The weather in Delhi was thick with humidity. It seemed like it would rain by evening. Ishika heard the thunder but before that she felt it on her skin.

She could feel the humidity in the air and the way the wind grew heavy. 

She stopped at a flower stall. She pointed to a bunch of bright yellow marigolds. 

"35 rupeeye madam!"

(Rs. 35 madam!)

The vendor told but she frowned and shook her head. She held up two fingers.

"20."

She had brought the same flowers the previous day. He grumbled, but muttered a reluctant 'Ok' and she smiled in victory.

A few kilometers away, Eshaan was walking through the same market. He stepped into a small, quiet cafe to escape all the noise. He sat in a quiet corner, and pulled out his book.

But he couldn't focus on the book. He remembered his mother's words from the previous day.

Achhi dost hai? Teri aankhein bhut bolne lagi hai aaj kal

(Is she a good friend? Your eyes talk a lot nowadays.)

He realised he had been looking out of the window, searching for someone in the crowd. He had been doing that everytime he was out for the past few months now, even though he had never seen her in real life.

He only knew how she looked because of the small, blurry profile picture on their app. A girl with a messy bun a paint-smudged nose.

Just then, it started raining. And it wasn’t a light drizzle. It was a heavy downpour.

The cafe door swung open, and a girl rushed in, shaking her wet umbrella. Eshaan stopped breathing.

It was her. Ishika. He couldn't believe it. She was real. Real and in front of him. 

She didn't notice him. She took a seat by the window, just three tables away from his. She looked exactly like she did in her profile picture. He couldn't avert his eyes from her.

She wiped a little water from her forehead. She didn't look around but simply stared at the rain hitting against the window, her hand resting against it, as if feeling it against her skin.

Eshaan felt a wave of giddiness wash over him. His hands started to shake slightly. His heartbeat increased. 

'She's real. She's right there. In front of me.'

He felt a wild urge to stand up, go to her table and introduce himself.

But then, the doubts crept up. His throat felt tight. If he went over, what would he do? He couldn't say hello. He couldn't even tell her his name.

He would have to pull out his notebook and write it down for her. And the thought of her seeing his struggle made his stomach flip with nervous. What if she realised that the online Eshaan was much better than the real one?

He watched her pull out her sketchbook and start to draw something.

The same night, back in his room, Eshaan laid on his bed, staring at his phone. It was still raining outside, when his phone buzzed. It was her.

Aaj baarish kitni tez hai na. It went to a cafe and drew the rain. It was so peaceful. I wish tum bhi dekh paate wo baarish.

(The rain is so heavy today….I wish you could have seen the rain.)

Eshaan sat straight, his heart racing on remembering that he saw her. He looked at the message, then toggled the screen and looked at the picture he clicked of her from across the cafe. 

He didn't tell her he was there. Not yet. He started typing back, his fingers shaking slightly.

I know how it feels, Ishika. I think rain always does that to you.

He leaned his head against the bed. He was scared for the day they would finally meet. It felt like he was keeping a secret from her.

In Ishika's house, her father, Rajesh, sat in his usual armchair, pretending to read something on his phone, but his eyes were constantly moving towards his daughter.

She wasn't drawing today. She was typing on her phone, pausing to think, then smiling. A deep, genuine smile that reached her eyes and stayed.

Rajesh looked at his wife, who was sipping her tea, while gazing at her daughter. He lowered his phone and sighed softly.

"Kavita, dekho! Aaj kal phone se hat ti hi nhi hai. Kisse baatein krti rehti hai ye?"

(Kavita, look! She doesn’t get off her phone nowadays. Who does she keep talking to?)

Kavita smiled, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Toh achha hai na. Kitni shaant rehti thi pehle. Ab kam se kam kisi se baat toh kr rhi hai. Kitni khush lag rahi hai."

(Its’ good. She was so silent earlier. At least she is talking to someone now. She looks so happy.)

Rajesh felt a wave of protectiveness in his chest. As a father, he had spent years being Ishika's ears. he was the one who stood taller when they went to crowded places, shielding her from people who didn't understand her.

He always feared that the world would be too harsh for his daughter, that someone might take advantage of her kindness or find it difficult to communicate with her. 

"Darr lagta hai, Kavita. Pata nhi kisse baat krti hai. Kaun hoga? Kaisa hoga? Bhut masoom hai meri bachi. Koi fayda na uthaye."

(I am scared, Kavita. God knows who she talks to. Who would it be? How would he be? My daughter is very innocent. I don’t want anyone to take advantage of her.)

He watched Ishika giggle at her phone, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. She didn't laugh often, but it always melted his heart.

He realised that for the first time, he didn't have to make a lame joke to hear that laughter. That she had found someone who can do it by merely typing a few words.

On the other hand, Eshaan's mother, Sunita, was standing by the kitchen door, watching her son.

Eshaan was sitting at the dining table, his dinner forgotten as he stared at his phone with a soft, dreamy expression.

Ever since he lost his voice at  the age of 5, the little, energetic boy she had known, became like a wall. He couldn't express his feelings and so he became less excited about things.

The little boy, who once loved parties and used to yell at the top of his voice due to excitement on hearing about a party, became a shadow in family gatherings. 

But lately, the shadow was coming to light. Sunita walked over a placed a hand on his shoulder. Eshaan jumped in surprise, coming out of his dreamland and smiled sheepishly at his mother.

"Khaana thanda ho raha hai beta. Kisse baat kr raha hai?"

(The food is getting cold. Who are you talking to?)

Eshaan quickly clicked his phone shut, his face turning pink. He picked up his spoon and started gulping his food down, his eyes darting back to his phone repeatedly.

Sunita sat down besides him. Her heart felt heavy yet light at the same time. She remembered her little boy, who cried as a child because he couldn't tell the other kids he wanted to play.

"Jo bhi hai...usse bolna maine puchha uske baare mai. Aur kabhi ghar pr laa usse. Mai bhi toh milu mere bache ki dost se."

(Whoever she is…tell her that I asked about her. And call her home someday. I also want to meet my son’s friend.)

She teased, stressing on the word 'dost'. Eshaan's eyes widened. He shook his head quickly, his hands moving rapidly in sign language.

Nhi maa. Abhi nhi. Abhi toh mai mila bhi nhi hu usse. Aur hum sirf dost hai. Aisa kuch nhi hai jaisa aap soch rhe ho.

(No ma. Not yet. Even I haven’t met her yet. And we are only friends. There’s nothing like what you are thinking.)

Sunita put her hand forward and caressed his head.

"Dosti bhi toh badi baat hai beta. Koi toh hai jo mere iss shaant bache ki baatein samajh paa raha hai. Mere liye wo bhi kaafi hai."

(Friendship is also a big thing. There is someone who is able to understand my quiet child. That is enough for me.)

Eshaan looked at his mother, his eyes filling with a few tears. He gave her a small nod. He was happy that his parents understood his connection with Ishika. 

When he went back to his room, he felt courageous all of a sudden. His mother's words rang in his eyes and he felt that he was not just a boy who couldn't speak.

He was someone who was loved for exactly who he was.