Patliputra Science College was buzzing with excitement. A long-awaited educational trip to Rajgir had been announced for all second-year Zoology students. Three days of travel, two nights of camping, and the added thrill of hiking up Vishwa Shanti Stupa. For most, it was a break from routine.

For Aradhana, it was a mixture of nervousness and excitement. She had never travelled without her parents before. Her mother was reluctant, of course.

"Ladkiyon ke liye aise trip safe nahi hote. Raat bhar ka camp bhi hai?"
( Trips like these aren't safe for girls. You'll be staying overnight too?)

"Maa, sab classmates ja rahe hain. Professors bhi honge."
( Maa, all classmates are going. Even professors will be there.)

Sushila wasn't convinced, but Tarun Jha stepped in.

"Aru ko ghoomne ka bhi haq hai. Hamesha padhai padhai karti hai."
(Aru deserves to travel too. She's always buried in studies.)

With a reluctant nod and a bag full of parathas and advice, Aradhana left home early the next morning.

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The bus was loud—songs blasting from a speaker, students singing along, some even dancing in the aisle. Aradhana sat by the window, headphones in, trying to block out the noise. But her peace was short-lived.

Nilkanth, Kunjh, and Ganesh entered the bus fifteen minutes late, carrying chips, cold drinks, and unnecessary swagger.

"Yeh seat khaali hai?" Nilkanth asked, pointing next to Aradhana.

( Is this seat empty?)

She nodded without looking at him. She didn't want to admit it, but her heart skipped a beat.

He sat, careful not to crowd her.

"Paratha laayi ho?" he whispered.
( Did you bring parathas?)

She rolled her eyes.

"Khaane ke liye tumhe dost nahi banana padega," she replied.
(You don't have to be my friend just to eat my food.)

He laughed quietly. "Dost banna bura thodi hai."
(Being friends isn't a bad thing.)

For the rest of the ride, they said little. But in the silences, something simmered.

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The group reached Rajgir by afternoon. After sightseeing and a short hike, they returned to their campsite. Tents were assigned randomly—two students per tent, boys and girls separated.

That was the plan—until the storm arrived.

Heavy winds and rain blew half the tents away. Everyone rushed for shelter. Professors tried their best to keep students safe, reshuffling temporary sleeping arrangements in a nearby forest lodge.

But there were more students than space.

"Just one last tent left," Professor Bedi said, holding a dripping clipboard. "Aradhana and... Nilkanth, you'll have to share."

Everyone froze.

Aradhana's eyes widened. "Sir, par—"
(But, sir—)

"I know, I know. But you're the only ones left and the tent is big. Sleep at opposite corners. It's just for one night."

Nilkanth looked at her. For once, he said nothing.

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The rain outside was deafening. Inside, the tent was dimly lit with a single torch propped up against a bag.

Aradhana sat curled in one corner, hugging her shawl. Nilkanth lay on the other side, staring at the roof.

After minutes of silence, he spoke.

"Tu mujhse itni nafrat kyun karti hai?"
(Why do you hate me so much?)

She looked up, surprised.

"I don't hate you," she said honestly. "I just don't understand you."

"Good," he said. "Because I don't understand myself either."

Aradhana turned to face him. For the first time, he wasn't joking. His voice was softer. Real.

"Log sochte hain main awara hoon. Par main sirf thaka hua hoon. Ghar se, duniya se."
( People think I'm a vagabond. But I'm just... tired. Tired of home, tired of the world.)

She didn't respond right away.

Then she said, "Tumhari aankhon mein dard dikhta hai. Shayad isiliye tum duniya se chhupte ho."
(I can see pain in your eyes. Maybe that's why you hide from the world.)

He turned toward her, startled.

For the first time, someone saw through him.

"Aur tum? Tum itni seedhi ho ki kabhi kabhi dar lagta hai. Tum sach mein kisi aur duniya ki ho."
( And you? You're so straight-laced, sometimes it scares me. Like you belong to another world.)

Aradhana smiled faintly. "Main bhi dar jaati hoon... par galat se ladne ka darr nahi hota."
( I get scared too... but never when standing up for what's right.)

They didn't speak after that. The rain poured, and two souls quietly sat under one roof—no longer strangers, not yet lovers.

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The rain had washed the world clean. Sunlight filtered through wet leaves as birds chirped like it was spring.

When the students saw Aradhana and Nilkanth emerging from the tent—fully dressed, slightly awkward but calm—the teasing began immediately.

"Kya baat hai!"
( Oh, what's this!)

"Yeh trip toh successful ho gaya!"
( This trip was a success after all!)

But both ignored the laughter. Because something had changed.

No, they hadn't touched. They hadn't confessed.

But they had opened a door.

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As the trip ended, Aradhana began avoiding him again. Not out of anger—but confusion. Her feelings had become a tangle of fear and desire. And Nilkanth, respecting her silence, didn't chase her.

Until one afternoon.

He waited outside her classroom.

"Ek chai pe chalogi mere saath? Dost ke roop mein."
( Will you come for tea with me? Just as a friend.)

She looked into his eyes.

"Sirf chai?"
(Just tea?)

"Promise."
(Translation: Promise.)

She smiled, but didn't replied.