Aryan Malhotra 10:55 AM Hi Professor Rao, I was scrolling through some discussions on Indian writing in English and postcolonial themes last week. Your comment on the piece about identity and language really stood out — thoughtful and precise. I’m new to Pune (shifted from Delhi about a month ago for work) and thought it might be nice to connect with someone who clearly appreciates good literature. No pressure at all if you’re busy. Just genuine appreciation.
He hit send and immediately felt nervous. What if she thinks it’s weird? What if she blocks me too like the others? He changed his shirt quickly and went back outside, trying to act normal while his phone burned in his pocket.
The family played more colours in the afternoon. Kalpana got a big splash of yellow on her saree from a neighbour’s child. She laughed, the sound light and genuine, and Keshav felt his stomach twist when she wiped some colour from her neck, her fingers brushing the soft skin just above her cleavage. Fuck. Even covered in colours she looks… He pushed the thought away and focused on playing with Sonam and some kids from the building.
Around 3:30 PM, while everyone was resting and washing off colours, Keshav checked his phone again in the bathroom.
She had replied.
Kalpana Rao 2:14 PM That’s very kind of you to say. I teach English literature at a private college here in Pune, so these topics are close to my heart. Moving to a new city can feel isolating at first — I hope Pune is treating you well so far. What kind of work brought you here, if you don’t mind me asking?
Keshav’s pulse quickened. She was engaging. Not just a polite one-line reply. He sat on the closed toilet lid, heart racing, and typed back carefully. He kept “Aryan’s” background plausible but not too close to his real life.
Aryan Malhotra 3:28 PM Thank you for asking. I’m a corporate lawyer — recently joined a firm here that handles a lot of logistics and infrastructure cases. The work is interesting but the city still feels new. Delhi had its own rhythm; Pune feels greener, calmer in some ways. I’ve been trying to explore the literary scene a bit to feel more settled. Your students must be lucky to have a professor who actually cares about the subject beyond the syllabus.
He sent it and waited, staring at the screen like a teenager. Why am I this nervous? It’s just chat. But it’s Mom. She doesn’t know it’s me. She’s replying because she thinks I’m some decent guy who likes books. The guilt mixed with a strange thrill. Downstairs he could hear Sonam laughing with friends. His mother’s voice floated up occasionally as she spoke to the maid about dinner.
Another reply came after about forty minutes.
Kalpana Rao 4:12 PM That’s a thoughtful observation. Most students these days are more focused on grades and placements than on actually engaging with the texts. It’s refreshing when someone appreciates the depth. I’ve been teaching for nearly eighteen years now — it keeps me busy, which is good. My husband travels quite a bit for his business, so the house can get quiet in the evenings. Reading and the occasional conversation like this help.
