Chapter 1 – First Breath of the Islands

Treasure Hunter: The Seventh Tide of Andaman

Chapter 1 – First Breath of the Islands

T he journey didn’t begin in the air.
It began in silence.

❖ Early winter morning.
Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose International Airport.
The kind of morning where the city hadn’t fully woken up yet— but the airport had.
Lights too bright.
Announcements too calm.
People moving with purpose.
And somewhere in between— we stood.
Not knowing yet… what we were walking into.

I noticed him first.
Arindam Da.
Standing near the glass wall.
Looking at the aircraft — not like a traveler… but like someone measuring time.
As if departures meant more to him than arrivals ever could.
Two paper cups in his hand.
Coffee.

He didn’t call her.
Didn’t gesture.
Just walked up… and held one cup toward Ishani Di.

“Careful. It’s hot.”

That’s it.
No smile.
No extra words.
But Ishani Di smiled.

“Thanks… tumi ekhono mone rakho,” she said softly.

Arindam paused. Just a second.
“Coffee?” he asked.

She looked at him.
“Na… details.”

Something unspoken passed between them.
He looked away first.

I don’t know when exactly they became this… comfortable with silence.
But I’ve learned something — people who don’t need to speak much… usually have the most to say.

✦ Arindam Sen.
A man who left history… because history refused to accept him.
Or maybe — because he refused to accept the version written for him.
He doesn’t react immediately.
He observes. Processes.
And when he thinks deeply — his pen taps twice.
Always twice.

✦ Ishani Roy.
She doesn’t study history.
She feels it.
Where Arindam searches for facts — she listens for echoes.
Where he doubts — she believes.
And somewhere between logic and emotion — they meet.
Not as lovers.
Not as strangers.
But as something unfinished.

They met three years ago.
Murshidabad.
A forgotten structure.
A broken wall.
A disagreement.

“History doesn’t work on feelings,” Arindam had said.
“And truth doesn’t always follow records,” Ishani replied.

That was their beginning.

Behind us —
“Excuse me… eta ki fully fuel nichhe?”

Subho Kaku.
Of course.
Already deep in conversation with an airport staff.

The staff smiled politely.
“Yes sir, refueling is going on.”

“Hmm… bhalo,” he nodded, satisfied — as if he personally approved the flight.

I leaned toward Ishani Di and whispered —
“Subho Kaku airport-e esheo network build kore fele.”

She pressed her lips together… trying not to laugh.
Arindam Da didn’t react.
He rarely does.
But I saw it — that tiny shake of his head.
That almost-smile he never allows fully.

We were four.
Not exactly a team.
Not yet.

✦ Arindam Sen — The Mind.
✦ Ishani Roy — The Soul.
✦ Subho Kaku — The Unexpected Key.
✦ And me — Rit.
Just… watching.
Recording.
Trying to understand what connects people like them.
And why somehow — I was now part of it.

“Passengers for Port Blair, boarding will begin shortly…”

The announcement broke the moment.
And just like that — the journey stepped forward.

✈️ Inside the Aircraft

Seat arrangement always tells a story.

Window — Ishani Di
Middle — Me
Aisle — Arindam Da

Behind us — Subho Kaku.

“Perfect,” I said.
“You mean uncomfortable,” Arindam replied.
“I mean strategic.”

Ishani didn’t respond.
She was already looking outside.

As the aircraft taxied —
Arindam leaned slightly toward her.

“You’ll get better light after takeoff. Right side.”

She didn’t look at him.
“Tomar ki mone hoy ami jani na?”

A pause.
Then — very softly —
“I know you know.”

That was their version of affection.

The aircraft began to move.
Slow.
Controlled.
Then faster.
Then — the ground let go.

Kolkata disappeared beneath clouds.
The city became pattern.
Then blur.
Then memory.

For a while — no one spoke.
Only the low hum of the engine.
And something else — that quiet shift you feel when you leave something behind… but don’t yet know what you’re moving toward.

“Excuse me, madam…”

Subho Kaku again.
“Window ta ki ekto beshi khola jabe?”

I closed my eyes.
The air hostess smiled.
“The window is already open, sir.”

“Ohh… thik ache thik ache.”

Satisfied.
Always.

Time slowed.
Until —

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now beginning our descent towards Port Blair…”

Everything changed.

“If you look to your right… you will see the Andaman Islands.”

Ishani Di leaned closer.
And then — she froze.

“Ki holo?” I whispered.
No answer.

So I looked.
And for a second — I forgot how to breathe.

Below us — islands.
Floating like secrets in endless blue.
Turquoise.
Deep blue.
Shadows of coral forming patterns — like maps.
Like signs.
Like something waiting to be read.

“Arindam…” Ishani Di whispered.

He didn’t reply.
Because he was already looking.
And for the first time — Arindam Sen had no explanation.

“Eita ki seriously India?” I muttered.

“No,” someone beside me smiled,
“This is Andaman.”

Behind us —
“Dekhte pachchi! Dekhte pachchi!”

Subho Kaku half-stood up.
Gently pulled back down.
But his eyes stayed outside.

A girl leaned over.
“Excuse me… can I see?”

“Yeah… sure,” Ishani said.

The girl gasped.
“Oh my God…”

“Did you take a picture?”

Ishani Di nodded.
“I’ll send,” I jumped in.

She looked at me.
I smiled.
“Rit.”
“Meera.”

Numbers exchanged.
Something new began.
Maybe.

🌴 Arrival – Port Blair

Around 11:30 AM — the wheels touched down.
Veer Savarkar International Airport.

The aircraft door opened.
And with it — a different world entered.

Warm air.
Salt in the breeze.
Soft sunlight.

“Feels lighter,” Arindam Da said.

Ishani Di nodded.
“Maybe… less noise inside.”

He looked at her.
Not outside.
At her.
But didn’t say anything.

Outside — a placard waited.
“Mr. Arindam Sen – Andaman Kartik”

Smooth pickup.
No confusion.
No chaos.

✔ Airport pickup
✔ Hotel transfer
✔ Day-wise itinerary
✔ Driver + local coordination

Our driver — Binod.
Young. Sharp.

“Sir, first hotel. Freshen up. Lunch ready. Then 2 PM Cellular Jail.”

Perfect planning.

The car moved through Port Blair.
Palm trees.
Quiet roads.
Sea flashing between buildings.

Ishani watched silently.
No camera.
Just… feeling.

Within 25 minutes — we reached:
🏨 Hotel Rhishabh

Welcome drink — tender coconut water.
Cool. Sweet. Real.

“Ei holo actual welcome,” Subho Kaku declared.

Rooms:
Two double-bed AC rooms.
Me + Ishani Di.
Arindam Da + Subho Kaku.

Quick refresh.
Minor geyser issue.
Fixed fast.
Arindam noticed.
Approved.

By 1 PM — lunch served.
🍚 Steamed rice
🍤 Prawn malai curry
🐟 Pomfret fry
🥔 Aloo posto

“Bengali food… here?” I asked.

Subho Kaku grinned —
“Bengali ra sob jaygay thake… Andaman-eo.”

Ishani Di laughed.
This time — freely.

After lunch — short rest.
But not really.
Because something had already started moving.

At exactly 2 PM — Binod arrived.
“Sir, ready? Cellular Jail, then Corbyn’s Cove sunset.”

Ishani Di picked up her bag.
Paused.

Inside — the diary.

She hadn’t opened it.
But it hadn’t left her.

“The truth lies beyond the seventh tide…”

Arindam Da looked at her.
“You’re thinking about it.”
“Maybe.”

He stepped closer.
Lower voice —
“Curiosity is fine… obsession isn’t.”

She looked at him.
“And if it’s not curiosity?”

A pause.
Wind moved softly between them.

“Then I’ll stay close,” he said.
Almost casually.
But not really.

The car slowed.
And then — it appeared.

🏛️ Cellular Jail

Tall.
Still.
Unavoidable.

No one spoke.
Because some places — don’t need introduction.
They carry their own silence.

We stepped out.

And I felt it.
Not fear.
Not curiosity.
Something else.

As if — we weren’t just visiting this place.

It was… remembering us.

🔚 End Hook

Standing there —
For the first time —
I understood something.

This wasn’t just a trip.
This wasn’t even just a story.

This was the beginning — of something already waiting.

And we had just arrived… exactly where it wanted us.

❄️ To Be Continued…