Lines Begin to Blur

Malik walked the streets of Kasab like before, but something had changed. He could feel eyes on him. The city no longer looked the same.

The mechanic's shop was gone. The football field still stood, but the games felt different. Even Raju had stopped showing up.

One evening, as Malik sat on a bench near the bazaar, a familiar voice spoke behind him.

"You made the right choice."

Malik turned. The slim man.

He sat beside Malik, lighting a cigarette. "Most people take the money. They don't think past tomorrow."

Malik didn't respond.

The man exhaled smoke. "Kasab is changing. The old ones are falling. New ones are rising. And in between…" He looked at Malik. "Men like you."

Malik met his gaze. "I don't work for anyone."

The man smiled. "That's what makes you interesting."

He stood up. "Soon, you'll have to pick a side. Whether you want to or not." He tossed his cigarette away and walked off.

Malik sat there, staring at the streets. The noise of the bazaar, the smell of fried food, the distant laughter of children—Kasab still moved like before.

But the city's heartbeat had changed.

And deep down, he knew his time as an outsider was running out.