Jayant

Alisha's words were still reverberating in my ears like broken glass as I stood motionless, gazing at the way she walked out. My heart refused to believe them, yet a part of me knew... she hadn't lied completely. Not everything she said was false. Nevertheless, it broke me how abruptly and brutally she had spoken it.
Throughout the years, Alisha had never said anything hurtful to me, not even in jest or out of rage. So why today? Why did she tear my heart into pieces as if it meant nothing?

I was still lost in that storm when Rishi came running, out of breath and with wide eyes. "Jayant! What are you doing here? Alisha passed out-she fell! Aransh has brought her to the room. "Come quickly!" The ground moved under me. My chest felt tight. I ran with him without thinking, and my heart was pounding in my ears. But as soon as I got to the door, I stopped. I couldn't go any further.

Inside, Aransh sat beside her, gently rubbing her hand, his face etched with worry. Rishi quickly went to her side too, speaking softly, trying to comfort her unconscious body.

And me?
I stood at the threshold, my hands clenched, my heart aching.

Her words came back to me like knives-"Go away from my life. Let me live on my own terms. Forget the promise, forget the past."

I had held on to that promise for years, believing it was what bound us, believing it gave my life meaning. But maybe... maybe I was wrong. Maybe I had chained us both to something we could never carry anymore.

The truth stung. She wasn't alone. She had people-Aransh, Rishi-people who cared for her, who stood beside her without the weight of old promise. My presence wasn't as necessary as I had convinced myself it was. Perhaps I was the one suffocating her.

My eyes burned, my throat tightened. Slowly, almost unwillingly, my feet began to retreat. Step by step, I moved back, as if the room itself was pushing me out.

"Jayant!" Rishi's voice broke through, sharp and urgent. "What are you doing there? Come inside! Be with Alisha!"

But I couldn't.

I turned away, ignoring his voice, my chest heavy with a silence that felt like death itself. Without a word, I walked away, leaving her behind-just as she had asked me to.

<•∆∆∆∆∆•>

I sat on the barstool, staring blankly at the polished counter. laughter echoed in the distance, but I hadn't ordered a single drink. I just sat there-heavy, restless, hollow.

Rishi slid onto the stool beside me, his presence quiet but deliberate.
"Kya hai bhai?" he said, glancing at the untouched counter. "You're sitting in a bar, but you haven't ordered a single drink?"

His tone was light, almost teasing, but I wasn't in the mood. I gave him a sidelong glance and spoke in a clipped tone.
"Tum kyu aaye yaha, Rishi?"

"Why are you here, Rishi?"

"Same reason as you," he replied instantly, without missing a beat. "To drink."

I didn't respond, only kept staring at him for a moment before letting out a short, humorless laugh.

"Should I order one for you too?" he asked. "No. Leave it." I said.

We sat in silence for a while. I could feel him watching me, waiting for the wall I had built to crack. And finally, he spoke.

"Tell me, Jayant," he said softly. "What's going on between you and Alisha?"

The question pierced through me. I wasn't ready to voice it, wasn't ready to let anyone see the storm tearing me apart. But before I could stop myself, the words escaped.

"You knew," I said suddenly, my voice low, almost trembling. "You knew about her feelings for me."

Rishi didn't flinch. He didn't even look surprised. Instead, his lips curved into the faintest, saddest smile.

"Yes," he admitted quietly. "I knew. From the very first day she walked into Class 8, Section C."

His words hit me like a blow. My chest tightened. All these years, she had carried it-alone. And all these years, I had been blind.

My voice cracked under the weight of sorrow. "Rishi... why didn't you ever tell me?"

Rishi didn't blink. His reply was calm, but there was a heaviness in it.
"She asked me not to. She made me promise."

My throat tightened, words spilling out in a trembling tone "Still... you could've given me a hint. Just once. Something."

Rishi's gaze softened. He reached out, resting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I thought you'd see it yourself. I thought one day you'd finally understand. But you took too long, my friend. Far too long."

A tear slipped down the corner of his eye. I stood abruptly, needing to leave before broke completely. But Rishi's voice stopped me. "Jayant," he said firmly, "you still don't know half of what Alisha has been through."

I turned, reluctant but desperate, chest felt heavy, breath uneven. "I don't want to know anymore, Rishi. I..i ca..can't."

But Rishi stepped closer, his tone softening into something almost brotherly "Then at least know this one thing. She stayed silent all these years for you-not for herself. She didn't tell you because she couldn't bear the thought of you feeling guilty. She didn't want your sympathy. She didn't want to be the reason you blamed yourself for anything. Alisha would rather be broken a thousand times than watch you hurt once."

I froze. hands clenched at my sides. The words pierced me deeper than any blade could. Was i doing exactly what she had feared all along-pitying her, drowning in guilt instead of seeing her love?

I whispered "She doesn't even want to see my face anymore, Rishi. She's not the same Alisha. Everything has changed."

Rishi shook his head, firm and unwavering.
"Alisha can never change. Not when it comes to you. Her love... it's the one thing in this world that will never shift."

He paused, letting the words sink in, then added quietly,
"She didn't go to Mumbai to build a career, Jayant. She went there to escape you. To escape the life that kept tying her to you. She chose to leave everyone-her friends, her family-just to keep distance from you. If you truly want to know the real Alisha... then find the one who survived those five years in Mumbai. Only then will you understand who she became."

And with that, Rishi turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, motionless, feet felt cemented to the floor, chest hollow. I watched Rishi disappear into the crowd, but Rishi's words kept echoing in my ears, carving deeper wounds than silence ever could.

My chest rose and fell unevenly, a war raging inside me. She left... not for herself, not for her dreams-but for me? Every memory of Alisha came rushing back-her smile in childhood, her quiet sacrifices, her unshaken loyalty. And i... i had been blind all these years.

Seventeen years, Alisha. Seventeen years you gave me everything-and I mistook it for nothing.

A bitter laugh escaped, sharp and broken. And I accused her of lying... when all she ever did was protect me.

For the first time in my life, I felt small. Fragile, heart screamed to run back, to find her, to hold her until she believed I would never let go again. But another voice-colder, harsher-whispered inside me She doesn't want to see you anymore. She chose to walk away. Maybe this time, you have to let her.

<•∆∆∆∆∆•>

Alokh uncle's arm wrapped protectively around Alisha as he led her away. I stood rooted, watching her retreating figure until she vanished beyond the sight. For the first time all evening, a strange sense of relief settled over me-at least she was safe. In her father's care, she was in the most secure hands possible, far beyond my reach, far from the chaos I seemed to drag into her life.

But the night wasn't done. A few moments later, I caught sight of Dip and Bhumika. Their laughter dimmed the instant their eyes met mine. I walked over, the weight of guilt pressing every step, and without hesitation, I offered my apology.

Bhumika, gentle as always, gave me a soft smile. "It's alright, Jayant. Forget it."

Dip, however, wasn't as forgiving. He folded his arms, his tone sharp. "It's okay jayant. Why would I care what you think about me? I tolerate you for one reason only- Alisha. Beyond that, you're nothing to me."

I met his gaze with equal bluntness. "The feeling's mutual."

The words were sharp, but beneath them, a thought gnawed at me: They know. Dip, Bhumika... perhaps even the rest of our circle. Did they already know what I had been too blind to see? Did they know Alisha's heart better than I did?

A question rose in me, pressing hard against my chest. Should I ask them? Should I finally dig for the truth everyone else seemed to already hold? But the answer came as quickly as the question: No. Not Dip. He owes me nothing. Why would he tell me anything?

Later, I returned home. The house was quiet, my parents already asleep. I slipped into my room, and collapsed on my bed. But sleep refused to come.

Rishi's words kept replaying in my mind like an endless echo. His voice, steady and raw: She left not for her career, but to escape you. To protect you. To protect herself.

I closed my eyes, but instead of rest, visions of her filled the darkness. Her laughter, her tears, the way she had once looked at me as though I was her whole world. And now... now she wanted me gone.

<•∆∆∆∆∆•>

Day 5

I was standing at alisha's door very next morning, before the city had fully awakened. I ring the doorbell. The door opened, it was Uncle-his face calm, familiar, yet unreadable.

"Jayant tum, abhi, Come in," he said warmly.

"Alisha isn't home," he said, almost before I could breathe. "She left early for Dip's place. Mehendi, haldi... you know."

I blinked, taken aback. "Uncle, I didn't even ask you about her."

He chuckled lightly. "Haan haan par tum puchte na"

("Yes, but you would ask.")

That quiet amusement of his made me feel as though I'd been read too easily.

"Breakfast?" he offered. "Though you'll have to wait. It will take time."

I shook my head quickly. "No, Uncle... it's fine."

But another question rose before I could stop myself, softer this time. "Uncle... Aransh isn't here? He's been staying with you all, hasn't he?"

Uncle's eyes flickered. "He went with Alisha."

I hesitated, then pushed the words out. "Do you... do you like Alisha with him?"

He paused, weighing the question, and then finally nodded. "They're good together. Why? You don't like Aransh?"

"It's not about liking," I said carefully, fighting to keep my voice steady. "I just... don't know him."

"Then get to know him," Uncle replied simply.

The weight of his words pressed down on me, but I still managed a nod.

I hesitated again before asking, "Uncle... would it be alright if I went to Alisha's room? I need something important, just... something I left there."

His brows rose, a flicker of suspicion in his gaze. "I can bring it for you. Tell me what it is."

I swallowed. "I'd rather get it myself."

He studied me for a long moment, then smirked. "Tum to phle itna nhi puchte the." But then his expression softened into a teasing smile. "Go on then. Take what you need."

("You didn't ask so much before.")

I didn't wait. I straight went to her room direction as I entered her room. The scent of her lingered in the air-soft, familiar, a mixture of books, faint perfume, and something I couldn't name. My eyes roamed the space before settling on what I had come for. Quietly, almost guiltily, I took the keys to her Mumbai flat.

As I left, Uncle's voice called after me from below. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

I turned, clutching the keys tightly in my fist. "Yes, Uncle."

But before stepping out, an impulse stopped me. I turned back. "Uncle... can I ask you something? If you don't mind?"

His smile faded, replaced with a heaviness I hadn't seen before. "Don't ask, Jayant. Whatever you're searching for, I don't have the answer."

"Still... Uncle-"

He interrupted gently, but firmly. "Can i request you something instead. If you don't mind."

"Of course," I said instantly, leaning forward, desperate.

His words landed like a blow. "Stay away from Alisha. That's all."

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. I stared at him, stunned, every nerve in my body screaming in disbelief. Stay away? Why?

But he gave me nothing more. Just silence.

I walked out in a daze, my feet heavy, my mind burning with questions I couldn't ask.

As I stepped outside, I nearly bumped into Sumit. He was with a girl-Kusum, I remembered.

"Hi, Jayant bhaiya," Kusum greeted sweetly, but Sumit quickly gestured for her to go upstairs. She obeyed without protest.

"Sumit," I said, forcing a smile. "How are you? It's been a while since we met."

"I'm fine," he replied shortly.

"Come," I said, my voice gentler than I felt. "Walk with me."

He agreed, and we moved side by side down the lane. After a while, I said, "You know your sister well, don't you?"

He shook his head. "Not as much as you think. She doesn't share much with me-I'm the younger one."

"But you must have figured out something," I pressed. "You must have noticed... something."

He stopped walking and turned to me, his eyes sharper than I'd expected. "Ask clearly, bhaiya. What exactly do you want to know about my sister?"

The way he looked at me in that moment-sharp, guarded-was the same look Alok uncle had worn at the moment ago when he told me to stay away from Alisha. And his voice carried that same finality, that same silent warning.

It struck me like a cold truth-neither her Father, nor her brother, nor even Alisha herself wanted me in her life. Every path I took toward her seemed to close, one by one, shutting me out before I could even reach her.

So I swallowed the words I truly wanted to say, forced a faint smile, and told Sonu softly, "Nothing. Just... take care of your sister."
Without waiting for his reply, I turned and walked away.

Before leaving for Mumbai, I stopped by Dip's place. From a distance, my eyes caught Alisha. She was on the terrace, practicing dance steps with Aransh for the sangeet. Laughter spilled from her lips, light and unrestrained, the kind that once had the power to heal everything inside me.

She looked... happy. Radiant even.

But lately, I couldn't tell anymore which smile was hers-the real one, or the mask she wore so well. That uncertainty gnawed at me, leaving me restless.

For a while, I stood there, quietly watching. Watching her twirl, watching her lean into someone else's rhythm, her laughter blending with his. And then, before the weight inside me grew unbearable, I turned and walked away.

<•∆∆∆∆∆•>

In Mumbai

I unlocked the door and stepped quietly into Alisha's flat. The air inside felt heavy, I turned on the light, and the space came alive.

This was the place where she had lived for five long years. Alone. Away from me. Away from everyone who once called her theirs.

Slowly, I wandered through the flat, my fingers brushing over the walls lined with framed photographs, the carefully placed furniture, everything speaking of a life she had built without us. Without me. Rishi's words echoed in my mind-"Then find the one who survived those five years in Mumbai. Only then will you understand who she became."

When I entered her bedroom, it felt like stepping directly into her world. Her cupboard was filled neatly-rows of white dresses, almost all the same. Nothing there told me what I was desperate to know. Nothing spoke of secrets, yet I knew they were hidden here, somewhere.

Then my gaze fell on her writing desk. The place where she must have poured herself out when no one was watching. Books were stacked in uneven piles-some gathering dust, some carefully wrapped, as though too precious to be disturbed. Drafts lay scattered, guarded as if they were fragments of her soul. I moved closer, and there they were-two of her published books, stacked side by side. I picked one up. I had never really read her novels, though I had heard her narrate bits and pieces before.

The first page caught me off guard. A simple dedication, 'For those who love but cannot say it.'

My chest tightened. I held that page for what felt like eternity, unable to let go.

With trembling hands, I pulled open the desk drawer. Inside, a bundle of letters-so many of them, stacked and hidden away. I opened another drawer. More letters. My heart raced.

I picked one at random, unfolding it carefully. The ink had faded slightly, but her words were alive, breathing.

'Bhalu, I miss you. Today, while walking alone on the road, I felt the emptiness of your absence so deeply. It's strange how the crowd was all around me, yet it was only your silence I could hear.'

My throat tightened. Every word was a blade-soft, but cutting straight through me.

I unfolded another letter with trembling hands.

'Mene khatkhata diya har wo darwaja.. jo tere dil tak jata hai..fir pta chla jawab ne to tala lga daala hai..
kisi aur ke dil me apna basera daala hai..
Kyu..hai na Bhalu'

('I knocked on every door that could lead to your heart,
but found only locks in return.
you’ve built your home in someone else’s heart.
Isn’t it true, Bhalu?')

Trembling hands I open another.
'Tujh me hi Khona chahu... Tujh me hi rahna chahu..
Duniya Teri jisme... Usme hi basna chahu..
Tumhi mera sabkuch yaha jo hai... Duniya meri jaise.. samaya tum hi me hai...'

Almost laughing crying at same time. Her shayaris.

'Bhalu, today my purse got stolen. I ran after the thief, but I couldn't catch him.'

'There's so much loneliness here, Bhalu. Nothing feels right anymore.'

I froze. One after another, I opened them all-letters stacked like pieces of her soul, written every single day, addressed only to me.

She hadn't spoken to me in years. I used to wonder how she could survive without talking to me, how she could just erase me from her days. And now I knew-she never erased me. She spoke to me every day. Just... on paper. Letters she never gave. Letters meant for me, but buried in silence.

Another one shook me:

'Bhalu, is it true? You've fallen for someone? Did you not think of me, even once?'

And another

'Today I met a boy. He was nice. He likes me. And me-like a fool-I told him not to. Should I have given him a chance, Bhalu? Should I?'

Her heart was spilling through the ink, searching for me in every breath.

'Ramya says I should change the ending of my story. She says no one wants to read a sad one. Maybe she's right. Maybe I should change it. After all, who wants to read about pain?'

I turned another, my chest tightening.

'The fictional world feels really awesome. In there, everything is possible... even you and me being together.'

By now, my hands were shaking, my pulse racing. And then-

'Something strange is happening to me, Bhalu. I've been forgetting things. Tomorrow, I'll see the doctor.'

I panicked, frantically searching for the next day's letter. Page after page, drawer after drawer-nothing. And then, among the scattered pile, I found something different. The ink was darker, the words heavier, as if she had cried while writing them.

'I'm afraid now, Bhalu. Afraid to stand in front of you and see myself in your eyes... Afraid that destiny will never allow us, no matter how much I heart dream. But I'm not afraid of dying, Bhalu. I'm only afraid of not seeing you again. That's the real death for me. I'm leaving for forever, So I'm leaving. Not because I don't love you, but because I love you too much. I can't let my pain become your burden. Be happy, Bhalu. Be happy with Shreya.'

The paper slipped from my hands.

She had written all of this-her truth, her loneliness, her fear-and hidden it away. She never gave me these words. Never let me carry her pain. And now, as I sat there with her letters scattered around me like broken pieces of her heart, I realized-I hadn't just lost her once. I'd been losing her every single day for five years, without even knowing it.

I unfolded another letter, and the words hit me like a blade straight to the chest.

'Today I met Roshni. Seeing her brought back the storm I've carried for years. I hate you, Bhalu-hate you for the words you said that day in front of everyone. Do you even realize? I never wanted to be away from you. But you pushed me away. You left me with no choice.'

My eyes burned, and before I knew it, tears blurred the page. Roshni... Even the name carried me back to that moment in college.

Her voice echoed in my head.

"Tumne jo Roshni ko kaha... tum woh mean karte ho?" she had asked me back then, her tone trembling, almost fragile.

("What you told roshni, do you mean that?")

And me-stupid, careless, arrogant-I had laughed it off. "Woh... woh to bas impress karne ke liye bola tha. Maybe... maybe a little part of me meant it."

("That...  That I just said to impress her. Maybe... maybe a little part of me meant it.")

I hadn't realized it then, but those words were the sharpest knife I could have driven into her heart.

Her eyes had searched mine with desperation. "Matlab tum sach mein maante ho...?"

("You mean you really believe...?")

And I, blind to everything, had answered casually, "She thought something was going on between us. So I made it clear-we're nothing like that. You're like my sister, Alisha. My cute Aalu. That's why I care for you so much."

"Behan jaisi..." I had said. Like it was nothing. Like it didn't matter.

"B..Beh..Behan" she repeated

She had just stood there, frozen, her face drained of every ounce of light. But I didn't stop. I kept digging the wound deeper. "Don't worry, I won't act like an elder brother with you, like stopping or restricting you. You're my best friend-best, best friend."

And then, to seal her heartbreak completely, I had pulled her into a hug.

She hadn't said a word. She hadn't cried. She hadn't even argued. She had just... fallen silent.

That silence lasted until the end of our college. And then-she left for Mumbai.

Now, sitting in her empty flat, clutching her letters, I realized it wasn't distance that had separated us. It was me. My words. My blindness.

The girl who had loved me for years, who had written to me every day, who had stood by me like no one else-what had I given her in return? A careless label. A wound disguised as affection.

And all this time, I thought I'd only hurt her unknowingly, in fragments. But no-my greatest crime had been that one moment. That one sentence.

Calling her sister.

My Aalu... how much pain did I bury inside you with those words?

Now, the shame was unbearable. My chest burned, my throat closed, and I wanted to scream at the boy I had been back then-careless, stupid, blind.

No wonder she had walked away. No wonder she had chosen distance over me.

And no wonder... she had never forgiven me.

My hands trembled as I clutched that letter, her words bleeding into me like poison. The room felt too small, the air too heavy. Every breath carried the weight of my guilt.

"Stupid... stupid!" I muttered, dragging my hands through my hair. My voice cracked in the empty silence. "Why did I say that? Why did I throw her love away like it was nothing? Sister...? How could I-how could I reduce her to that?"

I wanted to rip the pages, shred them into pieces, erase the evidence of my cruelty. My fingers curled around the fragile paper, tugging, the edges almost splitting under the force.

But I couldn't.

No matter how much I hated myself, no matter how much the words inside stabbed me, I couldn't destroy them. These letters weren't just paper. They were her voice. Her heart. Her silent screams written in ink. The only part of her that still belonged to me.

So instead, I collapsed to the floor, clutching them desperately to my chest. Tears spilled freely.

"Alisha..." I whispered, my voice broken, the name falling like a prayer and a curse together. "I killed something inside you that day, didn't I? And now I'm left holding nothing but your pain...Now I get it why you always pushing me. Why."

And for the first time in life, I wished I could go back-not to change fate, not to rewrite our story-just to hold her hand that day, look her in the eyes, and tell her the truth:

That I was hers. That I had always been hers.

<•∆∆∆∆∆•>

After a long time, when my tears finally dried, I forced myself to keep reading. Each letter pulled me deeper, each word cutting sharper than the last. And then... her novels. I turned the pages slowly, almost afraid of what I would find.

But now, I opened one. Page after page unfolded into me, and a sick realization clawed at my heart-her stories weren't just stories. They were pieces of us. Our moments, our memories, our conversations only we had lived. But she had done something I never could. She rewrote them. she gave the characters a happy ending. But in reality it's not.
It broke me.

something slipped out from between the stack of papers. A card. Plain, white, almost insignificant-yet the name printed on it struck me cold.

Dr. Randhir Khurana, Neurologist.
City hospital

For a moment, the world around me stilled. My fingers clenched around it, my pulse quickened. A doctor. Why would Alisha keep his card hidden in this drawer, alongside her letters and secrets?

I felt my throat tighten.

Suddenly, all those lines in her letters flashed before my eyes-
'Strange things are happening to me, Bhalu, I keep forgetting small things...'
'Tomorrow I'll visit a doctor.'

Alisha... she was sick.

The thought twisted like a knife in my chest. I was foolish but not now.

I stood up, my decision already made. I couldn't live with half-truths anymore. If Alisha wouldn't tell me, then I would find out myself.

I shoved the letters back carefully, placed the novels where they belonged, but the card-I held onto it like it was a key. Maybe it was.

I stepped out of her flat with a single resolve burning inside me- I would find Dr. Khurana.
And I was going to get them-no matter what truth waited for me at the end.
No matter how much it broke me.

___________________________________________

🫶🫶

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