The next morning hit Chinmay like a truck.
His body ached from yesterday's pathetic attempt at a push-up.
Every muscle screamed for mercy.
He wanted to roll over, pull the blanket back over his head, and vanish.
But then he remembered the mirror.
The other version of him.
Waiting.
Not mocking.
Not begging.
Just waiting.
---
> "How long will you keep him waiting?"
"How many more days will you waste pretending you have time?"
The questions stabbed him awake harder than any alarm ever could.
Chinmay threw the blanket off.
Feet on the ground.
No more thinking.
Just moving.
---
He stumbled into his old track pants and stepped outside.
The world was still half-asleep — birds chirping lazily, a cool mist hanging in the air.
Perfect.
No one to watch him fail.
He dropped down again onto the hard ground.
---
Push-up.
Arms trembling like crazy.
Chest barely moving an inch.
He collapsed.
Bitter taste in his mouth.
---
He got back up.
Again.
Push-up.
Collapse.
Push-up.
Collapse.
Every time he fell, a new thought screamed inside his head:
> "This is useless." "You're weak." "You'll never change."
And every time —
he pushed back harder.
---
By the fifth try, his arms gave out completely.
He lay there, gasping, feeling like a crushed insect.
But something inside him refused to stay crushed.
> "If I can't do one perfect push-up yet..." "I'll do half."
He dropped to his knees and forced his arms to push.
Half push-up.
Wobbly. Ugly. Shaky.
But real.
---
He did one.
Then two.
Then three.
Each rep was like hammering a nail into a coffin —
not his own,
but the coffin of the old voice.
---
Chinmay wasn't chasing motivation anymore.
He wasn't looking for hype, or fireworks, or grand speeches.
He was just showing up.
Every damn second.
---
Sweat trickled into his eyes, blinding him.
His arms were jelly.
His breath was ragged.
But when he stood up, staggering, he felt it:
Not pride.
Not happiness.
Something purer.
RESPECT.
For himself.
---
He looked up at the sky, chest heaving, face shining with sweat and tears mixed together.
> "I showed up,"
he whispered.
Not loud.
Not proud.
Just true.
---
The mirror version of him wasn't laughing.
It was nodding.
---
And somewhere deep inside, for the first time in forever,
Chinmay smiled back.
---
TO BE CONTINUED...
---