chapter 3

Aarti Mehta stepped out onto her balcony, cup of chai in hand, savoring the calm morning air of Ahmedabad. Her new balcony felt like a blank slate, waiting for life to fill it. She stared at the empty space, mentally sketching ideas for cozy furniture and plants.  "Maybe a few hanging planters here," she murmured, tilting her head, "and a money plant in that corner."  Before she could daydream further, a sharp rustling sound caught her attention. She turned toward the adjoining balcony and spotted Kabir Singh fiddling with a row of potted herbs. He was crouched near the edge, rearranging the plants with intense concentration.  "Careful there," she said aloud, unable to stop herself.  Startled, Kabir looked up, his hand jerking slightly. A small pot teetered on the edge of his railing.  "Wait, wait—" he said, reaching out to grab it. But before he could, the pot toppled over, bouncing across the narrow gap between their balconies and landing squarely on Aarti’s side.  The terracotta pot cracked but didn’t break entirely, spilling soil across her tiles. A sprig of mint stuck out awkwardly from the mess.  Kabir froze, still crouched. "Oh, no."  Aarti placed her cup of chai on the railing, her eyebrows raised. "Well, good morning to you too."  Kabir stood up quickly, brushing his hands on his shorts. "I am *so* sorry. I swear this doesn’t usually happen. My pots don’t have a habit of… jumping ship."  "Jumping ship?" Aarti folded her arms, trying to keep a straight face. "Are you sure you didn’t just *push* it over to make an impression?"  Kabir laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Believe me, if I wanted to make an impression, it wouldn’t involve dropping mint on your balcony."  "Could’ve fooled me," she said, glancing at the mess. "Do you have a plan for cleaning this up, or should I start charging you a maintenance fee?"  "Maintenance fee?" Kabir asked, his grin widening. "Wow, tough crowd."  Aarti smirked. "Well, I didn’t invite your plants to crash onto my side, did I?"  "Point taken," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I’ll clean it up. And as an apology, I’ll replace the pot. Maybe even throw in a bonus plant."  "A bonus plant?" she asked, leaning against the railing. "You’re really going all out, aren’t you?"  "Hey, I’m a man of my word," he said, walking toward the low divider that separated their balconies.  Before Aarti could ask what he was doing, Kabir climbed over the divider effortlessly, holding a small dustpan and brush he’d grabbed from his side.  "Wait—what are you doing?" she asked, startled.  "Cleaning up my mess," he replied matter-of-factly.  "You can’t just climb over like that!"  "Why not?" he said, crouching to sweep up the soil. "It’s faster than going through the front door. Plus, we’re neighbors now—this divider might as well not exist."  Aarti stared at him, hands on her hips. "That’s not how it works. There’s such a thing as personal space, you know."  Kabir glanced up at her with a grin. "Relax. I’m not stealing state secrets. I’m just rescuing my poor mint plant."  She sighed, shaking her head. "You’re unbelievable."  "And you’re surprisingly calm for someone whose balcony was just invaded by an herb," he shot back, carefully collecting the spilled soil.  Aarti fought back a laugh. "Fine. I’ll admit, this is a first. Most neighbors just knock on the door and introduce themselves. You, on the other hand, decide to send plants flying."  "Think of it as an icebreaker," Kabir said, standing up with the cracked pot in hand. "A little unconventional, sure, but effective."  "Sure," Aarti said dryly. "If by effective, you mean mildly chaotic."  Kabir walked back toward the divider, still grinning. "Chaotic’s my middle name."  "Good to know," Aarti replied, crossing her arms. "But next time, try to keep the chaos on your side of the balcony, okay?"  "Deal," he said, climbing back over to his side. "And don’t worry, I’ll bring you a new plant later. Something easy to care for."  "Something easy?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do I look like someone who can’t handle a plant?"  Kabir chuckled. "Not at all. But you strike me as someone who’s busy enough without having to worry about fussy greenery. Trust me, I’ve got just the thing."  "We’ll see," Aarti said, leaning against the railing as she watched him return to his herb arrangement.  "Until then," Kabir called over his shoulder, "enjoy your chai, Ms. Mehta."  "And try not to drop anything else, Mr. Singh," she replied, shaking her head.  As the morning breeze carried on, Aarti found herself smiling faintly. For a man who had literally thrown chaos onto her balcony, Kabir Singh wasn’t entirely unbearable.  Kabir, on the other hand, couldn’t stop grinning. His new neighbor was sharp, quick-witted, and definitely interesting.  And so, the stage was set for a connection that neither of them could quite predict.. To be continue...