chapter 12

The sun peeked over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the city of Ahmedabad. The faint hum of traffic began to fill the air as Aarti stepped onto her balcony, her mug of chai steaming in her hands. She was still in her pajamas, her hair tied in a loose braid, as she leaned against the railing, letting the crisp morning air wake her up.  “Good morning, Mehta,” Kabir’s voice called out, breaking the serenity.  Aarti turned to see him standing on his adjoining balcony, holding his own mug of chai. He looked unusually fresh, his t-shirt slightly wrinkled but his grin as charming as ever.  “You’re up early,” she said, raising an eyebrow.  Kabir smirked. “What can I say? I’ve got this new morning motivation—chai and my chatty neighbor.”  Aarti rolled her eyes, sipping her tea. “Chatty? That’s rich coming from you. I can’t get a word in most of the time.”  “Hey, I’m a conversationalist. Big difference,” Kabir said, pulling a chair close to the railing and sitting down.  Aarti chuckled and settled into her own balcony chair. “So, this is what we do now? Share chai and argue first thing in the morning?”  Kabir leaned back, grinning. “Why not? Beats scrolling through my phone. Plus, I get to hear your endless opinions about everything.”  “Endless opinions?” Aarti said, feigning indignation. “Says the guy who gave me a ten-minute lecture on the ‘right way’ to make chai.”  “Okay, that’s different,” Kabir said, holding up his mug. “Chai is an art form. And admit it, my adrak chai is better than yours.”  Aarti narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t push your luck, Singh. You might be good, but my chai has soul.”  Kabir laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Fair enough. But let’s be real—you keep me around for my chai expertise.”  Aarti smirked. “And you keep me around for my taste in plants. I mean, look at your tulsi. It’s thriving because of my tips.”  Kabir glanced at the tulsi plant on his balcony, its leaves green and vibrant. “Fine, you win this one. But only because I don’t want to start my day with an argument I can’t win.”  “Wise choice,” Aarti said, taking another sip of her tea.  For a few moments, they sat in comfortable silence, the city waking up around them. The faint honking of cars and the chirping of birds created a soothing backdrop.  “So, what’s the plan for today?” Kabir asked, breaking the quiet.  “Work,” Aarti said with a sigh. “I have a client meeting in the afternoon and some designs to finalize. You?”  Kabir shrugged. “I have a food review to write and a recipe video to shoot. Thinking of doing something with Gujarati flavors. Maybe dhokla pancakes or something fusion-y.”  Aarti raised an eyebrow. “Dhokla pancakes? Is that even a thing?”  “It will be once I’m done with it,” Kabir said confidently. “But I’ll need an official Gujarati to taste-test it.”  Aarti laughed. “Lucky for you, I might know someone. But only if you promise to keep it vegetarian.”  “Deal,” Kabir said.The sun climbed higher in the sky, and as they finished their tea, Kabir leaned on the railing. “You know, this might just be the best part of my day.”  Aarti glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. Mine too.”  They stood there for a while longer, basking in the simple joy of their morning ritual and later got consumed by their works. . To be continue...