Sayantan Bramha One The evening air in Kolkata’s metro station carried its usual blend of dust, damp concrete, and faint echoes of hurried footsteps. Soumya’s heart pounded as he stood with a spray can hidden inside his backpack, waiting for the crowd to thin. Riya leaned against a pillar, eyes sharp and excited, tapping her phone screen nervously while pretending to scroll. Sam and Tanya were already whispering about colors, their hushed giggles bouncing off the walls. Imran, tall and quiet, kept scanning the platform with the kind of vigilance that made him look older than his years. For weeks…