Station Announcement:
"Attention passengers entering major junctions: please keep your memories close. They may be needed for identification."
Mumbai arrived like a punch.
Noise, heat, humidity, motion — everything rushed at them at once.Rickshaws honked like impatient birds, trains thundered in the distance, and the smell of the sea wrapped itself around the city like salt around an unfinished wound.
Arun pressed closer to Arjun as they stepped out of the station.He had never seen anything on this scale — millions moving as one giant organism.
Sara placed a gentle hand on Kannan's back.
"You okay?" she asked.
He nodded stiffly, but the truth was different.
Inside him, fear bloomed like monsoon water surging at the backwater banks.
This was the city where a twelve-year-old boy had searched for him.Streets he did not know.Docks he had never worked in.Rumours he had never corrected.
Every breath felt like standing on a cliff staring into the storm of his past.
1. The First Lead
Nish led them to the dockside shelters near Sassoon Docks — a maze of corrugated metal roofs, plastic sheets, and makeshift cooking fires.
Children ran barefoot between crates.Women sorted fish with hands that had learned to move faster than exhaustion.Men repaired nets they'd repair again the next day.
The shelter supervisor, a tired woman named Sheela, met them near the entrance.
"We're looking for records from several years ago," Nish said.
Sheela raised an eyebrow.
"People don't stay here long enough to fill forms."
Nish showed her the note Akshay left in Goa.
"A boy came here in 2014," he said. "Around twelve years old. Said he was looking for his father."
Sheela's face changed.
"Twelve?" she murmured."2014?"
Arun's heart thudded.
Kannan leaned in, tense as a bowstring.
Sheela gestured them inside.
"There was a boy," she said. "Skinny, sharp eyes, quiet. Helped unload crates for a few days. Always asking the fishermen if they'd seen his father."
Kannan's chest collapsed.
"That's him," he whispered. "That's my son."
Sheela continued:
"He slept near the generator room. Talked little. Ate even less. Kept saying he couldn't leave because 'Appa might pass this way any day.'"
Kannan turned toward the floor, tears falling freely.
Sara gripped his arm.
"And then?" Nish asked gently.
Sheela hesitated.
"He fell sick," she said."Fever. Bad. Someone took him to a clinic near Colaba."
Arun nearly stumbled forward.
"Which clinic?"
Sheela pointed down the road.
"Dr. Hanif's. But that clinic shut down years ago."
Rohit pressed his fingers to his forehead.
"So the trail ends?"
Sheela shook her head.
"No," she said slowly."Actually… it might continue."
Everyone stared.
She lowered her voice.
"There was a social worker. Came often. She took interest in kids like him. Thin ones. Lost ones. She might know more."
"What's her name?" Nish asked.
Sheela thought for a moment.
Then said:
"Devika Pradhan."
Arun felt something stir in his chest.
Kannan whispered the name slowly, as though repeating a prayer he'd never heard before.
"Devika…"
2. Following the Name
They made their way to Dongri, weaving through narrow lanes where the city felt closer, denser, older.
Laundry hung overhead on clotheslines like flags of all the lives stacked into the buildings.
When they reached Devika's address — a one-room flat on the third floor — the door was open.
A woman in her fifties, thin but alert, sat on the floor sorting files.
"May I help you?" she asked, assessing the strangers with warm suspicion.
Nish introduced them.Explained.Showed the note, the map, the Goa box.
When he mentioned the boy searching for his father, Devika's expression changed completely.
She pressed a hand to her chest.
"Akshay," she said."Of course I remember him."
Kannan gasped.
Arun moved closer.
"What happened to him?" Arun asked.
Devika took a slow breath.
"He was sick. High fever. Nearly unconscious when they brought him in. I stayed with him at the clinic."
Tears filled Kannan's eyes.
"Did he… did he say anything?" he whispered.
Devika nodded gently.
"He kept whispering, 'Appa will come. He will.'"
Kannan covered his face, shaking silently.
Sara placed a steady hand on him.
Devika continued softly:
"But after a week, when he recovered enough to walk, he said he couldn't stay. He had to keep searching."
"Where did he go?" Nish asked.
Devika hesitated.
"Station platforms. And then…"
She paused.
"And then to a place I don't like to mention."
Kannan stiffened.
Ananya leaned forward.
"Where?"
Devika met Kannan's eyes.
"A shelter run by a man named Prakash Joshi," she said."Near Dharavi."
Sara inhaled sharply.
Arjun's jaw tightened.
Arun frowned. "Is that bad?"
Devika nodded grimly.
"Very. He runs the place like a labour depot. Boys disappear from there. Some resurface. Many don't."
Kannan swayed.
Devika reached for a file.
"I warned Akshay not to go. Begged him. But he said there was a rumour that someone there knew a man matching his father's description."
Kannan whispered, broken:
"He followed every lie. Every shadow."
Devika looked at him with compassion.
"Children don't chase shadows," she said softly."They chase hope."
3. The First Sign
Devika opened a drawer and pulled out a worn notebook.
"This," she said, "is the register from the clinic. I kept it when the clinic shut."
She flipped pages until she reached an entry.
"Here," she said. "Listen."
She read:
Name: Akshay (no surname given)Age: approx. 12Condition: fever, dehydration, mild infectionDischarged: after 6 daysDestination: Prakash Joshi Shelter, DharaviNote left behind: "If Appa passes here, tell him I went to the big road where everyone searches."
Nish scribbled quickly.
Arun whispered:
"Big road… where everyone searches…?"
Arjun murmured:
"He meant the city stretch near Dharavi station. Thousands move through it every day."
Kannan clutched the notebook entry as if holding onto his son's hand.
Sara said softly:
"This is not the end.It's a direction."
Devika nodded.
"There's one more thing."
She reached into another file and pulled out a small item sealed in a transparent sleeve.
A beaded bracelet — broken string, some beads missing, but still intact.
Arun gasped.
"That's… one like mine."
Kannan froze.
"He had one?" he whispered.
Devika nodded.
"He carried it the whole time. He said his father gave it to him before he left."
Kannan's voice broke into a raw whisper:
"I gave him that… when he was eight… so he wouldn't feel alone…"
Sara covered her mouth.
Arun felt tears sting his eyes.
Devika held the bracelet toward Kannan.
"He left this on the clinic bed. I kept it hoping someday someone would come looking for him."
Kannan took it in trembling hands.
For a moment, everything — the trains, the crowds, the city — went quiet.
He pressed the bracelet to his forehead.
"My boy…my boy…"
Sara knelt beside him.
"We're closer," she whispered."He is somewhere. And he left a trail."
4. A New Road Ahead
Nish closed his notebook.
"Next stop: Dharavi.Prakash Joshi's shelter."
Devika nodded, worry shadowing her eyes.
"Be careful," she warned."Joshi is not kind. And not honest."
Arun stepped forward, steady for the first time that day.
"We're not afraid," he said.
Kannan looked at him — a boy who wasn't his son, but who had become the courage he no longer had.
Arun added quietly:
"We will find him."
Kannan whispered:
"I pray you're right."
As they stepped out of Devika's home, the evening lights of Mumbai flickered on —shimmering like thousands of tiny signals waiting to be read.
The search was no longer blind.
The footprints were getting clearer.
And somewhere in the city of missing names —a trail still waited.