The streets were filled with music, laughter, and clouds of colorful gulal. It was the morning of Holi, the festival where everyone celebrated with joy.
But for Arjun, the colors felt strangely dull.
He stood quietly near the old park where he used to celebrate Holi every year with someone very special—Naina.
Three years ago, this same park was full of their laughter. Arjun remembered how Naina had run toward him with a handful of bright yellow color.
"Happy Holi!" she had shouted before smearing it on his face.
Arjun had pretended to be angry. "You started this war."
Within minutes they were chasing each other around the park, throwing colors and laughing like children. Their friends joined them, music played loudly, and the air was filled with happiness.
Later that afternoon, they sat under a tree, tired but smiling.
Naina looked at the colorful sky and said softly, "I wish every Holi could be like this."
Arjun smiled and promised, "Then we'll celebrate every Holi together."
But life had other plans.
A few months later, Naina's family moved to another city. At first, they talked every day. They promised that distance wouldn't change their love.
Slowly, things changed.
Calls became fewer. Messages became shorter. Eventually, silence took the place of their conversations.
Years passed, but Arjun still returned to the same park every Holi.
This year was no different.
He watched people dancing and throwing colors around him. Friends laughed, children ran, and music played loudly—but none of it reached his heart.
Arjun quietly took out a small packet of pink gulal from his pocket.
It was the same color Naina had used on him during their first Holi together.
He looked around the park and whispered softly, "Happy Holi, Naina… wherever you are."
A gentle breeze carried some colors through the air, and for a moment it felt like the past had returned.
Arjun slowly placed the pink gulal on the empty bench beside him.
The world around him was full of colors, but his heart still carried the shade of a memory that never faded.
Because sometimes, the saddest thing about love isn't that it ends.
It's that even after everything changes, some festivals, some places, and some colors will always remind you of the person who once made your world brighter. 🌈💔