The Note on the Page

Sat, 11 Oct 2025 11:39:05 +0000

The air in the Literature Department’s old wing settled into a rhythm as steady as the monsoon’s drizzle. Meera slipped into her routine: morning lectures in the stone-walled classroom, a packed lunch eaten quickly at an empty table, and the afternoon hours devoted to the library, her true sanctuary. Ayan had, to her quiet relief, kept his distance since the Freshers' Night, a respectful retreat that allowed her anxiety to subside, but also, surprisingly, left a small, cold emptiness where his presence used to be.