SAME DAY DIFFERENT PLACE
The morning had already settled into its rhythm.
Krishnaveer stepped back into his apartment after his routine, the quiet space welcoming him the same way it always did—undisturbed, precise. On the dining table, his breakfast was already placed at the exact time it arrived every day.
Simple. Measured. Intentional.
A bowl of fresh fruits, boiled eggs, toasted brown bread, and a glass of warm water.
Nothing excessive. Nothing unnecessary.
He took his seat without delay and began eating. There were no distractions—no television, no scrolling through his phone. Each action followed order, even in something as ordinary as breakfast.
Halfway through, his phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen.
A call from the office.
He picked it up.
"Yes."
His tone was calm, direct.
A brief pause as the other person spoke.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes," he replied, and ended the call.
No extra words. No wasted time.
Krishnaveer finished his meal, placed the utensils neatly aside, and stood up. A quick look at his watch confirmed what he already knew.
On schedule.
He picked up his blazer and stepped out.
The estate remained as it always was—vast, quiet, divided. Each residence stood in its own space, complete yet distant. As he walked toward the exit, his steps slowed near a familiar direction.
Another wing of the villa.
His grandmother's residence.
He didn't walk inside.
He never did.
Instead, he stopped at the entrance, just outside the threshold. For a moment, his expression remained unchanged, but something in his posture softened—almost unnoticeable.
He bent slightly, touching the ground near the entrance, then brought his hand to his forehead.
A silent gesture.
Respect, without presence.
Then he straightened and walked away.
Some distances were maintained not by circumstance, but by choice.
As he moved toward the main exit, two doors opened almost at the same time.
His younger brother stepped out first, adjusting his backpack, followed by their cousin sister, tying her hair in a quick motion as she hurried out.
"Bhai," his brother greeted, slightly surprised. "You're leaving early today?"
Krishnaveer glanced at him. "On time," he corrected.
His cousin smiled lightly. "Same thing for you."
He didn't respond to that.
"College?" he asked, his tone neutral.
"Hmm," his brother nodded. "We'll probably be late."
Krishnaveer's gaze lingered on him for a brief second. "Then start earlier."
It wasn't advice.
It was expectation.
His cousin rolled her eyes playfully. "Not everyone runs on your timetable, Krish."
He adjusted his watch. "They should."
There was no arrogance in his voice. Just certainty.
A driver had already brought the car to the entrance. Krishnaveer walked past them without another word and stepped inside.
As the car moved forward, the estate slowly faded behind him.
Inside, his day was already planned—meetings, decisions, outcomes waiting to be shaped.
Outside, the world was just beginning.
For Krishnaveer Malhotra, time was never something to catch up with.
It was something he stayed ahead of.