used to this."  Aarti glanced at him, her smile softening. "Me too."  And as the night deepened, their quiet conversation carried on, weaving an unexpected bond between two insomniac neighbors under the glow of their lantern-lit balconies.  . To be continue...