I couldn't help but wonder - what are they talking about?
Is it about farming? Or is he sharing something deeper?
Why am I so curious about him?
I don't even know who he is - where he came from.
But I wish... I wish I could become his friend.
I wish someone could like having me in their life.
I've lived alone for so long.
Most of my days... just sitting in the same spot.
Watching the world pass by.
Already one day had passed at my home. Papa was busy with his farming, Mom was caught up in her household chaos, and my brother was at his college. I was working in the kitchen.
Tej was sitting at the dining table, eating breakfast.
It was awkward - only the two of us were alone in the hall.
His phone rang.
"Hmm," he replied every few seconds - a soft "hmm," like he was uncomfortable with my presence.
I walked out of there.
He noticed.
He glanced at me... for the first time, he really looked at me.
His eyes looked sad... helpless.
It seemed like he had lost everything.
Losing your parents breaks you from the inside.
His face clearly showed the loneliness he carried within -
Just like me.
But we are different.
He's not like me...
Or is he?
Today, Bua arrived at our home.
When she came, everything seemed normal.
But at night, she told my mom that her husband had cheated on her... and she was planning to divorce him.
The whole house fell into silence.
The TV was turned off.
Papa sat quietly, staring at the empty sky.
For the first time, I saw my father break.
Tears fell from his eyes - was it because he couldn't protect his sister?
Because he couldn't give her the life she deserved?
Tej didn't come down for dinner.
Mom stayed in her room with Bua.
The sound of sobbing echoed clearly through the walls.
"Why did he do this to me, Bhabhi?"
"I truly trusted him... I never thought he'd do this to me."
She kept repeating the same thing, over and over -
"Why? Why? Why?"
Mom didn't say anything for a long while.
What could she even say?
Eventually, her voice came, quiet and heavy,
"You're carrying a child within you... think about that."
A child...
The only reason Bua hadn't ended her life.
She truly loved him.
She could've died for him.
I know that...
I took the tray - chapati, sabzi, everything - and walked to mom's room.
I knocked softly,
"Mom... dinner."
My quiet voice echoed through the whole house.
She replied, her voice broken and tense,
"Place it on the dining table... and call your father."
Bua was still crying inside.
I placed everything on the table.
Dinner didn't taste like it usually did.
It was hard for my parents to even swallow it tonight.
While we were all eating - or at least pretending to - Mom suddenly paused and said, "Tej isn't here." It was a family matter, and maybe he thought staying away was the respectful thing to do, to avoid any awkwardness or tension.
"Mimi, go give him his dinner," Mom said gently, placing food on a plate. That plate was meant for Tej.
I picked up the tray and walked toward the stairs. The house felt eerily silent, like it was mourning... and maybe, in a way, it was.
When I reached upstairs, I knocked softly on his door. He opened it. His eyes met mine briefly, but I kept my gaze on the tray. He held the door from the side, as if silently asking me not to step inside.
But I walked in anyway and placed the tray on a small table in front of his bed. To the right of the room, a packet of cigarettes lay untouched. Beside it was an empty liquor bottle - both signs of his drowning thoughts.
"You can go now," he said from the doorway, his voice low.
I turned back to look at him, as if I wanted to say something. But he had a cigarette between his fingers. He took a slow drag, then exhaled a breath full of smoke - tired, heavy, and hollow.
He looked like someone who had given up inside.