A few days later, following the same schedule as always, Navya was coming back from her coaching center. She looked at the time on her wristwatch; it was 8 o'clock in the evening. She stood at the corner of the street where she usually got an auto to reach home. Unfortunately, there was no sign of any auto.
"Don't tell me ye log hartaal pr chale gye (these people are on strike)," she muttered angrily, as she was running late. After waiting for some time without any luck, she decided to walk a bit and reach the main road. Soon, she started walking forward. The coaching center was in an area with a sparse population, and it was eerily quiet in the evenings. She knew she'd find more people once she reached the main road.
After a few minutes, she stopped in her tracks, startled by the sound of commotion of vehicles. She remembered hearing news reports about crimes like murder, pickpocketing, and snatchings in the area. Nervously, she clutched the strap of her handbag tightly.
She turned around—and froze on the spot.
A bike was speeding straight toward her. The rider, helmet on, looked alarmed, waving frantically for her to move. But her legs wouldn’t listen.
Then— Boom.
Impact.
Both she and the bike rider went down.
He tumbled a little farther away with the bike skidding beside him, letting out a pained groan as he hit the ground.
She landed hard on her side. A scrape burned across her elbow, and she hissed under her breath as the sting set in.
She pushed herself up slowly, dust sticking to her palms. The sting in her elbow flared again, but she forced her eyes toward the rider.
He was also trying to sit up, wincing as he held his shoulder.
“Are you blind or what?” he snapped, more shaken than angry. “Why were you standing in the middle like a statue?”
She flinched at his tone but managed and replied sternly,
“What about you? Who the hell rides like this? Formula 1 ki race hai kya?”
“Brakes fail ho gaye the!” he retorted, frustration spilling out.
Before she could argue back, he yanked off his helmet—cracked badly at the side from the crash.
Her eyes widened.
“YOU!!”
He frowned, confused. “Do you… know me?”
Navya gulped, suddenly aware she had just blasted him like he was a stranger on the street.
“Y-Yes… I’m from your college,” she managed awkwardly.
He didn’t respond much—just gave a short nod, like he didn’t care who she was at the moment. He turned toward his fallen bike, grabbed the handle, and tried to lift it.
The moment he pulled, his injured shoulder jerked painfully. He hissed, face tightening.
Navya’s chest twisted with guilt.
If she hadn’t stood frozen like an idiot, he wouldn’t have fallen this badly.
But another part of her whispered—
Good thing he fell here. Otherwise he would’ve crashed straight onto the main road and gotten seriously hurt.
Still… the guilt won.
Navya hurried forward.
“Wait—don’t. Your shoulder’s hurt,” she said, stepping beside him.
He stubbornly tried again. “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”
“It’s clearly not fine,” she shot back, grabbing the bike from the other side. “At least let me help.”
He paused, breathing hard, then let out a reluctant sigh. “Fine. But don’t drop it.”
She glared. “I’m helping you, not doing weightlifting. Just lift slowly.”
Together they lifted the bike upright. He winced again but didn’t complain this time.
“Thanks,” he muttered quietly, brushing dust off the tank.
Navya looked at his shoulder, then at the helmet, then at the scratches on his arm. “You should sit for a minute. You’re not okay.”
He shook his head. “I need to get home before this thing gets worse.”
She hesitated. The guilt was eating her alive now.
“Should I… call someone for you?” she asked, voice softer.
He looked at her properly for the first time. “No. It’s okay.”
But the way he held his shoulder clearly said it wasn’t.
Without wasting time, she pulled out her scarf from her bag and tied it tightly around his shoulder to stop the bleeding.
"Maybe it's karma hitting him hard," she thought to herself.
She suggested to him, “There is a clinic nearby.”
“I’ll get treated after reaching home. No need for that,” he told her.
Ghar jate-jate swarg—oops, I mean nark—na pahunch jaaye, came her inner self.
“You are bleeding too much. You might faint before reaching home,” she tried to convince him— and succeeded.
He held onto the handle of his bike; he couldn’t just leave it there.
They started walking slowly. Ranveer was struggling to even keep up because of his injuries. After a moment of silence, he spoke.
“I didn’t even ask your name. What’s your name?”
“Navya Thakur,” she said. “I’m from the Media and Communication department.”
Ranveer nodded like he finally placed where he had seen her.
They reached the clinic soon. The doctor bandaged his shoulder. While getting treated, he noticed her elbow.
“Dress her wound too,” he said to the staff.
She tried to refuse, but he didn’t listen.
After everything was done, he pulled out his card to pay.
“We don’t accept cards, sir,” the staff said.
“What—seriously?” Ranveer muttered.
Before he could say anything else, Navya stepped forward and paid the bill.
"Cards aren't accepted in many places of this area" She told him
"I'll give you cash later" He said, she just nodded
Navya didn’t argue. Instead, she glanced at his shoulder bandage, then her own elbow. “Are you sure you’re okay to leave now?”
“I’ll manage,” he said shortly, hoisting his bike slightly to test it. It wobbled under his weight, and he winced.
“Need me to walk with you to the main road?” she asked, a little hesitantly.
He hesitated, then finally said, “Yeah… fine.”
They started walking again, the air between them quiet except for the sound of their steps. Neither spoke much. Navya kept glancing at him, worried he might stumble, while Ranveer focused on keeping his balance.
After a few minutes, they reached a busier road. Ranveer stopped, resting his hand on the bike. “Thanks… I guess,” he said, not meeting her eyes.
Navya nodded. “Be careful. And… try not to do any more stunts like today.”
He smirked faintly, almost imperceptibly. “No promises.”
He pulled out his phone and started dialing, clearly calling someone.
Navya stepped aside and stopped a taxi for herself.
She opened the door and got in, glancing back at him briefly. “Take care of yourself,” she said, her voice steady but not soft.
“I will,” he replied shortly, still focused on his phone.
The taxi drove off, leaving him standing there with his bike and his injuries, while Navya disappeared into the traffic.
Time Skip
When Navya reached home, she was greeted by the worried faces of her family. It was unusually late for her, and the moment they spotted the bandage on her elbow, their expressions changed completely.
She quickly explained everything—how the accident happened, how she helped the rider, and how she got her own injury. Her parents pulled her into a relieved hug.
“But next time, try to inform us, beta,” her father, Vikram, said gently.
Her mother cupped her face, brushing her thumb over her cheek. “We just get worried.”
“I will, Dad. Promise,” Navya said softly.
They were just about to sit down for dinner when little Aryan came running in, panic all over his face.
“Didi! What happened? Why are you so late? You didn’t even call!”
Navya couldn’t help smiling at his worried tone. “I’m fine, Aryan. Really. Something unexpected happened, that’s all. I’m home now.”
He let out a big breath, then pouted. “Next time, please tell me if you’re going to be late. I got scared.”
“I promise,” Navya said, ruffling his hair. “Now go wash your hands. Dinner time.”
Aryan grinned and ran off, and Navya finally sat with her parents. Dinner
felt warmer, calmer. Everyone just grateful she was safe.
Later, they all went to bed with lighter hearts, thankful the day had ended without anything worse happening.
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