Almost

...Mumbai ...

big city, big dreams. And somewhere in that crowd, two hearts still remembered a name they never said out loud anymore.

Shreya had made her own little world here.

Interior designer by profession, lonely girl by heart. Her days were full of deadlines and client calls, her nights quiet with nothing but a laptop screen and cold coffee beside her bed.

She smiled when people called her “strong,” but deep down, she missed simpler times.

Times when laughter echoed from balconies.

When mangoes were shared in the afternoon sun.

When someone called her name not because they had work — but because they just wanted to talk.

That someone was Shaurya.

Childhood best friend. Neighbour. Her partner in every silly adventure. And now? A stranger lost in memories.

That evening, she walked into a café called Karma Beans. She had a client meeting that got delayed. So she sat by the window, earphones in, sipping coffee. Rain tapped on the glass slowly. The playlist was full of soft, romantic songs — the kind that remind you of someone you used to know by heart.

Far across the same road, Shaurya stepped out of a cab. He was in Mumbai for just three days office trip, conference work. He didn’t like the city much. Too fast. Too loud. But something about today felt… familiar.

He looked around. No idea what. No idea why.

“Let’s have coffee,” he mumbled to himself.

But just then, his phone rang. “Yes sir, I’m heading to the hotel now,” he said and turned, walking right past the café without even noticing it.

Inside, Shreya looked up for a moment.

A strange feeling passed through her.

She couldn't explain it a weird flutter in her chest.

But she shook it off, thinking maybe she just needed sleep.

She went back to work.

Shaurya returned to the same road twenty minutes later. His meeting got postponed. He thought of going to that café again.

But Mumbai had other plans.

Suddenly, clouds burst open the typical Mumbai baarish. Not soft or poetic, just wild and wet. Shaurya ran for shelter into a small bookstore beside the café.

And while wiping his wet sleeves, something hit him not a memory exactly, but a feeling.

He didn’t say her name. But it was there, deep inside.

Shreya.

In the café, she stared out at the rain. Her fingers absentmindedly traced a drop on the glass.

And just like that, she whispered, “Shaurya…” so softly that even she didn’t realise it at first.

The waiter gave her a confused look.

She blinked, smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, nothing.”

Fifteen minutes later, she stepped outside.

He had just left the bookstore.

They crossed the same footpath.

Two strangers now.

One turned left. The other, right.