Listening to Kavya's words, Aarav nods with quiet understanding. He gently opens the wooden gate, glancing back once before stepping outside. The path ahead is open—a raw, dusty trail through a quiet, familiar neighborhood.
He walks without pause, guided only by memory. After some time, he takes a right turn, exactly as Kavya Aunty had instructed. Eventually, a large tree comes into view. Aarav pauses, trying to recall something.
"What did Kavya Aunty say… something about a tree?" he murmurs to himself.
Moments later, the memory returns—he had to turn right at the tree. Nodding to himself, he continues forward until he reaches a main road, now bustling with life.
Shops line both sides: grocery stores, vegetable stalls, a bicycle repair shop, fabric outlets, footwear stands—even bookstores and audio-video shops. Aarav walks attentively, observing everything. Most of the shops had no metal shutters, just wooden gates. A few were closed, locked with heavy iron chains.
People pass by—men pedaling cycles, women carrying bags, a cow ambling near a tea stall. The village hum is alive.
As Aarav walks past the market and into a more residential stretch, he notices that the concrete road here is better paved, laid with block cement. Houses stand quietly, scattered with a few shops.
Suddenly, a group of boys catches his eye. They're walking together, their attention fixed on a metallic device—something between a phone and a tablet. They seemed lost in a game, their fingers darting over the screen.
In a heartbeat, one of the boys stumbles into a shallow pit, knocking the next one off balance. The unintended push causes one of them to trip over a sleeping dog's tail.
The dog jolts awake, barking furiously, startling goats nearby. In seconds, the goats scatter in all directions.
"Catch them! Catch them!" shouts an elderly woman, panic in her voice.
She's accompanied by a middle-aged man, a young boy, and a little girl—no more than eight—trying to herd nearly twenty-five goats. The elderly woman starts counting them anxiously.
"There's one missing!" she exclaims.
"That can't be," the young boy replies, counting again. "You're right, Dadi. One is missing!"
Just then, the grandmother points toward a side alley. A small goat, likely only four months old, is visible at the far end—its coat a lovely mix of deep brown and white.
"I'll bring her back!" the little girl announces and sprints away without a second thought.
Aarav watches in concern. The girl runs recklessly, unaware of the risks. A rickshaw's bell rings sharply, and before anyone can react, she slips and falls to the ground. The rickshaw driver brakes just in time.
"Are you blind, child?! Running like that!" the driver scolds.
"I'm sorry, uncle!" she replies, dusting herself off, blood trickling lightly from a scrape on her knee.
"Someone please check on my granddaughter!" the elderly woman cries out.
Aarav feels a sudden surge of responsibility. Without hesitation, he sprints forward. "Dadi Amma, don't worry! I'll bring your goat—and your granddaughter—back safely!"
Moved by his words, the elderly woman blesses him. "May all your wishes come true, son!"
Following the goat's trail, Aarav sees it climbing up a set of stairs built outside a small house. Despite the sharp stabs of pain from his healing wounds, he pushes forward.
"Hey! Where are you going?! Stop!" he shouts after the goat.
It hops up onto the rooftop, stepping lightly over slanted stone roofing sheets. These sheets slope like a hill, meant to direct rainwater down and away.
He steadies himself, navigating the slippery surface. "It's been years since I've climbed anything like this…" he mutters to himself. Then—he hears the goat again. Its faint bleat pulls him onward.
He knows better than to walk through the center of the roof; instead, he hugs the sides for balance. But just as he begins gaining ground, one misstep causes his foot to slide. Aarav loses balance.
"No, no, no—!" he gasps.
The fragile sheet beneath him gives way with a crack, and he crashes through the roof with a cry of pain. Shards of slate fall around him as he hits the ground below.
Dust rises. Pain radiates through his body. But before he can fully recover, he hears another sound—a gasp. A frightened voice.
As the dust settles, his eyes widen in disbelief. In front of him, a girl stands frozen. Her hair is wet, her expression horrified. She was bathing—he had fallen into someone's private bathroom.
Aarav instantly shuts his eyes. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean— I didn't see anything, I swear!"
As soon as the girl realized she wasn't alone, she instinctively pulled a thin towel around her. It fit her frame just enough to offer some modesty. Her eyes widened in rage as she turned to face the intruder.
"You shameless pervert! Watching a girl while she's showering?" she screamed, her voice sharp with anger.
"I—I didn't know anyone was inside! I came here to catch a goat!" Aarav stammered, raising his hands defensively.
"Liar! I know your type," she retorted, glaring at him with disgust.
"I swear, I'm telling the truth!" Aarav pleaded, attempting to step back. But with his eyes still adjusting, he missed the uneven edge of a broken tile and slipped. His foot skidded on the wet floor, and before he could brace himself, he tumbled forward.
When he opened his eyes, he realized, to his horror, he had landed right over her.
Aarav froze. Time seemed suspended as he panicked, unsure of what to do or say. His breath hitched, and he tried to utter an apology, but before he could speak, her furious voice cut through the silence.
"What exactly are you looking at?! Look me in the eye!"
"Huh? No—I—" Aarav stammered.
He tried to look away, tried to explain himself, but the situation kept getting worse. She struggled beneath him, and in the chaos, his hands unintentionally shifted. He immediately backed off.
"I didn't mean to—believe me!" he said, truly mortified.
Before either could say more, a woman's voice rang out from outside the bathroom. "Gudiya! Where are you, sweetheart?"
The girl's expression turned to alarm. She was about to shout, but Aarav quickly covered her mouth with his hand and whispered, "Please! I swear I was only here because of the goat! This is just a terrible accident."
She blinked, still furious but slightly softened by the panic in his voice.
From outside, her mother continued, "Gudiya? Are you okay?"
"I—uh—there was a lizard, Mom! That's why I screamed," she shouted back, improvising.
Her mother chuckled. "Still scared of lizards? My brave little girl!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be out soon," she said, and turned her glare back at Aarav.
Outside, her father joined the conversation. "What's going on in there? Is everything fine?"
"Everything's fine, Dad," her mother called. "Just our Gudiya getting scared of a lizard again."
Their laughter faded into the distance. Aarav, now still as a statue, sighed in relief.
Just then, she elbowed him lightly, though not without some aggression. "Now that you've had your fill of awkward satisfaction, would you kindly get off me?"
Aarav flushed. "I didn't enjoy any of this! I swear!"
He stood up, and so did she, readjusting the towel more tightly around herself.
"I'm sorry. Really. That was... an accident," Aarav muttered, turning to leave.
"Wait!" she snapped.
He paused.
"You can't just go like that. If someone sees you, they'll assume the worst. Let me get dressed first."
He nodded. "Fine. I'll turn toward the door. When you're ready, let me know."
Ten minutes passed. Finally, her voice came, "Okay. I'm done."
Just as he turned, something hard struck his head.
"Ow!" he groaned, clutching his scalp.
He turned to see her wielding a metal bucket, glaring at him with the fury of a storm.
"You disgusting creep. I didn't tell my parents, but don't think I'll let this go!" she shouted, ready to raise the bucket again.
Aarav, completely panicked, dashed toward the bathroom door, clutching his head.
She chased him, determined, yelling all the while. Their scuffle moved from the bathroom to the hallway, and before they knew it, they'd spilled out into the street.
His side ached, and his leg throbbed with pain, but he didn't stop running until something in his path made him halt.
An eight-year-old girl stood there, holding a small goat in her arms. "Bhaiya! Thank you! We found Chunnu because of you!"
Aarav blinked. "Who?"
The girl smiled and stroked the goat's head. "This is Chunnu. You helped us find him!"
Behind him, the girl with the bucket had paused, her fury dimming as she witnessed the scene.
"If you hadn't come for the goat, we might've lost him," the little girl said, hugging the goat tightly. "Maybe wild dogs would've eaten him."
From afar, another girl called, "Come quick! Dadi's looking for you!"
"Coming!" the little girl said, waving. "Thanks again, bhaiya!"
Aarav smiled and waved back. But the moment he turned around, that smile vanished.
She was still there. Bucket in hand. Her eyes still fierce.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.
"No need to say anything."
He blinked, confused.
"I heard everything the little girl said. So… you were telling the truth."
"I *was* telling you, but you just wouldn't listen," Aarav grumbled.
He began walking away, but she called out, "Wait. One more thing."
He turned. "What now?"
She pointed to his shirt. "What's that red mark?"
Aarav looked down. His shirt was damp. The bandage beneath it had loosened, and a faint red stain was visible.
"Oh no, you're bleeding!" she exclaimed, rushing over.
"It's fine. I'll take care of it," he mumbled.
"No! That wound needs proper dressing. Come with me. I'll help."
"I'm not stepping into your house. You'll just get your whole family to beat me up."
"Don't be ridiculous," she said, exasperated. "If you didn't do anything wrong, then why would I let anyone hurt you?"
"Maybe you're just waiting for the right moment," Aarav muttered.
She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you're more dramatic than I am."
He raised an eyebrow. "You sure? You were the one chasing me with a metal bucket."
She smirked. "Touché. But still, let me help. I may have overreacted, but you're hurt. Come inside."
He hesitated, but something in her voice—concern, guilt, maybe even a bit of reluctant respect—made him nod.
As they walked toward her house, Aarav couldn't help but think about how bizarre and chaotic the last half hour had been. What began as a search for a goat had turned into a storm of misunderstandings, insults, and unexpected compassion.
He glanced at her, and for the first time, she didn't seem angry. Instead, she looked thoughtful.
"By the way," she said suddenly, "I still don't trust you fully."
"That's fair," he replied with a shrug. "I wouldn't trust me either after... that."
She let out a short laugh.
And in that moment, the chaos faded just a little.
Aarav gave a faint smile, still clutching his side where the injury throbbed beneath the soaked bandage. The girl's expression, once blazing with fury, now showed concern beneath a stubborn frown.
"Wait here," she said firmly. "I'll bring the first-aid kit. Don't move."
Before he could argue, she was gone. Aarav leaned back against the wall, sighing. What a day. From chasing a goat into the wrong bathroom to nearly getting hit with a metal bucket — his life felt like a comedy script gone wrong.
Moments later, she returned, holding a small box and a towel. Without a word, she knelt down, her hands steady as she dabbed at the wound. "You're lucky you didn't fracture something," she muttered, eyes focused on the task.
Aarav watched her in silence. There was something about the way she moved — irritated yet gentle, annoyed yet careful.
"Thanks," he whispered finally.
She didn't look up. "Don't think this means I've forgiven you."
"I didn't think you had," he replied with a sheepish smile.
A faint smirk tugged at her lips. "Good. You're smarter than you look."
Aarav chuckled, despite the pain. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't the worst accident after all.