The Fall and The Glow

I'd grown up seeing that name everywhere — so often that it never even felt special anymore. School buses painted in faded yellow, packed with noisy kids shouting over each other. Heavy trucks roaring past late at night, their engines vibrating through the walls of our apartment. Government jeeps crawling through traffic like they had all the time in the world.

If something moved on Indian roads, chances were… it carried the Tasha name.

It wasn't just a company people knew. It was a company people trusted.

I'd heard relatives talk about it like it was some kind of life achievement. "Government job or Tasha job," one of my uncles used to say, nodding like that was the final answer to life. Someone in our colony got hired there once. There were sweets — actual sweets distributed to everyone, like it was a wedding or a festival.

That's what Tasha meant to people. Stability. Respect. A future that didn't collapse overnight.

So when the screen in front of me flashed red, it didn't feel real.

"Shares of Tasha Motors plunged sharply today following unexpected financial stress," the anchor said, his voice steady and professional. But I couldn't focus on him anymore. My eyes were locked onto the numbers scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

₹800… ₹620… ₹410…

Dropping. Falling. Crashing.

My chest tightened slowly, like something inside me was trying to catch up with what I was seeing.

No… that's not possible.

I had seen those numbers before. Not something similar. Not something close. The exact same numbers.

My fingers pressed into the edge of the couch as I leaned forward. The lab. The screen. That faint glow beside the ticker. And then — darkness. I had collapsed right after seeing it.

And now… it was happening again.

Exactly the same way.

My breathing slowed without me realizing it. The room around me faded into the background — the TV, the faint noise from outside, everything. All I could see were those numbers.

I saw this before it happened.

That thought didn't feel exciting. It felt wrong. Unnatural. Like I had stepped into something I wasn't supposed to see.

The glow. The whisper. The dream. All of it came rushing back at once, overlapping in my mind. That soft pulsing light. That voice calling my name. The numbers that didn't belong to the present.

It couldn't all be a coincidence. There was a connection. There had to be.

I leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees, forcing myself to think clearly.

If this is real… if what I saw wasn't imagination… then I didn't just see numbers. I saw something before it happened.

My heart started beating faster again — but this time, not from fear. From curiosity.

No. Don't jump to conclusions. Think properly. Test it.

That's the only way to know.

I grabbed my laptop and opened it.

Moneycontrol loaded slowly, line by line. Rows of stock names, prices, and tiny green and red arrows filled the screen. Everything looked completely normal — too normal for someone who had just seen something that shouldn't be possible.

"If you're going to show me the future," I muttered, "at least pick a stock that goes up next time."

I decided not to call Sameer. If he sat next to me right now, he'd keep asking if I was okay every five seconds. I didn't want that. I needed to think clearly.

So this time, I was alone.

I moved the cursor to the first stock.

Suryanet Power – ₹1,254.75 (+0.56%)

I stared at the numbers, waiting for something — anything — to change. A glow, a flicker, even a strange feeling.

Nothing happened.

The price moved slightly up, then back down. Just normal market movement.

I clicked the next one.

Aryan Tech Systems – ₹3,879.20 (+1.45%)

The numbers stayed exactly what they were supposed to be. Green. Stable. Ordinary.

I waited longer this time.

Still nothing.

I moved on.

Shraddha Bank – ₹2,042.75 (–0.13%)

My eyes stayed fixed on the small red arrow. I tried not to blink, as if I might miss something if I did.

Nothing.

No glow. No pull. No strange sensation.

Just numbers.

I exhaled slowly and clicked another.

Triveni Metals – ₹815.60 (+0.00%)

The price didn't even move. It just sat there, unchanged.

I stared at it longer than I should have, hoping something would happen if I just waited.

Nothing did.

The screen remained flat and lifeless.

I clicked one more.

Skyline InfraWorks – ₹1,309.00 (–0.98%)

I focused on the red percentage, watching it carefully.

Ten seconds passed.

Then twenty.

Still nothing.

The frustration built slowly, heavier than before. The room started to feel warmer, the light from the screen a little too harsh, the TV noise in the background more irritating than it should have been.

If this ability is real… why isn't it happening again?

Why only Tasha?

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a slow breath. My shoulders felt stiff from sitting so still.

Maybe it really was just a coincidence.

Maybe I saw something earlier and my mind filled in the gaps after I collapsed.

Maybe there was nothing special about it at all.

"Rishi?"

My mother's voice cut through my thoughts so suddenly that I almost flinched.

I turned toward the door. "M-Mom?"

She stood there holding her handbag, like she had just come in. Her eyes moved from me to the TV in the hall, still playing the same business news, and then to the laptop in front of me.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Why are you home this early? And the TV is on, and now the laptop also…" She shook her head slightly. "Do you want the electricity board to send us a garland with the bill?"

I forced a small smile. "I came back early. One of the labs got cancelled."

She looked at me for a second longer, like she wasn't fully convinced. "You could have called. I thought you'd come at your usual time."

"I was going to," I said. "I just… got distracted."

Her gaze shifted again toward the TV. "Always this market news," she muttered. "Don't let other people's losses become your headache."

Then she looked at my screen. "And this? Homework?"

"Yeah," I said quickly. "Professor Anu gave us something related to stocks. I was just checking."

She sighed, but her voice softened. "At least switch off one thing when you're using the other. We're not running a power station."

"Come eat something after a while," she said, turning away. "You look tired."

"I will, Ma."

Her footsteps faded into the kitchen, mixing with the faint sound of utensils and the TV in the background.

I turned back to the screen.

Everything looked the same.

Normal.

Quiet.

I moved the cursor toward the corner of the browser, ready to close it. Maybe this was enough for today. Maybe I was overthinking everything.

My thumb slipped slightly on the trackpad.

The page scrolled down a little.

I almost clicked away without looking.

But something caught my eye.

One of the rows had changed.

Not the numbers.

Something beside it.

A faint glow.

Soft. Subtle. Almost easy to miss.

But it was there.

Every other line on the screen looked flat.

Only this one… felt different.

My hand stopped moving.

The noise from the TV faded. The sounds from the kitchen disappeared. Even the fan above me felt silent.

I stared at that single line.

Vardhan AutoSystems Ltd.

₹255.

The glow pulsed gently, like a heartbeat.

It wasn't a mistake.

It wasn't my imagination.

It was happening again.

And this time — I had a name.