Chapter 6 Part 2 – A Coincidental Table
The first day of lectures dragged on till noon. By the time the last bell rang, the new students of Software Engineering were drained—scribbled notes, strained eyes, and rumbling stomachs.
Arjun Rathore leaned back in his chair, stretching until his bones cracked. "If this is just the first day, I don't even want to imagine the rest."
Raghav Chauhan chuckled quietly. "You barely wrote two lines in your notebook."
"That's because geniuses don't need notes," Arjun shot back, slinging his bag over one shoulder. "Come on, I'm starving. Mess food can wait. Let's find something edible outside."
The idea found quick support. Aditya Sharma, who had been sitting a row behind them, overheard and leaned in.
"Outside food? Count me in. The mess looked like a war ration today."
Raghav hesitated, looking at the time. "We'll need to be back before the afternoon session."
Arjun grinned. "Relax, Chauhan. It's just lunch, not an expedition."
So, the small group—Arjun, Raghav, and Aditya—headed toward the university gate. The campus road was alive with students streaming out, rickshaws honking, and vendors shouting. A row of dhabas and small restaurants lined the street just beyond the boundary.
They finally ducked into a modest yet lively eatery, filled with the chatter of students. Ceiling fans whirred overhead, carrying the aroma of spices and frying oil.
"Perfect," Arjun declared, claiming a table near the window.
Just as they were about to sit, they noticed another trio of students approaching with trays in hand—Aditi Verma, along with Megha Kapoor and another boy from their class, Kunal.
The eatery was packed, and only Arjun's table had free chairs.
"Looks like we're short on space," Aditi said, scanning the room. Her eyes settled on the three empty chairs at Arjun's table. "Mind if we join?"
Raghav looked at Arjun, silently asking for the lead. Arjun leaned back in his chair, a sly grin spreading across his face. "It's your lucky day. Pull up a chair."
The six of them settled together. For a moment, the air was thick with that quiet awkwardness of strangers forced into proximity. But food has a way of breaking barriers.
Aditya started first, complaining about the professor's heavy lecture. "Seriously, Sharma sir speaks like he's delivering a court judgment. My brain gave up after ten minutes."
Megha laughed. "That's because you weren't listening. He was making perfect sense."
Arjun leaned in, pointing his spoon like a commander with a sword. "No, no, no. The man talks like he's narrating a mystery novel. Suspense at every comma. Keeps us guessing whether he'll reveal the code or just scold us."
Everyone burst into laughter—even Aditi, who usually carried herself with a calm composure.
The plates arrived—thalis stacked with steaming rotis, dal, and sabzi. Conversation flowed more easily with every bite.
Kunal introduced himself properly, telling them he was from Jaipur. Megha was from Chandigarh, first in her family to pursue engineering. Aditya was from Delhi, where, in his words, "traffic teaches you patience better than meditation."
Finally, Raghav spoke up, his tone quieter but steady. "Rajasthan, originally. But most of our childhood was in Himachal Pradesh. That's where Arjun and I grew up."
Aditi tilted her head slightly, curious. "So you two have been friends since childhood?"
Arjun didn't miss a beat. "Brothers. Blood isn't the only way you earn that title." He said it with a careless shrug, but there was weight behind his words.
Raghav gave a small smile, appreciating the sentiment.
The table grew warmer after that. Jokes bounced around, plates emptied, and for the first time since morning, the students felt less like strangers and more like the beginnings of a batch, a circle.
As they finished, Arjun slapped a few notes on the counter. "On me. First day calls for celebration."
"Arjun, that's not necessary," Aditi protested.
He winked. "Relax, Verma. If I go broke, I'll send the bill to the university."
Even Raghav couldn't hide his amused smile.
By the time they walked back toward campus, the sun was high, the afternoon session looming—but none of them seemed to mind. Something had shifted at that lunch table. What began as a coincidence had quietly set the stage for bonds that would matter in the days to come.