Arun reached the Mumbai office at 9:28 AM—still early by local standards. He scanned his ID, walked through the glass entrance, and immediately felt the difference between Chennai and here.
This office didn't "wake up."It started the day already running.
The moment he stepped onto the floor, someone was already arguing about API access, a designer was fighting with Figma, someone else was reciting a list of bugs like they were praying, and a guy near the pantry was making the coffee machine cry for help.
Arun took a quiet breath.New jungle.Same species.
Morning stand-up began with everyone forming a loose circle around the board. Their team lead, Neha, looked sharp and wide awake in a way no one should be at 9:30 AM.
"Okay, quick updates," she said, and the room burst into a fast-paced mix of English and Hindi.
"Yesterday's deployment went fine—""Client wants new changes—""UI is blocked—""There's a database caching issue—"
Then Neha turned to Arun.
"You're the Chennai transfer, right? Arun?"
He nodded. "Yes."
"What kind of tasks do you prefer?"
"Backend logic, debugging," he said simply.
Neha smirked. "Backend logic is everywhere in this project. Welcome to the pain."
A few people laughed. Arun gave a small nod. Acceptance achieved.
He went to his assigned desk—one square of real estate with a slightly squeaky chair but a decent monitor. As he adjusted his position, the two guys sitting behind him—Rahul and Suresh, based on nameplates—were already gossiping.
"So she's coming today, no?" Rahul whispered.
"Who she?" Suresh asked.
"The shareholder. The Phoenix Project one."
Arun didn't react, but one eyebrow lifted.
Phoenix Project.The name from his transfer letter.
"You didn't see her last time?" Rahul continued. "Bro, she's intense. Very soft-spoken. But the kind whose questions make you reconsider all your life decisions."
Suresh whistled. "Board member types?"
"Exactly. And apparently the project is close to her personally."
Arun typed something randomly just to look occupied.
Then the next line caught his attention:
"Royal family background, no? Some Udaipur lineage or something."
His fingers paused briefly.
Udaipur.Royal.
The details HR mentioned returned to him.
He forced himself to resume typing.
Coincidences happen.
At 11:30, Neha pinged him: "Conference Room 3."
Inside, ten people were already arguing. Arun slipped in and sat quietly in the back.
The meeting was pure Mumbai chaos:
"We can't deploy this!""Client wants it now.""Who changed the contract?!""That wasn't me!""Get sign-off!""We don't have sign-off!"
After ten minutes of noise, Neha pointed at him.
"That's Arun. New backend. Chennai team."
Everyone nodded once, acknowledged his existence, and returned to yelling. Arun sat still, absorbing everything. The architecture. The problem. The politics. The tension.
One line stood out:
"Anything related to Phoenix goes directly to her," Neha said.
There it was again.Her.
Arun wondered who this mystery woman was, but he didn't ask. Curiosity wasted time.
By lunchtime, he took a plate of dal and rice, found a quiet corner, and sat alone.
But gossip had amazing travelling power.
At the table next to him, three engineers were whispering.
"She's visiting the office again.""Everyone panics when she walks in.""Last time she pointed out a production bug during the demo.""The CTO himself respects her.""Very strict. Very sharp.""Very high status.""And she's young, bro. Very young to have this much authority."
Arun didn't look up, but he listened.
Her again.
"Old-money family, no? Rajput background?"
"Haan. Royal lineage types."
He took a slow breath.
Udaipur.Rathore Group.Phoenix Project.
His hand hesitated for half a second before continuing to eat.
He didn't want to think of the girl on the bus.
He didn't want to think of the way she stared sharply when time flickered for a millisecond.
He didn't want to connect dots that had no right to be connected.
He finished lunch without looking at anyone.
In the afternoon, Neha assigned him a migration script left in ruins by some previous developer. Arun cleaned it up piece by piece—tightened logic, optimized loops, removed two questionable hacks, fixed a hidden bug nobody else had caught.
Neha passed behind him and said, "You're fast."
He shrugged. "Chennai trains honed my survival skills."
She laughed. "Good. We need fast people."
The more he worked, the more familiar he became with the company's culture.
Deadlines were always yesterday.Meetings multiplied like rabbits.Everything was important.Nothing was clear.
Classic corporate India, just with more skyscrapers.
Around 5:30 PM, rumors spread like wildfire.
"She's coming.""No, she's already in the building.""No, meeting's postponed.""Bro, clean your desk. Why take chance?"
Arun pretended not to listen.
Neha walked out of a phone call and announced, "Okay everyone, relax. The meeting is postponed. She won't be visiting today."
People exhaled collectively.
Rahul leaned toward Arun. "You'll meet her eventually. Big people always show up unannounced when life is at maximum inconvenience."
Arun didn't respond, but the line stuck in his mind.
At 6 PM, he packed his things and left. The Mumbai evening hit him—crowded roads, restless footsteps, the smell of fried snacks mixing with the sea breeze.
He walked to his bus stop and waited.
He didn't expect to see her again.He didn't tell himself he was looking.He didn't admit that a part of him was listening for her small footsteps or searching for that familiar calmness.
The bus arrived.
He stepped in.
The seat she occupied yesterday was empty.
He didn't feel disappointment.Just a steady, untouched quiet.
The city rattled around him.The bus engine growled.Passengers yelled at the conductor.Someone loudly played reels on their phone.
Arun stared out the window, expression blank.
He told himself he wasn't thinking about her.
And he wasn't.
But deep in the quiet corner of his mind, a feeling lingered:
Mumbai was not finished with him.And she—whoever she was—was much closer to his story than he realized.