The Demonetization of Love

In the shadow of New Delhi's towering concrete jungle, where the air thrummed with the relentless honks of rickshaws and the murmur of restless souls, a fleeting romance ignited amid the turmoil of demonetization. It was November 2016, and India's streets pulsed with the chaos of a nation stripped of its currency. Long queues coiled outside banks like serpents of despair, their scales made of shivering bodies and whispered complaints.
Among them stood Mr. Chintan Bhagat-India's literary luminary, a silver-tongued orator, a political visionary draped in the crimson mantle of communism. His scarf, a bold slash of red against the gray dusk, fluttered in the breeze as he adjusted his spectacles, his hazel eyes scanning the crowd. Beside him was Dr. Sheena Amin-a #MeToo crusader, a journalist of piercing intellect, her emerald-green dupatta catching the fading light like a beacon of defiance.
Their meeting was a collision of chance-a crumpled 500-rupee note, now worthless, dropped between them.