"City life sucked," I admitted.
"I felt more alone in a crowd than I do here. At least here... I have family. People who care, who ask me to eat, to sleep. What more can you really ask for in life?"
I smiled, a little sad, a little relieved.
"Sometimes... that's enough."
"In our entire life," he said thoughtfully, "we make friends, fall in love, build relationships... but deep down, we still feel alone. All of us. It's like something's missing inside us. Like we're constantly wanting more... more and more. And even when we get everything-we still feel incomplete."
He paused, looking at the sky.
"Rich or poor, it doesn't matter. Everyone feels it, at some point."
I nodded slowly, silently admitting it.
There's an emptiness inside me too-one that keeps me from laughing freely, from feeling light.
"I tried so hard to become like them," I whispered, "to be happy like everyone else... but I can't."
"It's not your fault," he said softly. "They're just good actors."
I gave a faint smile.
"I don't even know where life is taking me anymore."
My voice trembled.
"Sometimes... I just wish I could disappear. From this world, from all the chaos. From pretending to be fine."
He didn't try to comfort me with false hope. Instead, he spoke the truth.
"But we can't. All of it stays inside us... until the day we die."
I looked down for a moment, then quietly asked,
"Aren't you tired of it?"
His voice was almost a whisper.
"I'm tired of everything... even of my own tiredness."
He was truly sad in his own life-and honestly, everyone is, in their own way. But still, we smile. We laugh in front of others, even the ones closest to us. Even in front of strangers, we hide it. We don't let them see our sorrow... our wounds. Wounds that are deep, unhealed, and never fully spoken about.
And slowly, slowly... we become like that.
We learn to hide everything inside.
In every path of life, we search for that one person-someone we can truly express ourselves to. Someone we can show our feelings, our anger, our pain... without fear. Someone who understands us, who heals us, without asking for anything in return.
That... is called love.
But not everyone finds it.
Sometimes, love depends more on luck than anything else.
To find that one true person-someone who can carry your sorrows in their heart and give you all their happiness... it feels rare. Almost divine.
Like a blessing from God... or something just as sacred.
That morning, I dressed well and stood in front of the mirror, holding my lipstick in hand, hesitating for a moment. Should I wear it or not? Slowly, I applied it, then checked the mirror twice, unsure why I felt so nervous. When I stepped out, I smiled and even blushed a little-for no reason at all. It was just breakfast time, nothing special, yet I found myself doing all these silly little things... because I was waiting for him. Waiting for him to come downstairs so we could eat together. But then Mom told me he had already left early in the morning.
I paused. It was the holidays, wasn't it? Didn't his company give him time off? Or had they called him back suddenly? My smile faded, my face lowered, and I quietly walked to the washroom. I washed my face, and just like that, the makeup disappeared. The lipstick. The brightness. Gone. Staring into the mirror, I saw my real face again-bare, tired... and sad. A sadness that never really left. The sadness of him not being here... or maybe, not being with me.
My brother came into my room to ask for the money we had saved-to finally buy the car. We had already discussed it before; it was meant to be a surprise for Papa and Mummy. So, we went together to the showroom. We looked at several cars-each one nice in its own way-but we needed something within our budget. Then we saw it-a navy blue car. It was perfect. Technically made for four, but the backseat was wide enough to fit three people comfortably. That meant five of us could easily sit together. It wasn't too big or too small-just the right size for our family. We both instantly agreed on it.
The manager told us the car would be delivered to our home by evening. That made the day feel even more special. We were both happy, but Babu-he was overjoyed. He laughed and couldn't stop smiling. He loves cars, and I already know-he'll be the first one to drive it. His excitement made everything feel more real, more worth it. Today's evening... felt like something to look forward to.
We were on our way back in the bus when I saw Tej sitting quietly in the back seat. He must have come straight from his office-he was wearing formal clothes, a light shirt and black pants, with his office bag resting in his right hand. He looked calm, almost lost in thought, his eyes fixed on the view outside the window. For a moment, I wanted to go sit beside him, to just be close, even in silence.
But before I could move, Babu called out, "Come, sit here." I nodded and sat next to him instead. He started talking right away-chatting about his college assignment, and then about a girl he liked. Apparently, he had a crush on her, but she ended up dating his friend. I listened quietly, nodding here and there, not really saying much. I was present with Babu, but a part of me kept drifting toward Tej, sitting alone just a few seats away.
The bus stopped at our stop, and the three of us got down.
"He's very rude," Babu whispered in my ear.
I turned and looked at Tej. Our eyes met for a few seconds. I gave a soft smile, but he didn't react.
"We're home," I called out to Mom as we stepped in. She was in the courtyard, washing a blanket. Babu rushed straight to the washroom-it was obvious he'd been waiting for it the entire ride. Tej stood silently, arms folded, not saying a word. I glanced at him, then turned to go.
"Where are you going, haan?" Mom asked.
"Just for a walk, Ma," I replied.
"It's cloudy today. I felt like going out for a bit."
Tej quickly ran to his room, dropped off his bag, and came out wearing the same clothes-white shirt, black pants-but now with his sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone.
I had already walked a little ahead from the house when I heard footsteps behind me. He was running to catch up. I smiled softly to myself. After a few seconds, he stopped running and began walking beside me. He smiled too.
"Did you miss me?" he asked playfully.
"Why would I?" I replied, a little too sharply.
We kept walking, saying nothing more. Neither of us wanted to break the silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. My hair flowed gently in the breeze, and the soft echo of my sandals tapped against the empty, rocky street. There was something quiet and strange in the air-like feelings unspoken, words held back, yet everything still being felt.
He was blushing-actually, we both were-and the funny part was, we didn't even know why. We kept looking at each other, then smiling, then looking again. It was such a silly, hilarious moment... but real. And in that quiet laughter, I felt something shift inside me. I knew I was beginning to heal. The scar on my chest, the invisible wounds I'd been carrying-they were finally starting to fade. With him... I was healing.