They are both fifteen.
From different cities. Different lives.
Mumbai is not his home—just a place he is visiting for a short while.
It is afternoon.
The sun is soft, spreading a warm golden light across the city. The weather is unusually beautiful—clear sky, light breeze, a rare calm in the middle of Mumbai's rush.
The boy is standing near the bus stop with his cousin, looking around at a city that doesn't belong to him. In a few days, he will leave and return to his own city, carrying nothing more than memories.
A bus slows down.
Inside the bus, a girl his age is standing near the window, on her way home. Sunlight falls across her face as she looks outside, absent-mindedly watching the road.
Then she sees him.
At the same moment, the boy looks up.
Their eyes meet.
The afternoon freezes. The city quiets. The breeze seems to stop. From a distance, under the soft sunlight, two strangers look at each other—both fifteen, both unaware of the feeling forming quietly inside them.
No words.
No smiles.
Just a deep, silent connection.
The bus starts to move.
For a second, she hesitates—then, just before the distance grows too wide, she smiles.
It is small. Gentle. Almost shy.
The boy doesn't smile back. He is too surprised, too still—but he sees it. And that smile stays with him as the bus pulls away.
She disappears into the crowd and sunlight.
He remains there, holding a moment he will never forget.
They don't know each other's names.
They don't know they are from different cities.
But in that beautiful Mumbai afternoon…
to them, the other felt like the only one.