With the festival season approaching, it was time for everyone to return to their families. Ananya was overjoyed — after months away, she was finally going home.
She reached the bus stand early in the morning, suitcase in hand, eyes scanning the crowd. After a short wait, her bus pulled in, and she climbed aboard. Finding an empty seat, she settled by the window, eager to watch the passing scenery. Moments later, a young man — well-dressed and good-looking — sat beside her. She noticed him, but quickly turned her gaze away, focusing on the bustle outside.
There was no conversation between them, yet Ananya felt a subtle, unexplainable pull toward him. Soon, the bus rumbled to life, and the conductor began collecting fares. When it was the young man’s turn, he casually mentioned to the conductor that he was a civil servant. Ananya overheard, but pretended not to. Slipping in her earbuds, she pressed play on her romantic playlist — the soft, warm melodies blending perfectly with the cool summer breeze that drifted through the window.
The weather felt like poetry. A hint of chill in the air, the sun shy behind clouds — it was the kind of day that made long journeys feel magical. With her eyes closed, Ananya sank into the music, letting her mind wander.
A light tap on her shoulder brought her back. She opened her eyes briefly, glanced at the boy, but he wasn’t looking at her. Perhaps it was just the sway of the bus, she thought, and returned to her music. A few minutes later, another tap — again, no direct eye contact. She ignored it. But the third time, the tap was firmer.
Opening her eyes fully, she turned to find him looking at her, phone in hand. He leaned slightly closer.
“Your number?” he asked softly.
Ananya gave a calm smile and shook her head.
“Please?” he urged.
Her answer remained the same — a polite but firm no.
For a while, silence returned. Then, once again, he asked — this time suggesting even her social media. When his persistence grew, Ananya opened her phone and showed him her contact list, pointing to her boyfriend’s name as if to say, I’m already with someone.
The boy only smiled, reached over, and without warning, gently took one of her earbuds and placed it in his ear. Surprised, Ananya quickly switched from Hindi songs to English ones, thinking, Hindi lyrics might give the moment too much feeling — better to keep it safe.
The journey continued quietly, both sharing the music. Then, in a bold move, he picked up her phone and opened the emergency camera, snapping a picture of his number. Ananya knew his stop was near — she had overheard him telling the conductor earlier.
Just before getting down, he made one last attempt.
“I’m in the police. I could be helpful to you,” he said with a confident smile.
“I don’t like policemen,” she replied lightly.
“We could still be friends,” he offered.
Ananya knew repeating no again would change nothing. So, as the bus slowed, she took his phone, typed in a number, and handed it back. The boy smiled, clearly pleased. Within seconds, he was gone. What he didn’t know was that the number was fake.
As the bus rolled on, Ananya immediately called her boyfriend and narrated the short encounter, expecting him to appreciate how calmly she had handled it. Instead, his voice was sharp:
“Why didn’t you create a scene when he asked for your number?”
The call ended quickly, leaving her with a faint ache in her chest. She had chosen silence over drama, believing that not every uncomfortable moment needed to be turned into chaos. After all, the boy hadn’t crossed any physical boundaries — he had simply been insistent.
She slipped her earbuds back in, letting the music wash over her thoughts. Was she wrong for choosing peace over confrontation? Or was it just that her way of handling things didn’t match what others expected?
Sometimes, she realized, the quietest actions speak the loudest — but not everyone hears them the same way.
