Chapter 5 - Chapter Four: While He Waited, She Stayed In

'𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌, 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓.'

𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒕... 𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒌'𝒔 𝑷𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝑽𝒊𝒆𝒘

The next day, Mayank arrived early.

The sky was still sleepy, a soft grey blanket of clouds hanging low as the first vendors set up their stalls. The streets, damp from another morning drizzle, smelled like fresh ink, old pages, and yesterday's rain.

He stood at the same corner. By the rusted gate near the second-hand political theory books. The place where he saw her last or maybe imagined her.

He waited.

The crowd slowly thickened with students haggling over notes, lovers sharing chai under shared umbrellas, and the usual symphony of chaos.

But not her.

No foggy glasses.

No keychain.

No 𝙘𝙝𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙘𝙝𝙝𝙖𝙣.....

He checked his watch.

Ten minutes.

Thirty.

An hour.

Still no sign. Only a false alarm, a girl with a similar bag, but no ghungroo. Another with her build, but no glasses. He began to doubt. Not just her presence… but the entire moment. Was it real? Or had he turned a fleeting glance into a story because he needed one? The ache started small. Just under the ribs. But it grew, heavy and sharp. The kind that wraps around the lungs and doesn't let go. Mayank leaned against the lamppost, defeated. He wasn't angry. Just… hollow. Like he came looking for a melody and found only static.

The sun had just dipped below the skyline. The street was bathed in that golden-orange hue that made everything feel like a memory. Mayank sipped his kulhad chai, eyes fixed on nothing in particular. Aabir leaned beside him, arms crossed, watching the steam rise.

"You know what they say... when you stop looking, that's when it finds you." Aabir said while sipping his chai. Mayank smiled, but it's not his usual smile; it's a bitter smile. "And what if she wasn't looking either? What if she stopped before I started?" "Then maybe you're meant to carry the thread for both of you until she finds her grip again." Aabir looked at him and sighed. Mayank chuckled. "You're poetic today." Aabir grinned and said, "I hang out with a tragic hero every day. Some of it's bound to rub off."

They both laugh lightly.

Mayank tried to laugh it off.

Dramatic fool, he told himself.

You romanticized a stranger with a keychain.

But it was more than that.

It wasn't about her.

It was about the version of himself he had felt in that moment present, alive, stirred. He hadn't chased her, really.

He chased that version of himself who had felt something again.

And now, standing here with nothing but secondhand syllabus and echoing footsteps, that version felt distant again.

He turned to leave.

The street behind him kept buzzing. As if his wait meant nothing to it. And just as he stepped away, a sudden breeze danced through the alley, knocking over a hanging display of wind chimes. Their soft tinkling filled the air.

It wasn't the ghungroo.

But it was enough to make him stop.

He looked back one last time.

Still no her.

Just rainclouds, loud, busy people, and unread books.

Mayank sighed, hands in pockets, and walked slowly toward the metro. Maybe she wouldn't come today. Maybe never. Maybe she was never meant to stay, just brush past his life like an underlined sentence on a torn page.

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𝑺𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒐'𝒔 𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎

The morning sun was soft but unwelcome. It filtered through the lace curtains like an uninvited guest. Paro lay curled on her side, the blanket twisted around her like vines. Her eyes were open, heavy and red-rimmed, but open. She hadn't really slept. Just drifted in and out of shallow dreams that felt more like memory loops. Her books were still on the floor. The keychain with the ghungroo lay half out of her bag still. Silent. She turned away from the window.

The screen of her phone lit up.

𝑺𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒉𝒊 😤 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈…

Paro wiped her eyes quickly and picked up, trying to sound less hollow than she felt.

Siddhi said in a cheerful and sarcastic tone, "Are you alive, or should I start planning your funeral with filter coffee and poetry readings?" Paro chuckled lightly, "Alive. Barely." Siddhi paused for a second. "Guess what!!!! Your savior is on the way." "Wait, what?" Paro widened her eyes and shook her head. Siddhi replied, "Because I'm coming over in twenty minutes. We have to do this disaster of a chemistry project. And also, I'm in a mood for drama. I expect coffee and tears. You pick the order." Paro, a soft laugh escapes her "Why are you like this?" Siddhi replied softly, "Because someone in your life has to be unhinged and emotionally available. Now go brush, or at least pretend to."

She hung up without waiting for a reply. Typical.

---

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝑳𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒐'𝒔 𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎

Siddhi burst in like she always did with too much energy and no concept of volume. She held up two folders in one hand and a packet of Bourbon biscuits in the other.

Siddhi said in energetic tone "Tell me you have coffee. Or tell me where Bhola da hides the good beans."

Paro tried to smile again, but it didn't quite reach her eyes this time. She stood by the window, hugging her arms. Siddhi immediately noticed. Her face dropped as she stepped closer.

Siddhi gently said to her and keep her hand on Paro's shoulder which she needed "Hey… what happened?"

Paro didn't speak at first. Then, with a sigh, she turned and sat down at the edge of her bed.

"I didn't go anywhere. I just went to College Street… and came home to another war." Paro said quietly.

Siddhi sat beside her, placing the folders aside.

Paro continued, "They make me feel like… I'm wrong just for wanting a little space. A little time. Like I'm selfish for breathing without permission."

Siddhi didn't interrupt.

Paro's eyes filled with tears. "I came back home to this... silence that screams."

Siddhi listened, not interrupting. Then she simply reached over and pulled Paro into a hug, which she needed most. Then she reached into the biscuit packet and handed Paro one.

Siddhi said, "First of all, you need sugar. Emotionally and physically."

Paro chuckled weakly and took it.

Siddhi continued while making a matter-of-fact face. "Second, you're not wrong for needing space. You're human, not house decor." "They think I'm ungrateful." Paro said with a bitter smile. Siddhi replied.

"No. They think they're protecting you. But they don't realize they're also… shrinking you." Paro leaned her head on Siddhi's shoulder, a single tear slipping down. Paro said quietly, "I hate that I still hope." Siddhi replied softly, "Good. Never stop hoping. That's how the universe knows you're still playing."

They sat in silence.

Siddhi wiped her tears and hugged her. After some time Siddhi took a sip of the coffee and made Paro too. Siddhi changed the topic because she knows it's the only way to make her feel good again.

Siddhi winched and said, "Okay, now I know your sadness is serious because this coffee tastes like boiled rain." Paro laughed, covering her face.

Then Siddhi clapped her hands suddenly. And said, "Okay. Plan. We skip college. Ditch the chem project for now. You make us bad coffee, I'll complain dramatically, we'll watch sad movies and cry at scenes that have nothing to do with us, and maybe I'll teach you how to make actual coffee." Paro smiled through tears and hugged her, "You're annoying." Siddhi hugged her back, "I'm your annoying soulmate."

They both laughed, the kind of laugh that comes not from joy but relief. The sound of not being alone in a feeling anymore.

Paro said, "I love how your support comes with caffeine and chaos." Siddhi replied, "I'm the full package."

And outside, far across the city, the rain returned softly, not with thunder this time, but like a quiet promise that things... might still find their way.

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𝑳𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕- 𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒌'𝒔 𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒐𝒑

Mayank and Aabir sat on the rooftop, their usual place. Facing the sky, listening to their favorite 90s vintage songs, journal open, pen hovering.

Aabir broke the silence and asked, "Are you going back tomorrow?" Mayank nodded. "Yeah. Same spot. Same time." Aabir said, "You remember we waited a whole day there." Mayank said while looking at the sky, "I know." Aabir continued, "And still no clue? No name, nothing? We have nothing." Mayank finally looked at him and said, "Just a feeling. That's all I've got."

Aabir looked at him and asked, "You still believe she'll come back?" Mayank didn't look at him but replied, "I don't know if she'll come back. But I know I'll wait like she will." Aabir paused a little bit and continued, "That's not love, bro. That's faith. And it's dangerous." Mayank laughed softly. "I know. But what's the point of love without a little danger?"

Aabir looks at him for a long beat. Then leans back against the wall.

Aabir said and smiled softly. "You know, it's crazy. But I don't think you're wrong." "What?" Mayank gets confused. Aabir chuckled softly. "The way you talk about it… it wasn't just some crush. It was like… a heartbeat skipped in time. That doesn't happen every day."

Mayank says nothing, just stares at the moon and the closed star of the moon.

Aabir breaks the silence again. "I've seen you bored, broken, and zoned out. But not like this. Not this awake. So yeah, I'll believe in this ghost girl if it means you keep showing up to your own life again."

Mayank lets that sink in. And then, he smiles softly, gratefully.

Mayank replied, "Thanks, man." Aabir shrugs. "Don't thank me yet. I'm the one standing in the rain with you for a girl we're not even sure is real. I should be getting a medal." Mayank replied, "You'll get my last samosa." Aabir said in mock scandalized, "Now that's love."

They both laugh again.

Mayank doesn't reply. But his silence isn't empty. It's full of a hundred unwritten lines.

Aabir said again in a seriouse tone,"You ever think of letting go?" Mayank looked at him, "Letting go of what?" Aabir continued.

"Of that sound. That street. That feeling. It's been a day, man. No signs. No name. What if she is not yours to be found?" Mayank nodded slowly, understanding his concern. "Maybe. But she didn't feel like a mistake, Aabir. She felt like a comma." Aabir raised his brows. "A comma?" Mayank smiled to himself and said, "Not an ending. Not even a beginning. Just... a pause. One that made me want to read again." Aabir leaned back again and said,"You're still holding on."

Mayank replied softly, "I'm not holding on to her. I'm holding on to what I felt when I saw her. That version of me. I don't want to lose him again." Aabir nodded, understanding him,"Then let's not give up. We'll go again tomorrow." Mayank nodded.

Sometimes, the universe sends someone not to stay, but to stir.

To rattle the quiet.

To leave behind a question you never knew you were meant to ask.

Maybe she was a story Mayank wasn't supposed to finish.

Just one Mayank was...

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