Shailaza's Blog

Tag: science fiction

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixteen: A Different Kind of Battle

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixteen: A Different Kind of Battle

    The drive back was quieter than usual, not awkward, but contemplative. Arin kept glancing at Astha from the corner of his eye, still processing everything he had seen earlier. Her warmth, the way people gravitated toward her, the way she disarmed them with humor and made them feel valued—it was something entirely different from the guarded, reserved woman she seemed to be at work.

    Astha, oblivious to his observations, was busy scrolling through her phone, checking a message from Shanaya.

    “She’s reminding me to bring ice cream,” she muttered. “Like I’d dare go home without it. The wrath of a teenager is not something I’m prepared to deal with.”

    Arin smiled. “Wise decision.”

    As they pulled into the parking lot, Astha unbuckled her seatbelt. “Thanks for the lift, but I’m warning you—this doesn’t mean you get permanent errand duty.”

    Arin leaned back against his seat, a slow smile forming. “I’ll take my chances.”

    She rolled her eyes, stepping out of the car. Arin followed, carrying a few bags despite her protests. As they made their way upstairs, the moment they stepped into the hallway, the door to Astha’s apartment flew open.

    “Ice cream?” Shanaya asked immediately, eyes darting to the bags.

    Astha sighed dramatically, handing over a small tub. “Your lifeline, madam.”

    Shanaya grinned. “You live to fight another day. Oh, hey, Arin! Did Mom make you carry everything? She’s a master at delegation.”

    “I’m starting to see that,” Arin replied dryly.

    Astha gave him a pointed look. “I don’t hear any complaints.”

    Shanaya laughed. “You poor, poor man. Welcome to the club.”

    Astha shook her head, then turned to Arin. “Since you’re already here, might as well stay for dinner. Shanaya’s cooking.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow at Shanaya, who nodded. “Oh yeah, I’m a culinary genius. As long as you like burnt toast, slightly overcooked pasta, and the occasional fire hazard.”

    Astha patted her daughter’s head. “We set low expectations, so when the food turns out edible, it feels like a win.”

    Arin chuckled, feeling something warm settle in his chest. This—this effortless banter, this sense of belonging—it was something he had never truly experienced before. And he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to step away from it.

    Astha led them inside, tossing her bag onto the couch. “Alright, let’s see if we make it through this meal without the smoke alarm going off.”

    Arin glanced around the cozy apartment, the scent of home-cooked food already filling the air. For someone who had spent his life surrounded by sterility and precision, this chaos, this warmth, was something entirely foreign.

    And yet, he found himself wanting more of it.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifteen: The Ride Home

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifteen: The Ride Home

    The next evening, as they wrapped up work, Astha turned to Arin just as they stepped out of the office.

    “I have some errands to run for my family. You don’t have to wait. I’ll take an auto home,” she said matter-of-factly, already fishing her phone out of her bag to book a ride.

    Arin, who had been walking beside her, stopped. “I don’t mind waiting.”

    Astha paused and gave him a flat look. “You realize that could take hours? I have to go to the pharmacy, the grocery store, and pick up something for Shanaya. I won’t be quick.”

    “It’s fine,” Arin said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I’ll wait.”

    Astha narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you one of those people who thinks chivalry means making life inconvenient for yourself? Because, just so you know, I am perfectly capable of—”

    “It’s not chivalry,” Arin interrupted smoothly. “It’s efficiency. You’ll already be exhausted after running around. It makes sense for me to drive you home rather than have you wait for an auto.”

    Astha sighed and shook her head. “You know, for someone who claims to be efficient, you really like making things more complicated than they need to be.”

    Arin smiled. “I could say the same about you.”

    Astha exhaled in mild exasperation but didn’t argue further. “Fine. But don’t complain when I make you carry grocery bags.”

    “Duly noted,” Arin replied, his expression unreadable, but his eyes glinting with amusement.

    And so, for the first time, Arin found himself tagging along with Astha, watching her navigate the small, everyday routines of her life—things that were unremarkable to her but utterly fascinating to him.

    As they went from one shop to another, Arin observed something unexpected. Astha had a way with people, a quiet charisma that wasn’t forced but felt entirely natural. At the pharmacy, the staff greeted her with familiarity, and within moments, she had the usually gruff pharmacist chuckling at one of her wry remarks.

    At the grocery store, she bantered with the vendor, making light-hearted complaints about the price of vegetables while deftly convincing him to give her the freshest produce at a discount. “Come on, Bhaiya, I practically keep your shop running. The least you can do is not charge me extra for looking like I have expensive taste.”

    The man laughed, shaking his head. “Aap toh humesha jeet jaati hain, Astha Madam. (You always win, Astha Madam.)”

    “Well, someone has to,” she said with a dramatic sigh, making the vendor chuckle even more.

    Arin watched, marveling at this side of her. He had always known her as sharp, reserved, sometimes distant. But here, surrounded by familiar faces, she was warm, kind, and—dare he say it—charming. She made people laugh, not in an over-the-top way, but with quiet, clever humor that seemed to disarm even the most reluctant of souls.

    By the time they reached the final stop, Arin found himself carrying half her bags, despite his earlier amusement at her threat. “This was planned from the start, wasn’t it?” he asked dryly.

    Astha smiled. “I make people do my bidding by being nice to them. Works every time.”

    Arin shook his head, amused. “Noted. I’ll have to be more cautious next time.”

    She tilted her head. “Or you could just accept that you’re doomed like everyone else who knows me.”

    For the first time in a long time, Arin didn’t mind the idea of being ‘doomed.’

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Thirteen: A New Ally

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Thirteen: A New Ally

    Shanaya Mehra was a whirlwind of energy, laughter, and quick-witted remarks—traits that often exasperated her mother and endeared her to others. At seventeen, she had inherited Astha’s sharp mind and love for words, but where her mother was reserved, Shanaya was unfiltered, never hesitating to speak her mind.

    It was on one such afternoon that she ran into Arin Verma for the first time. She had just returned from a study session with her friends, her backpack slung over one shoulder, when she spotted the new neighbor locking up his apartment.

    She tilted her head, studying him with open curiosity. “You’re the new guy, right? The editor?”

    Arin turned, momentarily surprised by her directness. “That’s right. And you must be Shanaya.”

    Her eyes lit up. “Ah, so Mom told you about me. Don’t believe everything she says—I’m far more brilliant and much less of a troublemaker than she claims.”

    Arin smiled. “Duly noted.”

    Shanaya fell into step beside him as they walked toward the elevator. “So, since you’re an editor, that means you’re good with words, right?”

    “I suppose you could say that.”

    “Great,” she said, grinning mischievously. “I need a teammate.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “A teammate?”

    “Scrabble. Mom beats me every single time. It’s infuriating. I need someone who can match her brain and give me a fighting chance. And since you literally work with words for a living, I’d say you qualify.”

    Arin considered this. He had never played Scrabble before, but he understood the mechanics of language better than most. More than that, he found himself intrigued by Shanaya’s vibrant enthusiasm.

    “Alright,” he said finally. “I’ll be your teammate.”

    Shanaya pumped a fist in the air. “Yes! Finally, I have a chance at victory. This is going to be legendary.”

    As they stepped into the elevator, Arin glanced at her, a quiet curiosity growing within him. He had spent all his time trying to understand Astha, but perhaps the best way to do so was through the people she loved.

    And Shanaya, with her infectious energy and unfiltered thoughts, might just be the key.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Eleven: The First Ride

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Eleven: The First Ride

    The next morning, Astha walked out of her apartment, adjusting the strap of her bag as she made her way to the parking lot. She wasn’t particularly excited about the carpool arrangement, but she had agreed to it without much thought. These initiatives never lasted anyway.

    As she neared the car, she found Arin already waiting, leaning against the driver’s side with his usual composed expression. He gave her a polite nod before opening the door. “Morning. Ready to go?”

    She slid into the passenger seat, buckling up as she adjusted her glasses. “Sure. Let’s get this over with.”

    Arin started the car, the engine humming softly as they pulled out of the parking lot. The silence between them was not awkward, but rather filled with an unspoken understanding—neither was particularly interested in forced small talk.

    Astha glanced out of the window, watching the city wake up. “So, what’s the plan? You drive this week, I drive next?”

    Arin nodded. “That’s what we agreed upon. Unless you’d prefer a different arrangement.”

    “No, this works,” she said with a shrug. “Just don’t expect me to be chatty in the mornings.”

    Arin’s lips twitched in what might have been amusement. “Noted.”

    They continued the drive in comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the faint hum of the radio. Astha appreciated that Arin didn’t feel the need to fill the space with unnecessary conversation. He drove smoothly, his focus unwavering, as if even this simple task was part of a greater purpose.

    Astha found herself sneaking a glance at him. There was something about the way he carried himself—calm, unshaken, yet strangely observant. It was as if he was always paying attention, always trying to piece together the world around him.

    As they approached the office, Arin finally spoke. “Would you like me to pick you up in the evening as well, or would you prefer to manage your way back separately?”

    Astha considered for a moment before responding. “Might as well keep it simple. Pick me up when you leave.”

    Arin nodded, as if he had expected her response. “Alright.”

    The moment the car came to a stop in the office parking lot, Astha was already unbuckling her seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride. See you later.”

    Before he could respond, she was out the door, making her way inside without a second glance.

    Arin watched her go, a faint trace of curiosity flickering in his expression. She was different from anyone he had met before—unmoved by his presence, indifferent to the little changes he was introducing into her life.

    And that only made him want to understand her more.