The next morning, the silence of the penthouse was broken not by the hum of the air conditioner, but by the rumble of a heavy freight elevator.Veer stood by the balcony door, practically vibrating with excitement. He was wearing old clothes Ishika had found for him—simple cotton trousers and a faded t-shirt. His feet were bare."They are here," he announced to Ishika, who was sitting on the sofa with her laptop, trying to finalize the revised plans for the Suryapur factory."You are like a child on Diwali," she remarked, though her eyes were soft. She had abandoned her suit jacket, her sleeves rolled up."Earth is life, Ishika!" Veer said, rushing to open the sliding door as workers began hauling in large sacks of soil, terracotta pots, and wooden planter boxes.For the next four hours, the penthouse balcony was transformed. The cold, grey tiles were covered in dark, rich soil. The smell of wet earth filled the living room, overpowering the scent of lemon polish.Ishika watched from the doorway, captivated. Veer was in his element. He directed the workers with gentle authority, pointing to where the sun hit the floor in the morning, where the shade would be in the afternoon. He handled the soil with reverence, crumbling it between his fingers.Once the workers left, Veer turned to her, his hands caked in dirt, his face smudged with a streak of brown."Come," he beckoned.Ishika hesitated. "I have a meeting in an hour.""Cancel it," Veer said. It wasn't an order, but a request. "The soil is ready. It is waiting."Ishika looked at her phone, then at him. She sighed, put the phone on 'Do Not Disturb,' and kicked off her heels. She walked onto the balcony."What do I do?"Veer smiled, a genuine, bright smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. He handed her a small trowel. "First, we make the bed for the Tulsi. It is the most important. She is the queen of the garden."He showed her how to mix the soil with sand, how to create the right drainage. Ishika's manicured nails dug into the dirt. It felt strange—gritty, cool, alive."Like this?" she asked, holding up a pot filled with soil.Veer laughed softly. He stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her to guide her hands. His chest pressed against her back, grounding her."Gentle," he murmured near her ear. "Do not pack it too tight. The roots need to breathe. Just like people. If you hold them too tight, they suffocate."Ishika leaned back against him, closing her eyes. The lesson wasn't just about gardening.They planted the Tulsi sapling together. Then, marigolds for the color. Then, small chili and tomato plants in the wooden boxes.By the time they were finished, the sun was setting. The balcony was no longer a sterile extension of a skyscraper; it was an oasis. Pots lined the glass railing, turning the city view into a backdrop of green.Ishika looked at her hands. They were stained brown, her cuticles rough. She should have been horrified. Instead, she felt a strange sense of peace."We are messy," she observed, looking at Veer, who had dirt on his nose and cheek.Veer wiped his face with his arm, only smearing the dirt further. "We are alive," he corrected.He led her over to a small water tap they had installed. He washed her hands first, taking care to clean every finger, the water running black and brown before turning clear. Then he washed his own."Tomorrow," Veer said, shaking the water off his hands, "we will plant the Banyan sapling. And maybe some mint. I can make you fresh mint tea.""I would like that," Ishika said.She stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She rested her head on his shoulder. He smelled of soap, sweat, and damp earth. It was the best thing she had ever smelled."You know," she whispered, "when I first brought you here, I wanted to erase the village from you. I wanted to turn you into city stone."Veer stroked her hair. "I know. You were very fierce.""But I was wrong," Ishika continued. "The village isn't weakness, Veer. It's strength. It's your roots."She pulled back to look him in the eye. "I don't want to cut your roots anymore. I want to water them."Veer looked at her, his eyes shining with emotion. "Then I will grow strong for you, Ishika. So I can shade you when the sun gets too hot."Ishika smiled, a rare, unguarded expression. She leaned in and kissed him, tasting the faint trace of salt and soil on his lips."Grow, little guide," she whispered against his mouth. "Grow wild."From the living room, the city lights flickered below, but on the balcony, amidst the pots of mud and the small green shoots, they had created a world that belonged only to them.