The evening air was thick with the smells of street food and the distant honking of auto-rickshaws. Rohit smoothed down his shirt with quick, nervous fingers, checked his reflection in a scratched car window, and stepped out of the auto.
(Straighten up, walk forward, keep breathing steady.)
Ahead, he spotted Ajay — already seated at a plastic table outside their old favourite spot. A familiar sight: yellowing banner of the "Famous Aloo Puri Joint" fluttering lazily above, as if stuck in time .
Ajay saw Rohit approaching and lit up. He stood quickly, arms swinging open, and yanked Rohit into a rough, brotherly hug.
"About time, you rascal," Ajay laughed, thumping him on the back with enough force to knock the dust off old memories.
Rohit chuckled, patting him awkwardly. It had been so long... too long. And yet, something still clicked, just like before.
At the table, another man sat — darker in complexion, with sharp, intelligent eyes that missed little.
Ajay gestured eagerly, "Meet my friend — Arvind, from Kerala."
Rohit shook Arvind's hand, firm but polite. "Rohit. Nice to meet you."
Arvind smiled warmly. "I know , heard a lot. This guy talks about you all the time —childhood best friends, crazy school days, wild adventures."
Rohit gave a half-smile, brushing his hair back with a casual flick. "Well... that part's true."
( Stay present, enjoy the moment, don't drift.)
They sat down together. Ajay flagged a server, ordering three plates of their old favourite — aloo puri, still gleaming under a coat of spice and nostalgia.
"So, Rohit," Ajay said, slapping a hand on his shoulder, "how are you holding up?"
"I'm better than before," Rohit admitted, poking at his puri absent-mindedly. "You tell me — how's life treating you after awakening as a Gifted?"
Ajay leaned back, arms spread lazily across the back of his chair. "It's a whole different world now, mate. Hard to explain."
Rohit leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Is it true? You hear some kind of... world voice when your mana awakens?"
Ajay laughed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Maybe? I heard something — can't really remember. Like a whisper you forget the moment you hear it."
Arvind nodded knowingly. "That's still one of the mysteries, isn't it? No one's figured it out yet."
Ajay waved a hand. "Enough about me. What about you?"
Rohit sighed, tapping a slow beat on the table. "Still struggling. No real luck with jobs. Ever since the Gifted awakening, the market's basically crashed. Companies want fast, efficient Gifted workers now. And Force barely recruit normals anymore."
Ajay's easy grin softened. "Hey, listen. I'm starting a job next week — private protection company. If there's an opening, I'll hook you up."
"Thanks, mate. Appreciate it," Rohit said, feeling a faint warmth bloom in his chest. A tether, however thin, back to something steady.
"But you didn't try for the Hyderabad Mana Regulation Institute?" Rohit asked, curiosity nudging him.
Ajay let out a short, dry laugh. "Those places? News bait, mate. They only take the powerful, the connected. Seats are few and political."
Arvind leaned forward. "Yeah. Reality's harsher. If your ability isn't flashy or deadly... they won't even look at you."
"What are your abilities, anyway?" Rohit asked, genuinely curious.
Ajay grinned mischievously. He snapped his fingers, and a tiny flame burst to life — a dancing ember on his fingertips before vanishing.
"Looks pathetic now, I know," Ajay said, rubbing his fingers. "But I'm still new. I'll grow stronger."
Arvind shrugged modestly. "Mine's photographic memory. Useful for studies... but nothing special. Normal folks have it too."
Rohit sat back, a tight feeling curling in his gut.
Small powers, maybe — but powers nonetheless.
( Don't resent them. )
A memory surfaced, unbidden — a flash from school days:
He and Ajay crouched under the classroom window, stifling their laughter as Rohit mimicked their stern teacher's voice perfectly:
" Detention for breathing too loudly in my class!"
The class burst into muffled snickers.
The teacher turned suspiciously, glasses perched precariously on her nose, scanning the room.
But no one ratted them out.
Their bond had been unbreakable then.
Rohit smiled faintly at the memory, a bittersweet taste lingering.
They chatted longer — tales of awkward encounters under new Gifted regulations, ridiculous bureaucratic red tape, and, of course, old school mischief.
Finally, Ajay checked his battered wristwatch and stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his jeans. "Got an appointment. Let's meet again soon, alright?"
Rohit stood too, bumping fists with him. "Sure thing."
He shook Arvind's hand, firmer this time. "Good meeting you, mate."
"Likewise," Arvind said, his smile genuine.
As Ajay and Arvind disappeared into the thickening crowd, Rohit stood still, the city's noise washing over him in chaotic waves.
For a long second, he just breathed, feeling the weight and wonder of the world press into him.
Small flames.
Sharp minds.
Gifts he didn't have.
Yet.
( Plant your feet. Focus. Find your own path.)
He curled his fists lightly at his sides, a quiet promise blooming in his chest:
"Mana or not... I will find my own strength. I will carve my place into this world."