A Moment of Stillness

July 30, 2009 – 10:00 AM

OmniLink Headquarters, Salt Lake, Kolkata, India

Aritra sat at the head of the long conference table, his fingers lightly tapping against the polished wood as his team rushed to implement the necessary changes to OmniLink's operations in China. The meeting room was filled with department heads, each providing rapid updates on their tasks.

"Server localization is in progress," Rajesh Malhotra, the Head of IT, confirmed. "We've already begun migration to China-based data centers. Compliance documentation is being finalized."

"Good," Aritra nodded. His gaze flickered to Aditya Verma, Head of Content Moderation. "What about content regulation?"

"Adjustments are being deployed," Aditya responded. "Age-restricted access has been integrated. Real-name authentication is in development, but we'll need to fine-tune it to avoid disrupting existing users."

Aritra sighed, rubbing his temples. "We need this done quickly, but smoothly. No crashes, no user panic. Keep a close eye on engagement data."

Ishita, standing at the far end of the room, gave him a knowing glance. "We'll get it done, Aritra. We always do."

Aritra exhaled and pushed back from the table. "Alright. I'll check back for updates this evening."

The meeting wrapped up efficiently, but his mind still buzzed with unfinished tasks. He needed a moment to breathe.

July 30, 2009 – 4:30 PM

Aritra's Residence, Jadavpur, Kolkata

The late afternoon sun bathed the narrow streets in a golden glow as Aritra stepped onto his balcony, the warm air carrying a faint humidity that clung to his skin. The distant hum of rickshaws mixed with the occasional honk of traffic, while the rhythmic rustling of leaves from the Dakuriah Lakes behind his house added a sense of calm. The aroma of street food—roasted peanuts and fried pakoras—lingered faintly, blending with the scent of his freshly brewed tea. The weight of the last few days settled into his bones—one storm after another, never allowing a moment of peace.

A soft breeze from Dakuria Lakes swept through the air, carrying with it the faint scent of water lilies. The sound of distant honking and chatter melted into the background as he took a slow sip of tea, letting the warmth soothe his frayed nerves.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, there was silence.

And then his phone rang.

He frowned, setting his cup down before glancing at the screen.

Katherine Blackwood.

He hesitated for a second before answering. "Hello?"

"...Hi."

A slight pause. The awkwardness was palpable, and Aritra almost smirked at how even at his mental age of 30s, this was still unfamiliar territory.

"Didn't expect a call from you," he admitted.

"Yeah, well... neither did I." Katherine's voice held a mixture of hesitation and something softer—uncertainty?

Aritra leaned against the railing, watching a pair of birds take flight from a nearby tree. "So, what's up?"

A small sigh came through the receiver. "I, um... I need to go shopping for the wedding. Clothes, jewelry, all that. But I don't know anyone here. No family, no friends in Kolkata. And..." She hesitated. "I don't know anything about Bengali culture."

Aritra blinked. Of all the things he expected, this was not one of them. He had assumed their first real conversation would be about something far more formal—negotiations, agreements, logistics. Instead, it was about wedding shopping. There was something oddly human about it, something that made him pause. Did she genuinely have no one else to rely on, or was this her way of bridging the gap between them? Either way, he wasn't about to refuse.

"You want me to take you shopping?" he asked, amusement creeping into his tone.

"Well, yes," she admitted, though her voice carried an edge of stubbornness, as if she didn't like having to ask. "Who else do I ask? The driver?"

Aritra chuckled softly, rubbing his jaw. "Fair enough. New Market? You sure you trust my taste in shopping?"

Katherine let out a small huff. "I'm not looking for fashion advice, just someone who knows their way around. And someone who can translate if needed."

Aritra smirked. "Alright, I'll be your guide. But fair warning—Bengali weddings are extravagant. Be prepared for a lot of silk, gold, and chaos."

She groaned lightly. "I was afraid of that. I don't even know where to start. Do I have to wear a saree?"

"It's traditional, yes. But if you're not comfortable, there are other options. A lehenga, maybe?"

"Saree sounds... complicated. But I guess I should at least try."

Aritra chuckled again. "That's the spirit. We'll find something that works. Don't worry, I'll make sure you don't get scammed by overenthusiastic shopkeepers."

She paused for a moment before responding, her voice a little softer. "Thanks, Aritra. Really."

His smirk softened into a small smile. "Anytime."

There was a slight pause, then she said, "Eleven?"

Aritra considered for a moment. "That works. But are you sure you'll be okay with the chaos of New Market? It can get pretty overwhelming."

Katherine sighed. "I don't really have a choice, do I? If I want to fit in at a Bengali wedding, I need to at least try. Besides, I doubt I'll get used to anything sitting in this house doing nothing."

Aritra smirked. "True enough. Alright, I'll pick you up. Just be ready to handle aggressive shopkeepers."

She let out a small laugh. "That bad?"

"Let's just say, if you don't bargain, you're basically asking them to rob you."

Katherine groaned. "Great. Another thing I'm clueless about."

"Relax, I'll handle that part. You just focus on picking what you like."

She hesitated before replying, her voice quieter. "Thanks, Aritra. I mean it."

He leaned against the railing, watching the sky darken. "Anytime, Katherine."

She let out another short laugh, this time a little less uncertain. Aritra found himself unexpectedly at ease. For the first time, their conversation felt natural—less about obligations and more about two people figuring things out together. He hadn't anticipated this moment, but he didn't mind it either.

"See you tomorrow, Aritra."

"See you, Katherine."

The call ended. Aritra placed his phone down and reached for his tea, now slightly cold. He shook his head, still processing the conversation.

It was a simple request. Shopping.

Yet somehow, it felt like the beginning of something else.

To be continued...