The following days passed in a mix of work and fleeting encounters. Anjali continued capturing the life of Varanasi, while Aarav became a constant presence in her new routine. Sometimes he accompanied her on her excursions; other times he simply appeared to share a chai at the end of the day. The relationship between them deepened, and the connection they initially felt transformed into something stronger, more tangible.
One day, Aarav invited her to a local festival, one of those events that don’t appear in tourist guides but are the soul of the city. On the night of the festival, the streets were decorated with hanging lights, and the air was filled with the aroma of street food and the sound of traditional music.
Anjali felt part of something bigger, of a community that, although new to her, accepted her without reservation. As they danced under the stars, surrounded by laughter and songs, Aarav took her hand. The gesture was so natural that Anjali felt she had been waiting for that moment for a long time.
«Would you stay in Varanasi?» Aarav suddenly asked, his voice barely audible over the music.
Anjali looked at him, surprised by the question and the urgency in his tone. She didn’t know what to say. She had come to the city intending to capture its essence in photos, not to get entangled in her own emotions. But now, with Aarav by her side, the idea of leaving everything behind and staying didn’t seem so far-fetched.
«I don’t know,» she replied honestly. «But every day I feel more connected to this place… and to you.»
Aarav nodded, as if that was the answer he was expecting. The night continued, but the question lingered in the air, without a clear answer.
