(7:30 PM)
The Chandigarh University Canteen, affectionately known as 'The Junction,' was buzzing with students in the early evening. The air was filled with the smell of burgers, chai, and the collective buzz of new aspirations.
Shubham absolutely detested holding a project meeting in such a crowded place, but Rajat had insisted.
"Come on, bro! This is where the magic happens! The perfect mix of studying and socializing!"
Shubham settled down at a quiet corner table, carefully arranging his laptop and notes. He checked his watch. 7:35 PM.
"Rajat! They said 7:30 PM. And you know I am a stickler for..."
"Yeah, yeah! I know! You are the high priest of discipline and punctuality." Rajat cut Shubham off with a chuckle.
He was preoccupied with his phone.
Shubham sighed deeply. "If they are more than five minutes late, I will send them right back. Carelessness is unacceptable."
Exactly at 7:40 PM, Tisha, Ritika, and Isha entered the canteen. Tisha's face looked slightly drained, while Ritika was, as usual, brimming with confidence.
"Sorry, guys! A little late," Ritika said with a smile.
Shubham immediately checked his phone, where a stopwatch was running. "A 10-minute delay. And if you call that 'a little,' I'm already apprehensive about your work ethic." His voice carried the same cold, critical tone.
Tisha couldn't stand the tone. She raised an eyebrow. "You don't need to be apprehensive, Mr. Shubham. We get the work done. We don't just pretend to 'study' like you."
"I don't need to pretend. My grades speak for themselves," Shubham retorted instantly.
Rajat quickly intervened.
"Peace, peace! Boss and Sub-Boss! Come on, sit down and start. This is an 'Economics' project, not an 'Ego' project."
Isha stepped in to maintain the calm. "Please! We have to work together. Shubham, we will be on time next time. Tisha, calm down."
Tisha mumbled under her breath but took a seat.
"Alright," Shubham said in a professional tone. "Our project topic is 'The Future of Indian Startups.' I have the entire data and research framework ready. We just need to..."
"Stop!" Tisha interrupted him. "Just data and framework? Is this a school project? Startups aren't just Excel sheets, Shubham. They are about passion and creativity."
"And passion or creativity don't get you grades, Tisha," Shubham shot back, firing a logical arrow. "The Professor requires accurate figures and correct analysis.
Your 'passion' might be good for decoration."
"Oh! So my creativity is only for 'decoration'?" Tisha's voice rose.
"Perhaps that's why you can never inject color into anything—because you only see things in black and white!"
"And you see no colors at all, which is why you're always confused," Shubham countered again.
Suddenly, Tisha's eyes looked slightly moist. Shubham had intended it as a sarcastic taunt, but Tisha felt as if he had touched upon her vulnerability—the feeling that she genuinely struggled to grasp things quickly.
Shubham noticed it.
His strict demeanor softened for a fleeting moment. He immediately changed his words. "I mean... that's not what I meant. I meant we should focus on the data right now."
That small moment—when Shubham quickly averted his eyes and altered his words—went unnoticed by everyone except Tisha.
She felt that perhaps, underneath this 'machine,' there was a hint of humanity. This was the first faint unheard heartbeat, buried beneath the thick blanket of their conflict.
The heated argument between Shubham and Tisha gave Rajat the perfect opportunity to jump in.
"Alright, listen up! Stop this boring debate. I have a creative idea," Rajat announced happily.
Ritika immediately rolled her eyes. "Your idea? I think your best idea would be to pay someone else to do all the work."
"Oh! Miss Extrovert! Why are you always after me?" Rajat asked with mock innocence.
"Because you're always in front of my eyes, Mr. Romeo," Ritika retorted with a smirk.
"Come on, Rajat's idea might have some creativity," Isha said kindly.
"Yes! Listen! Why don't we create a short video interview series on 'Chandigarh's Top 5 Startups'? It will make our project visual and interesting," Rajat explained enthusiastically.
Shubham was quick to dismiss it. "Video? This is a BBA project, not a YouTube channel. We won't get marks for that."
But Tisha's face brightened. She was artistic, and she loved the idea.
"I like this idea! We shouldn't present it only with data, but with real stories. It needs emotion!"
"See! At least someone understood me!" Rajat looked pointedly at Ritika. "And this idea came to me when I was watching an Instagram Reel..."
"Yes, yes! We know where all your knowledge comes from," Ritika quipped.
"Fine," Shubham conceded reluctantly, "if we are to do this, it requires a separate team. Tisha, this will be the test of your 'creativity.'
You and Rajat will handle this visual/interview part. Rajat, you know about cameras and technical things."
Rajat adjusted his collar. "Yes! I am on it!"
Ritika immediately objected.
"Oh no! Rajat? Is this a serious project or a joke? Tisha, how will you work with him?"
"Why? Do I seem that bad to you?" Rajat deliberately provoked her.
"Yes! You seem very bad. You turn everything into a joke!" Ritika snapped.
Shubham delivered the final verdict. "Ritika, you are good at data organization and editing.
You will help Isha and me with the data collection part. This keeps the project balanced."
Tisha and Shubham didn't completely escape each other, but they did get a chance to keep their work separate.
With the project responsibilities distributed, everyone got up to leave.
Tisha picked up her diary and sketchpad. Shubham observed how carefully she held her notebook, as if it were her most precious possession—just as he guarded his notes.
It was another subtle, unheard heartbeat glimmer: both were intensely dedicated to their passions, even if those passions were different.
As Tisha turned, her hand accidentally hit Shubham's water bottle. The lid wasn't properly closed, and a few drops splashed onto Shubham's organized notes.
"Oh! Sorry!" Tisha genuinely apologized this time.
Shubham looked at his notes. The ink had started to run. His face hardened again.
"Your 'sorry' won't bring back my effort, Tisha! I don't understand why you are so careless? You know the difference between a 'mistake' and 'carelessness,' don't you?"
"Yes, I do! But I am a human, Shubham! I am not a robot like you, incapable of making any mistakes!" Tisha shot back.
She felt like Shubham was deliberately attacking her character.
"Being a robot is better if it means the work is perfect," Shubham said, wiping his notes with a handkerchief, though the damage was done.
"Perfect!" Tisha rolled her eyes. "That's all life is to you, isn't it?"
Shubham quickly tucked the notes for the night into his file and started to walk away.
Rajat looked at Tisha. "Don't worry, buddy. He's just too serious."
Just then, Ritika nudged Rajat with her elbow. "And you are too... illiterate. The two of you are not 'passion and mischief,' but 'chaos and destruction'."
"Oh! My future girlfriend! You pay so much attention to me!" Rajat laughed, walking out with Ritika. Ritika acted annoyed, but a faint smile played on her lips.
Walking outside, Shubham felt his heart beating strangely fast. It was more than just anger. He kept replaying the argument in his mind.
She called me a robot.
But when he looked at the water mark on his notebook, he also remembered Tisha's moist eyes. He felt he might have been a bit too harsh.
"I wish... I wish she were a little less careless."
Meanwhile, Tisha, sitting on her scooter, spoke to Isha, "I don't want to see his face, Isha. He just boils my blood."
Isha smiled gently. "The more you say you don't want to see his face, the more his face appears before you.
Perhaps the universe also wants you two to need each other."
Tisha didn't start her scooter for a moment. Need? Did she really need that arrogant, perfect guy?
The first project, the first argument—and the faint sound of the first 'unheard heartbeat' remained suppressed, like the water marks scattered on the canteen table.