After Meera and her family left, I stood still at the threshold of my house for a long moment, as if their presence had left behind an echo I could not shake off. The courtyard felt strangely quiet now, though just minutes ago it had been filled with polite greetings, the sound of her parents’ voices mingling with mine, and Meera’s hesitant laughter. I could still see her in that green saree—soft silk catching the late afternoon sunlight, making her seem like she carried a piece of spring with her.

I wasn’t sure what to call the feeling that lingered in me. It wasn’t love—I knew enough of the world to recognize that love was something far deeper, something that needed time and closeness to grow. And yet… I could not deny that there was a gentle fondness blooming somewhere inside me, quiet but persistent. She had been shy, her gaze often dropping whenever I caught her looking at me, but in those fleeting moments when her eyes did meet mine, I had seen warmth. It stirred something in me, something I wasn’t ready to name.