<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0" xmlns:itunes="http://www.itunes.com/dtds/podcast-1.0.dtd" xmlns:googleplay="http://www.google.com/schemas/play-podcasts/1.0"><channel><title><![CDATA[HEARTSTRINGS: STORIES]]></title><description><![CDATA[The intriguing ones for sure. ]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/s/stories</link><image><url>https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!zZWa!,w_256,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F409b2cab-5064-4675-9e0f-452d1c2a1a7f_1080x1080.png</url><title>HEARTSTRINGS: STORIES</title><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/s/stories</link></image><generator>Substack</generator><lastBuildDate>Tue, 05 May 2026 14:31:15 GMT</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/feed" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><copyright><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></copyright><language><![CDATA[en]]></language><webMaster><![CDATA[amelioratinga@substack.com]]></webMaster><itunes:owner><itunes:email><![CDATA[amelioratinga@substack.com]]></itunes:email><itunes:name><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></itunes:name></itunes:owner><itunes:author><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></itunes:author><googleplay:owner><![CDATA[amelioratinga@substack.com]]></googleplay:owner><googleplay:email><![CDATA[amelioratinga@substack.com]]></googleplay:email><googleplay:author><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></googleplay:author><itunes:block><![CDATA[Yes]]></itunes:block><item><title><![CDATA[The Stupid Fish (Part-2)]]></title><description><![CDATA[A story about a fish learning to exist.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-stupid-fish-part-2</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-stupid-fish-part-2</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Thu, 08 Jan 2026 15:18:34 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1496044601873-3f373ec781b5?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNnx8ZmlzaCUyMGluJTIwb2NlYW58ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3ODg0NjQ2fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="pullquote"><p> <strong>Disclaimer- </strong>This is a piece of fiction. Any similarity to real names, people, or events, is purely coincidental.</p></div><p><strong>This is continuation of the Part-1. You can check out Part-1 here-</strong></p><div class="digest-post-embed" data-attrs="{&quot;nodeId&quot;:&quot;2ae7d88f-c8e2-4055-af8c-171146931419&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;Disclaimer- This is a piece of fiction. Any similarity to real names, people, or events, is purely coincidental.&quot;,&quot;cta&quot;:&quot;Read full story&quot;,&quot;showBylines&quot;:true,&quot;size&quot;:&quot;md&quot;,&quot;isEditorNode&quot;:true,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;The Stupid Fish (Part-1)&quot;,&quot;publishedBylines&quot;:[{&quot;id&quot;:322261931,&quot;name&quot;:&quot;Ameliorating A&quot;,&quot;bio&quot;:&quot;'I'm just a little bit, caught in the middle, life's a maze and love is a riddle.'&quot;,&quot;photo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2d176cc3-2036-4d80-8d63-0e8a11909d48_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;is_guest&quot;:false,&quot;bestseller_tier&quot;:null}],&quot;post_date&quot;:&quot;2026-01-04T13:37:28.463Z&quot;,&quot;cover_image&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;cover_image_alt&quot;:null,&quot;canonical_url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-stupid-fish-part-1&quot;,&quot;section_name&quot;:&quot;STORIES&quot;,&quot;video_upload_id&quot;:null,&quot;id&quot;:183408436,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;newsletter&quot;,&quot;reaction_count&quot;:16,&quot;comment_count&quot;:14,&quot;publication_id&quot;:4569659,&quot;publication_name&quot;:&quot;HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;publication_logo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!zZWa!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F409b2cab-5064-4675-9e0f-452d1c2a1a7f_1080x1080.png&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;youtube_url&quot;:null,&quot;show_links&quot;:null,&quot;feed_url&quot;:null}"></div><div><hr></div><p><strong>A few hours later&#8212;</strong></p><p>She was in her room&#8212;upstairs. Her temples were throbbing, and tears had already soaked the loose end of the scarf.</p><p><em>[You don&#8217;t deserve to live. You don&#8217;t. You&#8217;re just a fucking idiot. How can you even say that? What kind of a monster does something like this?]</em></p><p>She removed her glasses, switched off the lights, and lay down on the bed with all the layers still on.</p><p><em>[I hate you, Leher. I hate you.]</em></p><p><em>I wish I didn&#8217;t exist. I am just a burden. How will I face them tomorrow? How will I live from here on?</em></p><p><em>[I hate you. I hate you.]</em></p><p>The streams of tears weren&#8217;t stopping and at this point, even watching the phone wasn&#8217;t working.</p><p><em>I wish I was dead. I am the worst sister. I don&#8217;t deserve to be in this house. I am just a freaking burden.</em></p><p><em>[Just die. Please just die yourself, Leher. How could you do that to your brother?]</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t want him to be gone. I just said it because I was angry.</em></p><p><em>But this is not normal. This was not okay. I love him. I love him the most. </em></p><p><em>How can I say that to him? How can I?</em></p><p><em>I am such a monster. I am such a monster. How will I go downstairs tomorrow?</em></p><p><em>I can no longer live here. I am a criminal.</em></p><p><em>[This is abuse, you know that, right?]</em></p><p><em>He doesn&#8217;t deserve to hear these things in his childhood.</em></p><p><em>[You really should die, Leher. How can any sister say that? You can&#8217;t justify it. No sorry could fix it. How deeply it must have affected him?]</em></p><p><em>What should I even do? </em></p><p><em>I can&#8217;t do this. I can&#8217;t.</em></p><blockquote><p><em>The fish should die. It doesn&#8217;t deserve to live.</em></p><div><hr></div></blockquote><p>No amount of effort to sleep bore fruit. Her heart was racing. Her eyes were pouring and guilt submerged her. The possibility of the next day disgusted her. The scene of the fight with her brother was playing in her mind constantly.</p><p><em>Why does he always do that? I wasn&#8217;t even annoying him. He started the fight. Mamma also doesn&#8217;t take my side ever. </em></p><p><em>What&#8217;s wrong with him? Why is he like that?</em></p><p>She turned to the other side but then lay down on her back.</p><p><em>T</em>he physical part of the fight hurt way less than the words that came out of her mind. They both had hit each other, even when their mother had tried to stop them.</p><p>The anger, the guilt, her irresponsibility in the moment, all seemed to be running in circles inside her mind.</p><p>She had said &#8220;sorry&#8221; to his brother and he had apologized just moments later too, but still that sorry couldn&#8217;t hold the weight of the damage.</p><p><em>Why are we not like other siblings?</em></p><p><em>Where did I go wrong?</em></p><p><em>Why am I alive even? Why had I been born?</em></p><p><em>He&#8217;s such a cute kid, but what&#8217;s with all the disrespect? Why doesn&#8217;t he respect me?</em></p><p><em>[Like you&#8217;re someone who deserves to be respected, right?]</em></p><p><em>I am the worst sister ever. I am the worst person. I can&#8217;t even handle friendships, can&#8217;t even be a good person in my own home, can&#8217;t even do anything valuable.</em></p><p><em>What&#8217;s the purpose of me being here then?</em></p><p><em>I am tired of myself. I am tired of messing up. I am tired of everything. I hate everything.</em></p><p>Her mother called her downstairs, &#8220;Leher! Come downstairs.&#8221;</p><p>She didn&#8217;t reply. Her mom saw that the lights in her room were switched off <em>and</em> assumed that she had slept.</p><div><hr></div><p>The silence of the night, the silver moon light seeping in through the Roshandaan (skylight), the clutter of voices inside her mind, and buzzing of mosquitos around her ears, all made her feel even more isolated and guilty.</p><p>It was getting late. The night darkened as if black ink was dripping constantly from the sky.</p><p><em>I gotta sleep. I have to go to class too.</em></p><p><em>I am tired...</em></p><p>She exhaled and wiped her tears, went to the washroom, washed her face with stinging cold water and switched on &#8216;Good Knight&#8217; for mosquitoes. She gulped down a few sips of water from the water bottle. The feeling of cold water in her dry throat felt a bit soothing. She removed the jacket but didn&#8217;t seem to have energy to remove the socks.</p><p><em>[You&#8217;re the worst person alive. You are the worst.]</em></p><p>After some more warm tears soaking her pillow, she fell asleep.</p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Next Day Morning&#8212;</strong></p><p>It was ten o&#8217; clock in the morning. Leher had been awake since six. She had gotten bored of watching the phone; she had tried reading too and had finally switched to studying a bit&#8212;running out of options.</p><p>Her mom had already called her downstairs twice, but she only said, &#8220;Yes&#8221; both times.</p><p>Her stomach was growling from hunger. Her eyes were feeling heavy. She heard her brother apologizing to her mom for the misbehavior and her mother reprimanding him.</p><p><em>I don&#8217;t want to show my face downstairs. I can&#8217;t go.</em></p><p><em>I can&#8217;t. What will I even say?</em></p><p><em>Mom will also scold me only.</em></p><p>She massaged her eyes gently. She looked at the phone&#8217;s camera and saw her eyes swollen from all the crying yesterday. Her temples were still aching.</p><p><em>I can&#8217;t even take medicine for this damn headache on an empty stomach. I wish mom would call me once more. I am really hungry.</em></p><p>She imagined how difficult it must be for homeless people. Hunger must feel like pain to them. The smell of bread getting toasted in the ghee made her even hungrier.</p><p><em>Dreams are all a lie. They are for people who are capable. I am certainly not capable.</em></p><p>She put on some music, covered herself with the blanket, and started reading again. Her hands and feet were cold. The water bottle was almost empty, too.</p><p><em>I want tea. It&#8217;s so freaking cold.</em></p><p>She pulled the blanket upto her face and leaned on the wall. The wall felt cold, even through her jacket, but offered support anyway and turned on her phone&#8217;s flashlight for reading inside the blanket tent.</p><p>She heard someone coming upstairs. She recognized the person through footsteps. She sat up straight and her eyes started to tear up again.</p><p>The door opened and there he was&#8212;her brother.</p><p>&#8220;Didi, come on now. Mamma is calling you for tea,&#8221; he said, and went closer to her.</p><p>She looked at him.</p><p><em>He&#8217;s definitely hurt. I don&#8217;t deserve him at all.</em></p><p>When she didn&#8217;t say anything, he came even closer and extended his arm, with his pinky finger sticking out of his fist, towards her.</p><p>&#8220;I&#8217;m sorry, didi. I&#8217;ll not fight again. I am sorry. Let&#8217;s go downstairs now. Please be &#8216;milli&#8217; (be friends) with me now,&#8221; he said with a crackled voice.</p><p>Tears were flowing from her eyes and seeing her, he started crying too.</p><p>&#8220;I am really sorry for saying that. I didn&#8217;t mean it at all. You&#8217;re the most precious thing to me. I am really sorry. I should have never said that. Please forgive me. I promise I&#8217;ll never do something like this again. I am sorry. I love you, Taru. I&#8217;m really sorry,&#8221; she said and hugged him tightly.</p><p>The tears kept flowing as she held him in her embrace.</p><p>&#8220;I am a burden to you. I shouldn&#8217;t have been born. I am sorry,&#8221; he said at last.</p><p>The sentence killed her inside. Her heart sank and she couldn&#8217;t speak for a moment.</p><p>&#8220;I&#8217;m sorry. I&#8217;m really sorry to have said all that to you. You&#8217;re not a burden, Taru. You&#8217;re the most precious thing to me. I&#8217;m so sorry. I am really so sorry. I know I can&#8217;t make it up to you, but I promise I&#8217;ll be a better sister moving forward. I&#8217;m really sorry. Please don&#8217;t say that. It was my fault. I messed up. I am really sorry,&#8221; she spoke after a while. Tears from her cheeks were soaking his cap in the embrace.</p><p>&#8220;Okay. I will try to be better too. Let&#8217;s forget it. Come downstairs now and have tea,&#8221; he said, and wiped her tears. She looked at him and kissed his forehead again. She hesitated to go downstairs. Taru pulled her arm and led her downstairs.</p><div><hr></div><p>The day passed slowly. Everybody was acting normal, but the weight of feelings was still heavy in the air.</p><p>In the noon, Leher and Taru played together. Leher kissed him so many times. She tried to repair the damage done, but she knew the impact was much larger this time.</p><p>In the evening, she was zoned out while watching a video.</p><p><em>This is exactly called trauma. What he&#8217;ll think when he grows up? He&#8217;ll hate me...</em></p><p><em>And most importantly, I just hope he doesn&#8217;t feel unloved. What did I even say?</em></p><p><em>Why?</em></p><p><em>Why? I am such an idiot.</em></p><p><em>He didn&#8217;t deserve it. Yeah, he started the fight, he escalated it, he hurt me first, but still, I am older. I should have had sense. He&#8217;s just a kid yet.</em></p><p><em> I keep saying that to myself and I projected that onto him. How can I do this?</em></p><p><em>I am ruining his childhood&#8230;</em></p><p>Taru calling her broke her chain of thoughts and she tried to smile, looking at him. He was telling her about something and she listened actively this time.</p><p>The day continued and everything on the surface felt so normal, so usual.</p><p>It was bedtime and today, Leher, as usual, slept downstairs with Taru, and her mother.</p><p>The night passed with thoughts of being an idiot, kisses and warm blankets. The hurt on both sides was still there, but it had become bearable.</p><div><hr></div><p>Over the next few days, things started getting back to normal. Taru and Leher did argue over small things in this period, as usual, but they didn&#8217;t start a big fight.</p><p>Meanwhile, Leher observed other things that made the stupid fish seem even more stupid.</p><p>She was scrolling through Instagram on a random evening, and she saw her friends hanging out together.</p><p><em>They used to call me too, earlier.</em></p><p><em>[It was only expected. You never agree to go out with them. What else do you think they should have done?]</em></p><p><em>Why am I such a bad friend?</em></p><p><em>[Because you&#8217;re a weirdo.]</em></p><p>Her mind became numb for a few seconds.</p><p>She recalled how it had been the same since forever. She was never a cool friend. Talking to others exhausted her sometimes, and staying on her own made her miserable and lonely.</p><p><em>[The fish deserves to be all alone if she can&#8217;t fit in with others. That should be its destiny. That should be its life. I don&#8217;t know why it even tries.]</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t like getting attached to anyone. It hurts. The distance is only good, I think.</em></p><p>She exited the app and switched to YouTube.</p><p><em>[Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.]</em></p><p>The scrolling continued and everything was quiet again. Her face was expressionless, and an hour and a half passed before she consciously switched off her phone.</p><p>&#8220;Leher, go and bring all the clothes from the terrace. It&#8217;s getting dark,&#8221; her mom called out.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, I&#8217;m going in a bit,&#8221; Leher said flatly.</p><p>&#8220;Go now. The dew will wet them again. Don&#8217;t be lazy,&#8221; her mom said.</p><p>Leher finally got up from the bed and went to the terrace. The sky was grey and quickly turning dark. The buildings in the distance were covered in fog.</p><p>She heard prayers playing on the loudspeakers in the distance and realized how much things have changed since her childhood.</p><p>Earlier she could see the bright lights from the fair that used to take place in her city every winter. Now, buildings had gotten higher and the view all around was no longer bright and hopeful but gloomy and constrained.</p><p>She took a deep breath. The tip of her nose and her cheeks were cold. She looked at the almost dark sky and whispered, &#8220;I really need to change my life. I&#8217;m so sorry for wasting so much time. I&#8217;m sorry. I am an idiot, but I don&#8217;t want to be that for the rest of my life.&#8221;</p><p>She sighed and just stared in the distance.</p><p><em>Why do I always have to mess up everything?</em></p><p><em>Why?</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t like it at all.</em></p><p>She saw a flock of birds flying overhead, and her eyes followed their direction.</p><p><em>I don&#8217;t want to be a burden. For life&#8217;s sake, I&#8217;m twenty-one years old. And is this how a twenty-one-year-old is supposed to live? Why am I not doing anything except being a burden? What&#8217;s the point of me being here?</em></p><p>&#8220;Leher, what are you doing? Come downstairs. I am going outside with Taru. Lock the door from inside please,&#8221; her mom&#8217;s echoing voice reached her from downstairs.</p><p>She came back to reality and went downstairs with the clothes.</p><div><hr></div><p>After locking the front door, she came back to her room on the first floor. The inside was much warmer. The sudden warmth made her feel even colder. She rubbed her palms and turned on the room heater.</p><p>She looked at the wall above her desk.</p><p>Pictures of several inspiring figures&#8212;Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam, a person in a white coat, two army officers, scientist Alexander Fleming, princess Diana, picture of Shree Krishna and Arjun, tricolored flag, and several other smaller cutouts of different things&#8212;trees, clouds, moon, flowers, rainbow, different quotes, etc.</p><p>Her eyes moistened. A range of emotions were bubbling inside her. She opened her laptop and sat down on the chair.</p><blockquote><p><em>Dreams are all a lie. Why do they even exist? Why did I ever want to be anything at all?</em></p><p><em>They are for those people who have unwavering courage, determination, and strength. A loser like me can only dream but never fulfill them.</em></p><p><em>I tried, didn&#8217;t I? But the journey didn&#8217;t turn out the way I imagined. I tried and tried and tried, but still, why couldn&#8217;t I be like that?</em></p><p><em>I hate dreams. I hate goals. Life is for living only.</em></p><p><em>&#8220;Dreams are necessary&#8221;, &#8220;Always dream big&#8221;, all these are the ways of people who are capable of handling all the challenges. It&#8217;s not for someone like me who doesn&#8217;t even know what she wants to be anymore. I&#8217;m an idiot, really.</em></p><p><em>Everything feels so complex sometimes that I no longer feel like doing anything. Isn&#8217;t this the quality of an idiot? I am so tired of everything and especially me. Argh!!</em></p></blockquote><p>She stopped typing and the tension in her forehead started to build.</p><p><em>It can&#8217;t go like this for long, Leher.</em></p><p>She looked at the wall again and immediately lowered her gaze.</p><p><em>Dreams are a lie. They really are. I really should just remove all these things from here.</em></p><p>She gave the pictures good luck, and whispered, &#8220;I can&#8217;t remove them. It hurts.<em>&#8221;</em></p><p>A tiny spark of hope was still there in her. She still wanted to be a doctor, still wanted to fulfill her childhood dreams, but all that almost seemed impossible to her. She blamed her laziness for not changing the wall, but it was deeper than that.</p><p>She looked at all the books in the cupboard. Stack of her old books were there. It had been more than a year since she had quit preparing.</p><p>Her college books occupied much less space in front of them.</p><p><em>I gotta sort it soon.</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t feel like getting rid of them. I can still maybe use them, can&#8217;t I?</em></p><p><em>[Yeah, right. You can&#8217;t even focus on subjective subjects for college exams and you think you have the strength to prepare again for a year or two? Keep dreaming. It wouldn&#8217;t change that you&#8217;re still an idiot.]</em></p><p>There were no expressions on her face. She clenched her fist.</p><p><em>Yeah, I am an idiot. But I have to do something at least. I can&#8217;t keep being a burden on my parents and this world. I have to do something at least. I can&#8217;t keep being helpless.</em></p><p><em>[Dreams are a lie, remember? Didn&#8217;t we try enough? They never seem to fulfill anyway. Had you ever fulfilled any one of your dreams? What are dreams, huh? You think you can just work hard and that&#8217;s it? No. They take more than that. They demand you. The whole of you. You don&#8217;t even know who you are. You don&#8217;t remember what happened to us before? How much time it took to finally be a little okay around everything. I no longer can make anything so central in life that I feel like dying in the mid of the journey itself.]</em></p><p><em>There should be a way. Isn&#8217;t it there? I don&#8217;t how to live with these unfulfilled dreams.</em></p><p>She had sat down on the bed by this time. Her forehead was creased and two tiny warm drops of tears streamed out of her eyes. </p><p>Her heart wasn&#8217;t beating faster&#8212;she was anticipating it based on previous experiences.</p><p><em>[You&#8217;re nothing but a pretense, Leher. You just pretend. You&#8217;ve always done that. You never actually tried your best. I don&#8217;t know if it&#8217;s your fault or not. I don&#8217;t care. But you can never be anyone if you keep pretending. Which you always do.]</em></p><p>She no longer wanted to figure out anything. She closed her eyes and took two deep breaths. The voices were quiet now.</p><p>But on the red screen in front of her closed eyes, she saw various moments of her crying, trying, and giving up midway when things got so extreme in the past.</p><p>[<em>Stop pretending, Leher. Just stop pretending. You aren&#8217;t the victim. It was all your fault. Accept it. You&#8217;re just an idiot</em>.]</p><p>&#8220;Shut the hell up!&#8221; she finally said out loud.</p><p>The air felt too heavy with ambition. She saw a spider web formed in the corner of the wall and some dust on the floor.</p><p>Blood rushed to her hands and feet, and she stormed out of the room. </p><div><hr></div><p>Downstairs, she opened her phone, plugged in the earphones and played music on full volume. She searched for a song that can call her a failure and an idiot, but at the moment, she couldn&#8217;t find anything. She played a random song anyway.</p><p>Some tears also rushed down her eyes, making her vision blurry. She didn&#8217;t wipe them, just tried to play a song desperately anyhow.</p><p>At last, the music started playing in the background and she started shuffling and reshuffling the apps on her phone. The song progressed with soothing music and when the lyrics started, her restless fingers stopped.</p><div class="preformatted-block" data-component-name="PreformattedTextBlockToDOM"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false">Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published</label><pre class="text">&#8220;&#2330;&#2366;&#2305;&#2342; &#2346;&#2375; &#2331;&#2366;&#2312; &#2325;&#2366;&#2354;&#2368; &#2348;&#2342;&#2354;&#2368; 
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&#2360;&#2350;&#2351; &#2325;&#2368; &#2360;&#2369;&#2311;&#2351;&#2366;&#2305; &#2350;&#2331;&#2354;&#2368;-&#2350;&#2331;&#2354;&#2368; </pre></div><div class="preformatted-block" data-component-name="PreformattedTextBlockToDOM"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false">Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published</label><pre class="text">&#2361;&#2352; &#2352;&#2379;&#2395; &#2398;&#2367;&#2395;&#2366;&#2319;&#2305; &#2348;&#2342;&#2354;&#2375;-&#2348;&#2342;&#2354;&#2375; 
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&#2332;&#2368;&#2357;&#2344; &#2325;&#2379; &#2325;&#2381;&#2351;&#2366; &#2344;&#2366;&#2350; &#2342;&#2370;&#2305; &#2348;&#2379;&#2354;&#2379; 
&#2360;&#2366;&#2305;&#2360;&#2375;&#2306; &#2327;&#2312;&#2306; &#2324;&#2352; &#2360;&#2366;&#2305;&#2360;&#2375;&#2306; &#2344;&#2367;&#2325;&#2354;&#2368;,</pre></div><div class="preformatted-block" data-component-name="PreformattedTextBlockToDOM"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false">Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published</label><pre class="text">&#2348;&#2366;&#2361;&#2352; &#2348;&#2366;&#2352;&#2367;&#2358;, &#2349;&#2368;&#2340;&#2352; &#2348;&#2367;&#2332;&#2354;&#2368; 
&#2348;&#2366;&#2340;&#2375;&#2306; &#2325;&#2352; &#2342;&#2379; &#2309;&#2327;&#2354;&#2368;-&#2346;&#2367;&#2331;&#2354;&#2368; 
&#2332;&#2368;&#2357;&#2344; &#2325;&#2379; &#2325;&#2381;&#2351;&#2366; &#2344;&#2366;&#2350; &#2342;&#2370;&#2305; &#2348;&#2379;&#2354;&#2379; 
&#2360;&#2366;&#2305;&#2360;&#2375;&#2306; &#2327;&#2312;&#2306; &#2324;&#2352; &#2360;&#2366;&#2305;&#2360;&#2375;&#2306; &#2344;&#2367;&#2325;&#2354;&#2368; </pre></div><div class="preformatted-block" data-component-name="PreformattedTextBlockToDOM"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false">Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published</label><pre class="text">&#2348;&#2361;&#2375; &#2361;&#2357;&#2366;&#2319;&#2305; &#2360;&#2366;&#2319;-&#2360;&#2366;&#2319; 
&#2340;&#2344;&#2361;&#2366;&#2312; &#2344;&#2375; &#2325;&#2352;&#2357;&#2335; &#2348;&#2342;&#2354;&#2368; 
&#2341;&#2325; &#2325;&#2352; &#2360;&#2379;&#2312; &#2361;&#2376; &#2325;&#2361;&#2366;&#2305; &#2346;&#2375; 
&#2352;&#2306;&#2327;&#2368;&#2354;&#2375; &#2393;&#2381;&#2357;&#2366;&#2348;&#2379;&#2306; &#2325;&#2368; &#2340;&#2367;&#2340;&#2354;&#2368; </pre></div><div class="preformatted-block" data-component-name="PreformattedTextBlockToDOM"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false">Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published</label><pre class="text">&#2348;&#2366;&#2361;&#2352; &#2348;&#2366;&#2352;&#2367;&#2358;, &#2349;&#2368;&#2340;&#2352; &#2348;&#2367;&#2332;&#2354;&#2368; 
&#2324;&#2352; &#2313;&#2350;&#2381;&#2350;&#2368;&#2342;&#2375;&#2306; &#2342;&#2369;&#2348;&#2354;&#2368;-&#2346;&#2340;&#2354;&#2368; 
&#2332;&#2368;&#2357;&#2344; &#2325;&#2379; &#2325;&#2381;&#2351;&#2366; &#2344;&#2366;&#2350; &#2342;&#2370;&#2305; &#2348;&#2379;&#2354;&#2379; 
&#2342;&#2379;&#2344;&#2379;&#2306; &#2333;&#2370;&#2336;&#2375; &#2309;&#2360;&#2354;&#2368;-&#2344;&#2392;&#2354;&#2368;&#8221;</pre></div><p><strong>English Translation-</strong></p><div class="preformatted-block" data-component-name="PreformattedTextBlockToDOM"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false">Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published</label><pre class="text">[The ink of night melts and runs.
The hands of time wriggle like fish,
Every day the winds keep changing. </pre></div><div class="preformatted-block" data-component-name="PreformattedTextBlockToDOM"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false">Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published</label><pre class="text">Even the definition of this existence
Is deep one moment, shallow the next.
Tell me&#8212;what should I name this life?
Breaths go out, and breaths come in.</pre></div><div class="preformatted-block" data-component-name="PreformattedTextBlockToDOM"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false">Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published</label><pre class="text">Outside, rain; inside, lightning.
Let&#8217;s talk of things, past and present.
Tell me&#8212;what should I name this life?
Breaths go out, and breaths come in.</pre></div><div class="preformatted-block" data-component-name="PreformattedTextBlockToDOM"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false">Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published</label><pre class="text">Winds flow softly, casting shadows.
Loneliness turns on its side.
Where has it gone to sleep, exhausted&#8212;
That colourful butterfly of dreams?</pre></div><div class="preformatted-block" data-component-name="PreformattedTextBlockToDOM"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false">Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published</label><pre class="text">Outside, rain; inside, lightning.
And hopes grow thin and fragile.
Tell me&#8212;what should I name this life?
Both false&#8212;real and unreal alike.]</pre></div><p>The song was the only thing she could hear then. It echoed in her mind as if her she was absorbing it deeply. She replayed the song thrice in a row. The voices inside were quiet now.</p><p>Her face and jaw felt more relaxed than before. She played other songs from her playlist and came across some other good ones. Her mind was numb enough, finally.</p><p>After a few minutes of scrolling again, she got up.</p><p><em>Why the hell am I scrolling through shorts so much? I gotta clean my room. I gotta write that letter and I gotta go to the market tomorrow. I have so many things to do.</em></p><p><em>Yes, I have to study also.</em></p><p><em>Yes. I have to. I have to make a bit of a plan. A small one.</em></p><p><em>What do I want to do?</em></p><p><em>I want to be a doctor. Nothing can change that. Even if I can&#8217;t be that, it&#8217;s okay. I should at least try to study the text to know that I can solve the paper a few years later.</em></p><p><em>Yeah. I have to do that.</em></p><p><em>I have to manage college also.</em></p><p><em>I have to fix myself too.</em></p><p><em>I gotta fix so many things.</em></p><p><em>[Time management should be the priority.]</em></p><p><em>Yes. I&#8217;ll clean my room at night only. And then start studying a bit from tomorrow. Even the background knowledge of the subjects will help a little. I will give some time to college subjects too.</em></p><p><em>Yes. I hope I really do start it a bit. I really want to.</em></p><p><em>Yes. What if I&#8230;failed again?</em></p><p>The voices went quiet; she held her breath for a second and all she could hear was silence. Even she didn&#8217;t know how she could hear silence but the sound was there&#8212;the sound of absence of sound.</p><p>She picked up her phone again. After scrolling for five minutes, she got up from the bed and finally went back to her room.</p><p>She plugged in her earphones again, reluctantly. Her ears felt sore and she removed them. She saw her laptop and remembered the unfinished draft. She opened the file and deleted it.</p><blockquote><p><em>The fish survived not because it deserved it, but because it had been born, which was not its fault. It hadn&#8217;t drowned yet, because it still kept finding a ray of sunshine and that kept giving it hope that maybe someday it would also be like other fish and would know how to swim and survive. It was the &#8216;maybe&#8217; that kept it afloat.</em></p><p><em>Maybe it still can develop some strength. It fails again and again, but at the end, it always tries before drowning. Drowning is painful and it has grown accustomed to the pain. Yes, it is a burden, but when living in itself feels like a punishment, nothing else matters except just existing.</em></p><p><em>Maybe, I should accept the fish. Maybe the fish needs to stop forcing itself to drown and then depend on the last ray of sunshine to keep her afloat. Maybe the fish can do it. Maybe the stupid fish can someday be a normal fish. Until then, staying afloat is enough for it.</em></p><p><em>Dear Fishie,</em></p><p><em>Keep trying. You&#8217;re an idiot, but you still can be normal.</em></p><p><em>Try, try and try.</em></p></blockquote><p>She typed and a faint smile appeared on her lips.</p><p>She heard the knock on the door and it was Taru shouting from outside, &#8220;I&#8217;m home. I have brought a chocolate for you. Come soon.&#8221;</p><p>She saved the file, put the laptop away, and rushed downstairs, yelling, &#8220;Coming.&#8221;</p><div><hr></div><p>The next few days didn&#8217;t observe any larger changes. She was still scrolling for hours, she was still calling herself an idiot, she and Taru still irritated each other, and she still wasn&#8217;t studying in a &#8216;proper way&#8217;, but something had shifted.</p><p>The scrolling was interrupted at short intervals. She would turn off the screen, do her work, read the non-academic book she was reading, and then unknowingly switch back to social media and scrolling again, but she used to become aware of it and was able to stop too.</p><p>She was still hesitant to remove the posters from the wall. She still didn&#8217;t empty her cupboard. She even dusted them off.</p><div><hr></div><p>Another thing happened one day while she was scrolling on Instagram. She saw her group of friends planning something together. Her stomach knotted upon the realization of how much she didn&#8217;t belong because of her own tendency to not involve or hang out with others.</p><p><em>[You&#8217;re an idiot. Why are you like that? You can&#8217;t even fit in anywhere.]</em></p><p>She took a deep breath, ignored the voice, and commented a meme under their post.</p><p><em>Let&#8217;s be happy for them. We can&#8217;t be everywhere at once. They have their priorities, and I am trying to look for mine. That&#8217;s alright.</em></p><p>She sighed and tried to smile.</p><p>On the table she saw the book that had arrived just yesterday.</p><p>Beside her was lying an open notebook and her laptop on which, a lecture had been paused halfway.</p><p><em>Why can&#8217;t I study like others? Why is it so time taking and boring? I can never go anywhere in life like this.</em></p><p><em>Aargh!</em></p><p>She picked up her phone when she remembered a text from her friend a day ago.</p><p><em>Oh no! I forgot to text Srishty too. What will she think!</em></p><p><em>Damn. I&#8217;m such a big loser.</em></p><p><em>She must be so angry at me.</em></p><p><em>I am such a big idiot.</em></p><p>She immediately texted her friend and turned off the internet to avoid facing her friend in case she responded back soon.</p><p><em>Texting is also so complicated. Damn!</em></p><p>Her heart was slightly racing. She looked at her notebook and closed it angrily.</p><p><em>I am not studious. I should just accept it.</em></p><p><em>How do people even do it?</em></p><p><em>Why is it so difficult for me?</em></p><p><em>[Loser. Loser. Loser.]</em></p><p>She got up from her bed and picked up the book on the table and removed the plastic cover of it.</p><p><em>I just hope I get the concept through this book. It&#8217;s not even relevant to the syllabus, but I just hope it helps a bit. I don&#8217;t even have much time.</em></p><p><em>That&#8217;s exactly why you&#8217;re an idiot.</em></p><p><em>But it&#8217;s okay to try and understand things.</em></p><p><em>I&#8217;m probably not gonna make it anyway, it&#8217;s better I try the unconventional way that I like. At least I would know some concepts. Studying something is better than not studying at all.</em></p><p><em>[Losers say stuff like that.]</em></p><p><em>And I sound exactly like that. But who cares? I&#8217;m not trying to win. I don&#8217;t know how I&#8217;ll earn a living in future, but for now, I know that I need this. I can&#8217;t tolerate books being my enemy anymore.</em></p><p>She sat down on the chair and started reading.</p><p>The title of the book was &#8216;How to Teach Quantum Physics to Your Dog.&#8217;</p><div class="pullquote"><p><em>The stupid fish didn&#8217;t try to move forward like others. Life wasn&#8217;t important to it; it seemed. It was trying to understand what it was, what it was made of, what the water around it was supposed to mean. </em></p><p><em>It finally understood what it wanted&#8212;acceptance and peace in knowing. It was still a stupid fish, for it still couldn&#8217;t understand the water like others, but it finally was learning to recognize light, instead of finding a place to drown.</em></p><p><em>The fish lived; it floated with the waves, just like Leher.</em></p><div><hr></div><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1496044601873-3f373ec781b5?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNnx8ZmlzaCUyMGluJTIwb2NlYW58ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3ODg0NjQ2fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1496044601873-3f373ec781b5?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNnx8ZmlzaCUyMGluJTIwb2NlYW58ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3ODg0NjQ2fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1496044601873-3f373ec781b5?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNnx8ZmlzaCUyMGluJTIwb2NlYW58ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3ODg0NjQ2fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1496044601873-3f373ec781b5?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNnx8ZmlzaCUyMGluJTIwb2NlYW58ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3ODg0NjQ2fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1496044601873-3f373ec781b5?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNnx8ZmlzaCUyMGluJTIwb2NlYW58ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3ODg0NjQ2fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1496044601873-3f373ec781b5?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNnx8ZmlzaCUyMGluJTIwb2NlYW58ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3ODg0NjQ2fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="1080" height="718" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1496044601873-3f373ec781b5?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNnx8ZmlzaCUyMGluJTIwb2NlYW58ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3ODg0NjQ2fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:718,&quot;width&quot;:1080,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;grayscale photo of whale&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;grayscale photo of whale&quot;,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="grayscale photo of whale" title="grayscale photo of whale" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1496044601873-3f373ec781b5?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNnx8ZmlzaCUyMGluJTIwb2NlYW58ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3ODg0NjQ2fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1496044601873-3f373ec781b5?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNnx8ZmlzaCUyMGluJTIwb2NlYW58ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3ODg0NjQ2fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1496044601873-3f373ec781b5?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNnx8ZmlzaCUyMGluJTIwb2NlYW58ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3ODg0NjQ2fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1496044601873-3f373ec781b5?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNnx8ZmlzaCUyMGluJTIwb2NlYW58ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3ODg0NjQ2fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption"><em>Just Keep Fishing&#8230;</em></figcaption></figure></div></div><blockquote><div><hr></div></blockquote><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe now&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?"><span>Subscribe now</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><em><strong>Thank you so much for reading, for your time, and for your presence. It really means a lot. </strong></em></p><div><hr></div><p><em>If you&#8217;d like to support me in my writing journey, you can consider checking out this page&#8212;</em></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;buy me a coffee&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>buy me a coffee</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p>I would love to know your views on it. Do let me know what you feel reading this one. </p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-stupid-fish-part-2/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-stupid-fish-part-2/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p>Until Next Time, </p><p>I hope you&#8217;re doing great. </p><p>Take great care fellas. </p><p>Seeya super soon in the next one, </p><p>Thank you so much, </p><p>Yours, </p><p><strong>Ameliorating A.</strong></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-stupid-fish-part-2?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-stupid-fish-part-2?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Stupid Fish (Part-1)]]></title><description><![CDATA[A story about a fish learning to exist.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-stupid-fish-part-1</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-stupid-fish-part-1</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Sun, 04 Jan 2026 13:37:28 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="pullquote"><p><strong>Disclaimer</strong>- This is a piece of fiction. Any similarity to real names, people, or events, is purely coincidental. </p></div><blockquote><p><strong>Note-</strong> <em>This is not a very jolly piece ;) . It contains themes of worry and mental exhaustion. Please read gently and take care. </em></p><div><hr></div></blockquote><p><strong>&#8220;If you judge a fish by its ability to climb the tree, it&#8217;ll live its whole life believing that it is stupid.&#8221;</strong></p><p>Lehar noticed this quote in one of the YouTube shorts while scrolling mindlessly to shut the thoughts inside her head.</p><p><em>What if the fish doesn&#8217;t even know how to swim properly?</em></p><p>She paused the video and thought.</p><p><em>Like, suppose it doesn&#8217;t know how to swim in an ocean or how to swim in the water beyond the boundary of its home. What would happen? What if it doesn&#8217;t even know how to swim perfectly inside the home-boundary either?</em></p><p>She scrolled down that video and resumed watching.</p><p><em>These shorts are so boring. I am tired of them.</em></p><p>She threw her phone on the bed and picked up her textbook.</p><p><em>I&#8217;m really addicted to my phone.</em></p><p><em>[Keep looking at it 24/7 okay? That&#8217;s exactly what&#8217;s called Dopamine addiction.] </em></p><p><em>Is it an example of Operant Conditioning or Classical Conditioning? Operant, probably. Because watching phone is under my control, right? It&#8217;s operant if it&#8217;s voluntary.</em></p><p><em>What the hell? Damn, how I am gonna reverse this? I gotta reduce my screentime somehow.</em></p><p>She opened Digital Wellbeing on her phone, and it showed that her screen time was eight hours already.</p><p><em>It isn&#8217;t even evening yet and I was on my phone for 8 hours? My forehead feels heavy. I don&#8217;t like this feeling at all. We can&#8217;t keep avoiding our thoughts.</em></p><p><em>[We can&#8217;t.]</em></p><p><em>But I can&#8217;t study right now. I hate exams, you know. I really hate them. They take all my studying ability.</em></p><p><em>[Stop pretending please. People study so much a day before the exam and here is you who can&#8217;t stop watching her phone because you can&#8217;t study. That&#8217;s really not a good thing. This is exactly why you are an idiot.]</em></p><p>She read two or three lines before losing concentration and picking up the phone again.</p><p>She turned off her phone screen after feeling her head starting to ache and got up to make the evening tea. She blew some warm air on her palms and rubbed her hands together.</p><p><em>Gosh, it&#8217;s gotten so cold today. I don&#8217;t like winters.</em></p><p>She put on a jacket over her sweatshirt and walked out of her room. Her eyes fell on the view outside her balcony. The sky was covered with a smooth layer of white clouds, giving a greyish look to the surroundings. She immediately pulled the curtains, making the inside darker.</p><p>She went downstairs and the corridor felt gloomy to her under the grey light coming from outside. She pulled the curtains on the gallery door, and it got even darker here than the upstairs. She switched on the lights and went inside the room next to the kitchen. </p><p>Her mom was doing something with the thread and needle, and her little brother was watching the phone under the blanket.</p><p>She scolded her brother to put down the phone by saying, &#8220;Watching phone constantly isn&#8217;t a good thing. How many times have I told you that?&#8221;</p><p>He turned his face towards her and said, &#8220;You also use the phone so much. You shouldn&#8217;t use so much phone either.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Oh, I don&#8217;t. And even if I do, I watch important things. I am not like you just scrolling football reels all day,&#8221; she said without thinking.</p><p>&#8220;I know what important thing you watch. Just useless videos on YouTube is what you keep watching all the time. You&#8217;re such a liar,&#8221; he said again.</p><p>&#8220;Mamma, he&#8217;s not putting down his phone. Say something to him,&#8221; she said, turning towards her mom.</p><p>&#8220;Put it down now,&#8221; her mom said to him after which he did put his phone down.</p><p>&#8220;Such an idiot you are. If you&#8217;re watching, then it&#8217;s not a problem. But as soon as I get it, it becomes wrong. How much of a hypocrite are you?&#8221; he said to her frustratingly.</p><p>She didn&#8217;t say anything to him and went to the kitchen to make tea.</p><p><em>He&#8217;s right. But he doesn&#8217;t understand. I am such an idiot really.</em></p><p>She massaged her temples and closed her eyes. Her dry eyes were stinging too.</p><p><em>What the hell is wrong with me? What should I do?</em></p><p>She pulled out her phone from her pocket and started scrolling.</p><p>The thoughts subsided and she put on a video before putting water in the pan for tea. She made the tea as usual&#8212;with extra ginger. The video was playing in the background as the tea kept boiling on the stove. Her eyes were on the tea, and the heaviness of her forehead was being numbed by the constant chatter from the video.</p><p><em>What if that fish doesn&#8217;t even know how to be a fish? What will happen then?</em></p><p><em>What if it just really doesn&#8217;t know how to be inside its own skin either? The fish. It does have fins, it can even float, but what if it can&#8217;t swim because in its mind it is afraid of drowning since so long, that now even swimming also feels way out of its league?</em></p><p><em>[Shouldn&#8217;t it be called stupid then? Even after having everything, if one fails to improve, then isn&#8217;t that stupidity?]</em></p><p>The background noise stopped, and she realized the video was over. The tea was also done. She turned off both the phone and the stove. She strained the tea into two small steel glasses and a small bowl (Katori).</p><p><em>Wouldn&#8217;t that fish have been better off dead? Or okay, maybe, shouldn&#8217;t it have been better if it had drowned earlier? Isn&#8217;t it just a disappointment to its clan then?</em></p><p><em>[I don&#8217;t know, I don&#8217;t know the answer to any of these stupid questions about a stupid fish, but I know one thing that, that fish is privileged and it isn&#8217;t that important to talk about it in an ocean full of millions of different and wonderful fishes.]</em></p><p>She took one glass and the bowl inside. She handed the glass to her mom and put the bowl in front of her brother, without saying anything.</p><p>&#8220;Bring in your glass too, no?&#8221; Her mom said to her.</p><p>She snapped back to reality and nodded saying, &#8220;Yeah.&#8221;</p><p>She looked at the translucent glass window above the curtained door. The outside white light was shining lightly.</p><p><em>The day is almost over already. I didn&#8217;t want to ruin this day.</em></p><p><em>But I did it, of course. This can&#8217;t go on for long. I don&#8217;t wanna live my life like that stupid useless fish.</em></p><p><em>I know I said the same thing yesterday, day before yesterday, and day before that, but still something needs to happen. It&#8217;s such a shame to live like this. Why did I even have to be born, and how are people in this world living for so many years?</em></p><p>She was still staring at the window&#8217;s glass. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she sighed. She went to the kitchen, picked up her glass of tea, and went back to the room.</p><p><em>The world is unfair; the sea even more,</em></p><p><em>Why should I keep swimming then,</em></p><p><em>If it doesn&#8217;t make sense to me anymore?</em></p><p><em>[Just let it be man. You&#8217;re really such a weird person.]</em></p><p>She was again staring into the void while rolling the warm glass between her cold hands. This time her mom noticed and asked her, &#8220;What are you thinking?&#8221;</p><p>She realized that she was with her mom and brother and immediately started sipping the tea.</p><p><em>&#8220;Oh, nothing. Just planning what to do after this. The tea is nice, isn&#8217;t it?&#8221; She said, trying to avoid further talk on the former subject.</em></p><p><em>&#8220;Yeah, it&#8217;s very nice. This brand of tea-leaves is good, right? How beautiful it smells? I&#8217;ll try to buy this one only from next time,&#8221; her mom said.</em></p><p><em>Lehar nodded and replied, &#8220;Yeah. I was about to say the same thing.&#8221;</em></p><p>She pulled out her phone to check the notification. It was from her friend, asking for some notes.</p><p>She looked at it and zoned out again.</p><p><em>Everyone is studying. And here is me.</em></p><p><em>[You&#8217;re an idiot, really.]</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t like this at all.</em></p><p><em>[Yeah, you&#8217;re an idiot.]</em></p><p>Her mom was saying something but she wasn&#8217;t paying attention<em>.</em></p><p>Later, when her mom asked her something she just said, &#8220;You&#8217;re right&#8221; and immediately continued, &#8220;Mamma, my head is aching. I am gonna go take a tablet and a nap.&#8221;</p><p><em>&#8220;Take a break, you know. You are just tired,&#8221; her mom said to her concerningly.</em></p><p><em>[Yeah exactly, I am tired of doing nothing.]</em></p><p>She muttered under her breath.</p><p><em>&#8220;</em>I&#8217;m not tired, Mamma. It&#8217;ll subside in a bit after taking the medicine,&#8221; she said and slurped the already cooled down tea in one go.</p><p>She went upstairs to her room and pulled out her notebook again.</p><p><em>Let&#8217;s just do a little right now. After tomorrow I will have time to do it deeply. For now, let&#8217;s just skim what we have already finished.</em></p><p>She started revising, but soon she closed the book again and let out a sigh.</p><p><em>I can&#8217;t do this. I can&#8217;t.</em></p><p>Her brain was numb again and instinctively she reached out to her phone. Twenty minutes passed with mindless scrolling, which did infact make her forget everything for some time.</p><p>She checked the time and realized that soon it&#8217;ll be time to sleep and a lot was still left to cover. No thoughts whatsoever were coming to her, and she just was feeling like she was in a dream which she wanted to come out of soon.</p><p>She plugged in her earphones and started listening to music.</p><p><em>Nothing is going inside my brain right now. I&#8217;ll frame answers on my own. I just have to skim this somehow.</em></p><p>She started reading and finally was able to finish that chapter in an hour.</p><p><em>[Keep being over smart, okay? Who the hell tries to understand things a day before exams?]</em></p><p><em>Why can&#8217;t I just memorise it for a day? For exam&#8217;s sake, can&#8217;t you stop being a perfectionist?</em></p><p>She remembered how the same thing used to happen in the past few years. She was not able to study a word a week before the exam, because her syllabus never got completed on time and the possibility of giving the exam with an incomplete syllabus was equivalent to failure to her.</p><p>Her studying a new chapter a day before the exam, that too by taking a lecture, without revising any of the topics that she did study before, flashed before her eyes.</p><p>She remembered how even with the topics already covered, she would have new doubts every time while revising and those doubts when left unsolved used to kill her will to study altogether.</p><p>This was also the reason why her syllabus was never completed on time. Each topic would take much longer for her to complete as opposed to the ideal schedule or timeline used by the teachers.</p><p><em>[Excuses! All you make is excuses. This is exactly why you have failed so many times. What&#8217;s wrong with you?]</em></p><p><em>I can&#8217;t skim it. What&#8217;s even the point of passing if I don&#8217;t know it? Even if I somehow memorise it, would I deserve to be on the other side, without knowing anything?</em></p><p><em>[Again, the same thing. Don&#8217;t try to be a perfectionist. You&#8217;re not like those intelligent people who study because they love it and like to delve deeper into the mysteries of the subject. You know that you are making an excuse, right? You can&#8217;t even study for 1 hour straight and you expect to understand why something is the way it is?]</em></p><p>She pulled out the earphones and the silence following it felt like a relief. The songs, along with the voices inside her head, were really not getting along well.</p><p>She squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled.</p><p><em>Why is this red colour still visible inside the eyes even after closing them?</em></p><p><em>[Silly, it&#8217;s because of the same reason skin appears red and glowing when you put your hand in front of the torch. I&#8217;ll have to look it up to know the exact reason.]</em></p><p><em>I&#8217;ll definitely fail tomorrow. What if I score really low? What&#8217;ll the teachers say? That it was all fake when I was asking so many silly doubts? What will they think, especially Mani sir, that I was pretending to be over smart?</em></p><p><em>Ahhh. I don&#8217;t wanna take the exam. I don&#8217;t know why I used to like exams in seventh/eighth grades.</em></p><p><em>I wish I could go back in time and just restart studying everything, understanding everything perfectly this time, in the proper way that it is meant to be, and just not mess up this time. It would have been better if I was dead instead.</em></p><p><em>I really wish for that. I don&#8217;t know why people keep living anyway. I don&#8217;t want to do this. I can&#8217;t do this.</em></p><p>Her chest tightened and the air seemed too heavy to breathe.</p><p><em>F*** it. Let it be. I am not doing this. I am okay being a loser. </em></p><p><em>F*** it. I don&#8217;t even know why I thought I could do better this time. Let it be.</em></p><p>She stood up from her chair and moved to bed. She wrapped herself in the blanket and switched on her phone again.</p><p>She saw her friends chatting among themselves, complaining about exams with memes, and just being together even in panic.</p><p><em>Here is me. Why I don&#8217;t even fit in? I can&#8217;t even talk to them right now.</em></p><p><em>I was right. I am a bad friend. I don&#8217;t know why I thought I could be good friends with someone.</em></p><p><em>[Why would someone like to be friends with someone who is not interested in hanging out? Who doesn&#8217;t care about spending time with them? You know, you&#8217;re such a weirdo. You are just an arrogant, weird person who is a loser wannabe.]</em></p><div><hr></div><p>She switched to YouTube again. After scrolling for another thirty minutes, she heard her mom saying, &#8220;Leher! Dinner&#8217;s ready.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Coming Mamma!&#8221; She said and went downstairs.</p><p>Dinner was Methi ka Paratha with amla ka achar. The aroma of the hot parathas on the tawa had filled the whole room.</p><p>She removed her jacket and sat on the bed. She recalled how many things she had eaten during the day.</p><p><em>Two Gulab jamuns, four guavas, nearly half of the large Namkeen packet, four parathas, extra rice at lunch too, then a large cup of tea in the evening. How much did I eat today? And why? This is not healthy at all.</em></p><p><em>[Start being in control, Leher. You can&#8217;t mess with your health again.]</em></p><p>She took a large sip of the cold water from the water bottle near her and felt her abdomen stretch.</p><p>Her mom served her two parathas and said that she would bring in one more soon.</p><p>The sight of food suddenly made her nauseous.</p><p>&#8220;Mamma, my chest is burning slightly. I won&#8217;t be eating. I&#8217;ll just brush my teeth right now. My stomach isn&#8217;t feeling too good either,&#8221; she said and went to brush her teeth.</p><p>Her mom protested but she refused still.</p><p><em>How weird it feels to sit cross-legged with a bloated stomach! I shouldn&#8217;t have eaten all that.</em></p><p><em>[Do you even realise how many calories you had today? Again a lazy, freaking idiot you are.]</em></p><p>She didn&#8217;t respond this time and didn&#8217;t even realise when she started watching shorts again. After around ten minutes, she came back to her senses.</p><p><em>Oh no. I can&#8217;t keep going like this. Aargh.</em></p><p>She put her cold palm on her forehead and then put her fingers on her stinging-dry eyes.</p><p><em>Why do I always have to mess it up, huh? Why? Why?</em></p><p><em>Am I really just pretentious about not being able to do certain things that I actually can?</em></p><p><em>Why am I pretentious? Attention-seeking behaviour? Romanticising being miserable? Dopamine addiction? Or I am just being lazy? What is it? Why am I like this?</em></p><p>She was staring at the wall in front and saw a spider web in one of its corners.</p><p>She realized that she hadn&#8217;t cleaned her room in a week.</p><p><em>I am tired, Leher. I am tired. I am not depressed or anxious in any way. I am just making things up at this point to make myself miserable. Why?</em></p><p><em>So that I can use it as an excuse after I fail once again?</em></p><p><em>I really hate people who do that. People who make things up, do things to themselves deliberately, are really the worst. Why would anyone do things to hurt themselves?</em></p><p><em>I know already why I am not studying. I am not studying because I don&#8217;t know if I even want to pass this exam or not. I can study. I am just not doing it.</em></p><p><em>[I hate you. I really do. I don&#8217;t like living at all. Life is so weird.]</em></p><p>Her forehead creased and her mind went numb. She felt a tingling sensation throughout her forehead, and she stopped breathing for a second. She kept staring at the wall without blinking.</p><p>She was familiar with these thoughts. She knew these feelings very well. After all it took her around six months to not repel her room, her study table and even her favourite subjects. </p><p>Fiction and videos were the only things that she could focus on and quieten those thoughts. She knew thoughts weren&#8217;t real but knowing and being able to act upon something are two different things.</p><p><em>It&#8217;s okay. It&#8217;s alright. I&#8217;ll clean my room tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. I&#8217;ll try fixing my screen time too. I&#8217;ll study too, at my pace, deeply&#8212;just like how I like it and won&#8217;t do anything for these goddamn exams. </em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s okay. They don&#8217;t even matter. How can they measure someone&#8217;s understanding of the subject if one isn&#8217;t even well versed in it? The hell with it!</em></p><p><em>[But marks do matter!]</em></p><p><em>STOP! Just please stop.</em></p><p>She exhaled again and got up from the bed. She put her ID card, admit card, two blue and two black pens, sharpener, eraser, pencil, scale, and few other items in her transparent pouch and took it downstairs with some other books.</p><div><hr></div><p>&#8220;Mamma, I will be studying here only for a bit. I&#8217;m sleepy already. I won&#8217;t keep the lights on for long,&#8221; she said to her mom who was already on her bed under the blanket and sat down on the other bed.</p><p>She looked at some of the formulas and definitions for fifteen minutes before her eyes started to shut from sitting under the warm blanket.</p><p>She changed into lighter clothes and pushed her little brother gently, who was sleeping on her side of the bed, to make space.</p><p><em>He looks cute in his sleep.</em></p><p>She kissed his cheek and lay down beside him.</p><p>She set the alarm and put the phone on the side table.</p><p>She absolutely hated exams and winters. The two really had the capacity to drive her crazy. The day was finally over and she just waited for the next day&#8217;s afternoon where this nightmare would finally be over.</p><p><em>I gotta fix my diet from tomorrow.</em></p><p><em>The blue light from the inverter bulb was lightly illuminating the room. She was looking at the wall from under the mosquito net. It created a nice ambience. The soft bed felt soothing against her aching back.</em></p><p><em>Why do I slouch so much? Why can&#8217;t I sit or walk straight?</em></p><p><em>[Laziness. You know right, it makes you look weird?]</em></p><p><em>But slouching happens on its own. I don&#8217;t do it deliberately.</em></p><p><em>[It&#8217;s your body. You should be the one taking care of it. That&#8217;s exactly why your back keeps aching. Don&#8217;t exercise either, okay? Just keep sitting 24/7.]</em></p><p><em>Are you an idiot? We have an exam tomorrow. Shut up.</em></p><p>She exhaled and closed her eyes.</p><p>She felt something in her chest. It was as if her heart was really sinking somewhere. Her eyes opened and she was staring at the wall again.</p><p><em>Is this feeling of sinking real?</em></p><p><em>I am probably making it up again.</em></p><p><em>The fish probably felt heavier during winters too due to not much light available. It must have been alive still too.</em></p><p><em>[What a tragedy!]</em></p><p><em>Is it true that I don&#8217;t deserve anything? Not my parents, not my home, not good grades, not friends, not anything good happening to me? Why am I so worthless? Why is every single thing so complex? Why is every relationship so difficult to handle for me at times?</em></p><p><em>I can&#8217;t even be on my own if I tried to, and I keep messing it up with everything and everyone else.</em></p><p><em>Living is hard. Really hard.</em></p><p><em>Dreams are a lie? What should I do? When is everything going to be okay, easy and normal?</em></p><p><em>[When you don&#8217;t try, nothing is gonna change.]</em></p><p><em>But don&#8217;t I try?</em></p><p><em>[Not enough, it seems that.]</em></p><p><em>Does trying mean struggling? And enjoying means failing? Why can&#8217;t there be a balance between the two? Why is everything ruined in the end? Why can&#8217;t I handle life like others?</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t know. I don&#8217;t. Maybe I&#8217;m just weird. I should really grow up. Things can&#8217;t keep going like this.</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t like living at times. There&#8217;s no point. Of course, there are so many beautiful things too. But it&#8217;s all really messed up.</em></p><p><em>I just don&#8217;t want...</em></p><p>The sight of the wall was fading, but she jerked awake again.</p><p><em>What was I saying?</em></p><p><em>[Forget it. I don&#8217;t care. Sleep, Leher. Sleep.]</em></p><p>A final thought for the day. Her eyes drifted back to sleep and finally the voices went quiet for the next six hours.</p><div><hr></div><p><strong>The next day&#8212;</strong></p><p>She came out of the exam hall, and her face was blank. Her friend asked about how it went but she didn&#8217;t feel like saying anything. She smiled faintly as a natural reaction to seeing her friend, and shook her head in no.</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s alright. Let it go. Don&#8217;t overthink about it now,&#8221; her friend said in order to console her. Her other classmates joined them, and they all started talking among themselves discussing the paper. She was there but nothing else was registering.</p><p>Another one of her friends asked about the exam on the way and she just shook her head in a no again. Speaking seemed like a task to her.</p><p>On the way back, she saw the sun&#8212;a white, small, glowing ball struggling to not get shoved inside by the clouds. The cold had made everything gloomy, and the sight of the afternoon sun just getting visible made it a bit bearable. She put on her scarf and gloves before taking out her cycle from the cycle stand.</p><p>She just whispered to the hazy sun, &#8220;I failed again. Thanks for showing up, though.&#8221;</p><p>The whole way back she was contemplating how she was just such a loser and an idiot. And how it was indeed her fault and how she does this to herself, always.</p><p>After reaching home, her whole noon was spent with her phone of course. But by the evening she was a bit relieved.</p><p>The voices were quiet, her mind was numb, the disappointment was slowly getting concealed with comfort of no longer bearing the torture. She made evening tea as usual and finally was even talking and listening to her mom and brother. She talked to her dad on the phone too and her forehead also felt lighter.</p><p>Something happened later in the evening.</p><p><em>There was a storm in the sea.</em></p><p><em> Even after it passed, the rain didn&#8217;t stop. Drowning continued in silence.</em></p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="4104" height="2736" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:2736,&quot;width&quot;:4104,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;fish under body of water&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="fish under body of water" title="fish under body of water" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1491783421027-7e527ccc810a?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxNTh8fGZpc2glMjBpbiUyMG9jZWFuJTIwYWxvbmV8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzY3NTMzMjg4fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@mattalaniz">Matt Alaniz</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p><strong>To be continued&#8230;</strong></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe now&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?"><span>Subscribe now</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p>If you&#8217;d like to support my work, you can consider visiting this page&#8212;</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;buy me a coffee&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>buy me a 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And if you&#8217;d like to share something, I&#8217;m all ears. </p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-stupid-fish-part-1/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-stupid-fish-part-1/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><em><strong>Thank you so much for reading. Your time, patience and presence, really means a lot.</strong></em></p><div><hr></div><p>Until Next Time,</p><p>Take great care &lt;3 </p><p>Seeya soon in the next one. </p><p>Yours, </p><p><strong>Ameliorating A. </strong></p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div><div><hr></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Guchur Puchur]]></title><description><![CDATA[The Sound of Inner Conversations.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/guchur-puchur</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/guchur-puchur</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Mon, 10 Nov 2025 11:01:26 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1738225070599-ddb4d7eb1942?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxiaXJkcyUyMGZseWluZyUyMGluJTIwYSUyMHNoYXBlZCUyMG1vcm5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="pullquote"><p><strong>Note-</strong> This is a work of fiction. It doesn&#8217;t follow a structured narrative and is just a random collection of thoughts, moments, memories, and nostalgia. </p></div><p>&#8220;Why do I even talk too much?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;What&#8217;s up with this chasing people?&#8221;</p><p>The questions emerged as she lay down on the bed at night. It was past midnight, and she, being not a night owl, was feeling drowsy for the past few hours.</p><p>I should have slept earlier. I can&#8217;t mess up my sleep again.</p><p>She thought, but almost instantly and out of nowhere she heard another thought in another voice, &#8220;You&#8217;re still seeking attention! Why, though?&#8221;</p><p>The word &#8216;attention-seeking&#8217; was something she never wanted to identify with but somehow, she had always fought against and still associated with it for quite a few years now. </p><p>The conversation between the two voices started, all while her mind began to drift towards sleep as soon as she hit the bed.</p><p>&#8220;Is it wrong to look forward to talking to people? Is it wrong to get too excited?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s not wrong. But do you really think anyone&#8217;s interested in your stuff when the world is always on the verge of crumbling for everyone?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;But what if I lose them? What if we just stopped talking one day? Like it happened with Shashi. Damn, I can&#8217;t deal with this adulthood. And even I always try to be there for my friends too, but still somewhere I feel I don&#8217;t do enough for them.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you hate it when someone talks to you because of some obligation and not excitement? The same goes for you too.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;I already have stopped talking to my school friends. I am pretty sure they must be feeling like how I am all changed now. But I don&#8217;t get how to, when to and what to talk to them? Everyone&#8217;s busy. Including me. But sometimes I even feel guilty of it, and other times I feel bad seeing that I am troubling others. You know right? That how much I hate troubling people. That&#8217;s the last thing I ever want to do.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;But still somehow you end up doing the same.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, you&#8217;re right.&#8221;</p><div><hr></div><p>She barely recognised the arrival of the other voice as she was almost in the swing of sleep and thought, yet again, that she was dreaming.</p><p>&#8220;Tomorrow I will have to mop the room, write that thing, take two lectures, study, go outside&#8230;&#8221;</p><p>The voice trailed off with the sleep-swing moving constantly in a rhythm.</p><p>She still at least forced herself to finish the sentence. She had read, and observed too, earlier that the mind remembers the things you do right before sleeping and you&#8217;re most likely to do the tasks if you have a sort of mental checklist ready beforehand.</p><p>&#8220;And write journal and also read the book. &#8216;The novel&#8217; and not anything else. And the journal.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Ohh! I repeated it. And&#8230;And&#8230;do that also&#8230;&#8221; she tried to say mentally but by now she was so close to the magical world of sleep.</p><p>&#8220;And sleep early. I don&#8217;t wanna mess it up,&#8221; she managed to finish.</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s already messed.&#8221; Another voice said, again.</p><p>She finally entered the dark but peaceful place and was unaware of everything for the next few hours.</p><div><hr></div><p>It was a holiday the next day. Her senses woke up around six-thirty in the morning. She finally woke up at six forty-nine after getting constantly nudged by the rats trying to break into some of the containers.</p><p><em>These damn rats!</em></p><p>She woke up with a jerk.</p><p>&#8220;Ahh. It&#8217;s today already. I need to clean the room.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll try not to talk too much today. I am not an idiot man.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;You indeed are an idiot. Always complicating and messing things up.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Let it be. We have to enjoy today. Why even worry about it?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Yeah. Leave it. Who cares?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, but still. It&#8217;s not good to forget people. I hate that.&#8221;</p><p><em> Damn. These thoughts started playing right where I left them last night.</em></p><p>&#8220;We still will try to do better. I&#8217;ll call Maria today. And also Aunu too. I&#8217;ll text Shashi. Bro, it&#8217;s alright. She is busy, I know, but I can at least ask how she is doing right?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Yeah. Do ask. Leave it already, NOW. Let&#8217;s go.&#8221;</p><p>The conversation happened inside her mind for a brief moment, before she stepped out of the bed.</p><p><em>The body aches better the second day after the fall, doesn&#8217;t it? I should have taken that painkiller yesterday.</em></p><p>Another thought but she consciously didn&#8217;t pay much attention to it and went upstairs.</p><p>The weather was turning cold day by day. She thought of going to the terrace but decided to first put on a full-sleeved shirt on top of her t-shirt. As she went inside her room, her eyes fell on the laptop on the table and she remembered something.</p><p><em>Oh. I had to finish that draft too.</em></p><p>She put on the shirt, closed the door and sat on the chair. She typed something for around thirty-minutes and left for the terrace afterwards.</p><p>The picture of herself on the terrace on several different occasions surfaced in front of her and she smiled.</p><p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t go there often now.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s slightly a good thing. At least you no longer feel the immediate need of being in sun right after waking up to feel okay.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Yes, you&#8217;re right. But still, isn&#8217;t it unfair to not be grateful enough for it now?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Well, I am grateful for it. And yes, I&#8217;ll try to visit here more often.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Yess. Winters are coming anyway. We&#8217;ll be needing it.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;I wish the sun would always come up in winter too. That foggy weather is so depressing and weird.&#8221;</p><p>Certain other images of winter and her not being in a good shape appeared this time.</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;ll be okay. I am at home now, after all.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;ll be.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;You know, I miss Rakshu. I am so grateful for her. I don&#8217;t want to lose her either.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;For real. If she hadn&#8217;t been there, it would have been even worse.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Yupp, you&#8217;re right.&#8221;</p><div><hr></div><p>The sun was right in front of her. Her lips curled into a smile, and she went to her favourite spot.</p><p>She had her diary and a pen with her. For a moment she tried to absorb the beauty of it. The golden rays putting a natural filter on everything and the bright blue sky soothed her.</p><p>It almost felt like a whole different place. For a moment her head was clear enough to consciously feel and write. She began writing something in her diary.</p><p>The chirping of birds, pooris getting fried in the neighbour&#8217;s house, the milkman calling out to the people on the street, the feel of cool winds on the sun-warmed and uncovered skin of her palms and feet, and the expanse of azure sky in front of her, made her finally feel like it was a day off.</p><p> A train was also pulling up at the station nearby. She looked at it and thought of her dad. She looked up from the notebook for a moment and smiled again.</p><p>Looking at her, the birds sitting on the nearby tower, talked among themselves, &#8220;See, she&#8217;s finally breathing properly. How silly these humans are! They forget to even breathe well in their lives. What an irony! They chase a million things and forget how to exist and live first. If you&#8217;re not living, then man what are they even doing everything for.&#8221;</p><p>Shree couldn&#8217;t decipher what they were saying and just listened&#8212;<em>Kooh&#8230;Kooh! Chin-chin-chwan! Kooh&#8230;Kooh! Caw&#8230;caw&#8230;champh...champh.</em></p><p>She ended up writing a poem and the simple act of writing it and feeling those memories again lightened up her face. She exhaled and without thinking she knew what was coming next. She squared her shoulders and continued soaking in everything.</p><p><em>Thoughts are just stories after all. Why am I even taking them so seriously?</em></p><p>&#8220;So just stop messing it up, no!&#8221; She recognised the voice and the timing of it made her laugh.</p><p>A dog barked loudly as it started chasing one of its friends on the road, and the birds scattered into the sky, chirping even more loudly.</p><p>&#8220;Such dogs these humans are. They don&#8217;t know what they are doing, why they are doing it, but still just keep doing,&#8221; a bird said.</p><p>&#8220;Who cares? Let us fly and live,&#8221; a few of the other ones said together and they flew over Shree in an &#8216;A-shaped&#8217; pattern.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1738225070599-ddb4d7eb1942?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxiaXJkcyUyMGZseWluZyUyMGluJTIwYSUyMHNoYXBlZCUyMG1vcm5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1738225070599-ddb4d7eb1942?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxiaXJkcyUyMGZseWluZyUyMGluJTIwYSUyMHNoYXBlZCUyMG1vcm5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1738225070599-ddb4d7eb1942?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxiaXJkcyUyMGZseWluZyUyMGluJTIwYSUyMHNoYXBlZCUyMG1vcm5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1738225070599-ddb4d7eb1942?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxiaXJkcyUyMGZseWluZyUyMGluJTIwYSUyMHNoYXBlZCUyMG1vcm5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1738225070599-ddb4d7eb1942?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxiaXJkcyUyMGZseWluZyUyMGluJTIwYSUyMHNoYXBlZCUyMG1vcm5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1738225070599-ddb4d7eb1942?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxiaXJkcyUyMGZseWluZyUyMGluJTIwYSUyMHNoYXBlZCUyMG1vcm5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="3840" height="5120" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1738225070599-ddb4d7eb1942?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxiaXJkcyUyMGZseWluZyUyMGluJTIwYSUyMHNoYXBlZCUyMG1vcm5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:5120,&quot;width&quot;:3840,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;A flock of birds flying in the sky&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="A flock of birds flying in the sky" title="A flock of birds flying in the sky" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1738225070599-ddb4d7eb1942?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxiaXJkcyUyMGZseWluZyUyMGluJTIwYSUyMHNoYXBlZCUyMG1vcm5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1738225070599-ddb4d7eb1942?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxiaXJkcyUyMGZseWluZyUyMGluJTIwYSUyMHNoYXBlZCUyMG1vcm5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1738225070599-ddb4d7eb1942?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxiaXJkcyUyMGZseWluZyUyMGluJTIwYSUyMHNoYXBlZCUyMG1vcm5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1738225070599-ddb4d7eb1942?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxiaXJkcyUyMGZseWluZyUyMGluJTIwYSUyMHNoYXBlZCUyMG1vcm5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@gopinath12">Gopinath Mohanta</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>She smiled looking at them and before climbing down the stairs, took one full round around the very place she was standing.</p><p>&#8220;I hope these images are stored well in my brain. These are the ones that should appear more often.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Again. Stop trying to control everything. Let it be. Let&#8217;s go. We have to mop the floor, read the book, take a lecture...&#8221;</p><p>The voices started chatting again. But she tried to ignore them and be in the moment for now. She looked at the poem she wrote and smiled.</p><div><hr></div><h4>The Poem&#8212;</h4><blockquote><p><em>Tum chat ho ya time machine, </em></p><p><em>Kis kis samay ne pahuncha jate ho hume pata hi nhi, </em></p><p><em>Ek pal ke liye chidiyon ki chahchahat sunkar gaon yad aajata hai,  </em></p><p><em>Phir agle hi pal chaaro or sirf ghar aur chat dekh kar, </em></p><p><em>Doosra aur bada sheher yad aata hai.  </em></p><p><em>Station ki aawaz se toh maano ek saath,</em></p><p><em> Bachpan se bade hone ke din jhalak uthte hain,  </em></p><p><em>&#8220;Papa mujhe trains bahut pasand hai,&#8221; kehkar,</em></p><p><em>Train me chips ka packet khana yad aajata hai. </em></p><p><em>Vakt ke gulam banane ki iccha rkhne vala mai,  </em></p><p><em>Anayaas samay vyarth karne par nirash ho jata hun,  </em></p><p><em>Lekin chat par aakar mano ghadi ki sui ruk jati hai,  </em></p><p><em>Aur phir samay vyarth ho, ya jeevan me phir hum late ho,  </em></p><p><em>Iske mayne na rkhna thoda aasan sa ho jata hai.  </em></p><p><em>Gini chuni cheezein hi toh hai yahan,  </em></p><p><em>Jinke kho jane ka dar nhi lagta,  </em></p><p><em>Mai khush iss baat se hun,  </em></p><p><em>Ki mujhe surya, Aasman, aur chidiyo ko,  </em></p><p><em>Keval sirf accha mehsoos karne ke liye ab nhi dekhna padta.  </em></p><p><em>Han man abhi bhi ghabrata hai,  </em></p><p><em>Aakhir time ki race hai.  </em></p><p><em>Ruk jana yahan kisi paap se kam nhi,  </em></p><p><em>Jo ruk jao toh hriday khud hi ko jwala me sek le.  </em></p><p><em>Aaj bhi bahut gile shikwe hain hume khud se,  </em></p><p><em>Hum shikayat nhi aabhar mante hain ab toh,  </em></p><p><em>Ki shikwon ke baad bhi kam se kam hum chalne ki koshish toh kar rhe.  </em></p><p><em>Maaf karna na mujhe har baar ki tarah,  </em></p><p><em>O aasman, o surya, o nazare, hum bahut khushnaseeb hain tumko hamesha sath pakar...&#8217;</em></p></blockquote><div><hr></div><p><strong>English Translation&#8212;</strong></p><blockquote><p><em>Are you a chat (the terrace) or a time machine,</em></p><p><em>How many moments you&#8217;ve taken me through, I&#8217;ll never know.</em></p><p><em>For a moment, the sound of birds reminds me of the village,</em></p><p><em>And in the next, seeing terraces and houses all around,</em></p><p><em>Some other, bigger city comes to mind.</em></p><p><em>The sounds of the station, it feels,</em></p><p><em>Resurface all the glimpses from childhood to adulthood together.</em></p><p><em>I remember saying, &#8220;Papa, I love trains,&#8221; and then eating a pack of chips in the train.</em></p><p><em>Aspiring to be a slave to time,</em></p><p><em>I get disappointed at purposelessly wasting it.</em></p><p><em>But it feels as if even the clock&#8217;s hands stop once I come to the terrace,</em></p><p><em>And then, even if the time gets wasted or I get late in life,</em></p><p><em>Not keeping these records becomes a bit easier.</em></p><p><em>There are only a few countable things in life</em></p><p><em>That I don&#8217;t feel afraid of losing.</em></p><p><em>I am happy for this &#8212;</em></p><p><em>That I no longer have to look at the Sun, the Sky, or the birds</em></p><p><em>Just to feel a little better.</em></p><p><em>Yeah, my heart still gets afraid,</em></p><p><em>After all, it&#8217;s life&#8217;s race.</em></p><p><em>Stopping here is no less than a sin,</em></p><p><em>And if I do, the heart itself burns in the fire of guilt.</em></p><p><em>Even today, I still have many complaints with myself,</em></p><p><em>But now I don&#8217;t complain much &#8212; I feel gratitude instead,</em></p><p><em>That even after all the complaints, I am still trying to move forward.</em></p><p><em>Please forgive me, won&#8217;t you? Just like always.</em></p><p><em>O sky, O sun, O beautiful views,</em></p><p><em>I am very grateful to still have your company. </em></p></blockquote><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1601305070998-91e1a8574e9e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzNHx8c3VucmlzZSUyMHRlcnJhY2V8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMDE1fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1601305070998-91e1a8574e9e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzNHx8c3VucmlzZSUyMHRlcnJhY2V8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMDE1fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1601305070998-91e1a8574e9e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzNHx8c3VucmlzZSUyMHRlcnJhY2V8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMDE1fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="3264" height="4928" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1601305070998-91e1a8574e9e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzNHx8c3VucmlzZSUyMHRlcnJhY2V8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMDE1fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:4928,&quot;width&quot;:3264,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;silhouette of city buildings during sunset&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="silhouette of city buildings during sunset" title="silhouette of city buildings during sunset" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1601305070998-91e1a8574e9e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzNHx8c3VucmlzZSUyMHRlcnJhY2V8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMDE1fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1601305070998-91e1a8574e9e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzNHx8c3VucmlzZSUyMHRlcnJhY2V8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMDE1fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1601305070998-91e1a8574e9e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzNHx8c3VucmlzZSUyMHRlcnJhY2V8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMDE1fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1601305070998-91e1a8574e9e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzNHx8c3VucmlzZSUyMHRlcnJhY2V8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzYyNzcyMDE1fDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@rpianarosa">Ramiro Pianarosa</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe now&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?"><span>Subscribe now</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><em><strong>Thank you so much for reading &lt;3</strong></em></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Ps</strong>- The title&#8212;<em><strong>Guchur-Puchur, </strong></em>is an hindi expression which stands for random and confused voices or a random mess that is tangled and doesn&#8217;t&#8217; makes sense at first, lol. At least, this is what I think of it. I don&#8217;t know the real meaning. I like it for some reason, lol.</p><p> I wrote this poem around a month&#8212;or maybe two&#8212;ago on a random morning. It&#8217;s funny how things keep shifting almost always. Every time I look back to my previous stuff, I feel both a mixture of familiarity and a hint of distance too. Why? I don&#8217;t know but it&#8217;s a bit fun too. </p><p>I was really wondering lately that why I should write things (including the things in diary) and I realised that having a collection of your own writing to look back to feels great; like meeting an old friend or visiting an old place.</p><p><strong>PPs-</strong> Will try to post one other poem by the end of this week and would also try to write Musical Letters or at least something else. I miss writing a lot (some days, lol). </p><div><hr></div><p><strong>I would love to hear if you&#8217;d like to share something about this, or you would like to share your own similar experiences. </strong></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/guchur-puchur/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/guchur-puchur/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>If you&#8217;d like to support my work ;) (monetarily), you can do so here</strong>&#8212;</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Buy Me A Coffee&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>Buy Me A Coffee</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><em><strong>Your presence alone matters a lot. Thank you so much for being here. </strong></em></p><div><hr></div><p>Until Next Time,</p><p>Take Great Care &lt;3</p><p>Seeya soon in the next one,</p><p>Yours,</p><p><strong>Ameliorating A.</strong></p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Almost Okay]]></title><description><![CDATA[When usual days also feel like too much.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/almost-okay</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/almost-okay</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Sun, 26 Oct 2025 03:30:21 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1736433622548-4adbbc1c2cf2?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHx3YXNoaW5nJTIwZGlzaGVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc2MTQ0NTEyN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="pullquote"><p><strong>Note</strong>&#8212;This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real events, people, or places are purely coincidental. It&#8217;s a story of an ordinary day where a few loops make it unordinary. I hope this will be worth your time.</p></div><p>Kira was awake momentarily&#8212;thrice, before actually waking up at six. She remembered the dream she was in and also how she was fully aware of her surroundings for the last three hours, even when she was asleep.</p><p>As usual, she woke up, went to the bathroom, and then sat on the stairs beside the balcony. Her heart was pounding, and her palms were sweating. Her eyes were still sensitive to light, and she squinted at the brightness coming from outside.</p><p>The sun had just come up. She glanced at it momentarily, smiled at it, and instantly unlocked her phone. It was the thing her hyperactive brain prioritized&#8212;the thing it thought could help bury all her worries, impulses, and fears.</p><p>She remembered that she had slept around midnight yesterday. Waking up at six wasn&#8217;t really in her plan, but it wasn&#8217;t under her control.</p><p>She refreshed the already open tab on her phone, yawning. Almost instinctively, she pulled down the screen and clicked on the Wi-fi icon and waited for the page to reload. The Wi-Fi usually took around five seconds to turn on. She was shaking her legs while waiting in anticipation.</p><p>The first thing on the refreshed page was &#8216;a like&#8217; on something from her friend. She scrolled past it immediately and looked for other updates. There was nothing important in it. She scrolled through some YouTube shorts mindlessly, and when they didn&#8217;t seem to help her racing heart and her already heavy head, she put the phone down. She looked at the plant pots outside. </p><p><em>It&#8217;s okay. I know I messed it up, but it&#8217;s okay. Whoever wants to be mad can stay mad. I can&#8217;t stop existing just because I pissed everyone off, right? I am sorry for ruining it. I just wish she wasn&#8217;t mad at me.</em></p><p><em>I should have taken medicine last night. I really couldn&#8217;t sleep well without it. Do I still really need to take meds? What will I even say to the doctor if&#8212;if only&#8212;I visit him?</em></p><p>She heaved a sigh as her eyes remained fixated on the pots.</p><p><em>What&#8217;s the point anyway? It&#8217;s me only who ruins everything&#8212;for myself only, and that too deliberately.</em></p><p><em>But what the hell should I do with this whole &#8216;sleeping&#8217; thing? I can&#8217;t take those meds forever. I really feel like going to a psychiatrist. But for what man? For not being able to control myself and my thoughts?</em></p><p><em>And who will convince mom and dad? I don&#8217;t care. Honestly, I...</em></p><p><em>Let it be. Let&#8217;s not think like that.</em></p><p>Her butt had started to hurt from sitting on the stairs in the same position for twenty minutes&#8212;she really didn&#8217;t even move an inch.</p><p>She finally stood up and came back to her room. The time on her phone showed six thirty-eight already.</p><p>She sat down to study, but again&#8212;as nearly always, the thoughts kept looping.</p><p><em>Something is definitely off. Her tone was different. I wish I could make things go back to as they were. I miss Sarah. I lost her&#8212;her too. What did I do though? Why are we so distant now? Why am I like this? Why can&#8217;t I be like everyone else? I am such a big loser.</em></p><p>Her forehead became creased as she kept shaking her legs and spinning the pen in her right hand.</p><p><em>Bro, stop it. See, this is why you feel the way you feel. Because you do it deliberately yourself. What&#8217;s even the point of thinking about all this stuff? Just pick up the damn notebook and start preparing for the test.</em></p><p>She opened the textbook and turned the page to the topic she needed to cover. The shaking of her legs was a bit more intensified.</p><p><em>I am not even reading books these days.</em></p><p><em>Urghhh! Hell with it. Let&#8217;s focus on studying first. We&#8217;ll deal with it later.</em></p><p>She took a deep breath in, relaxed her forehead, and whispered, &#8220;I am sorry. Let&#8217;s start it now.&#8221;</p><p>She took out her notes notebook and started reading the text from the book. She removed the pen&#8217;s cap and after writing the date, she realised her exam is not too far away now. She looked up from the book and stared at the wall in front of her.</p><p><em>The test is so close. Damn. I am not prepared at all. I should at least do well in college exams, but here also I am stressed unnecessarily and not studying.</em></p><p><em>Why am I even chasing people?</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t want to lose Sarah. I don&#8217;t want to have nobody to talk to.</em></p><p><em>Quin and I also don&#8217;t talk much these days.</em></p><p><em>Whom should I tell all the things that keep circling my mind? And if nobody would be there for me, then what will happen?</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t want to be an attention seeking or a burdensome person by telling my problems.</em></p><p><em>And I try not to say it, but how can anyone stop themselves from opening up to people they look forward to talk to?</em></p><p><em>Damnn! This is messed up bro.</em></p><p>She put the pen down. Her neck moved as if she had gulped something as she kept staring at the pictures of her role models on the wall. She reached for her water bottle.</p><p><em>I am really sorry.</em></p><p><em>And it&#8217;s okay.</em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s really okay.</em></p><p><em>We can do it. We don&#8217;t need anything or anyone.</em></p><p><em>Freaking learn to live without depending on anyone, Kira.</em></p><p><em>E</em>ach voice had a different tone, and they kept saying something she didn&#8217;t want to listen to or acknowledge but couldn&#8217;t help but do so.</p><p>She again tried to read from the textbook. Her legs were continuously in sideways motion, and fidgeting of the pen continued too. The small rubber pad attached to the upper region of the pen for grip, seemed soothing to rub the side of her finger on.</p><p>After a while she got up from her chair and went downstairs to prepare some tea and breakfast.</p><div><hr></div><p>Again, she played some random videos on her phone and placed it on the chair near the basin. She started brushing her teeth while staring somewhere around the tap, but she wasn&#8217;t looking.</p><p><em>Why? You really are an idiot, Kira.</em></p><p>She paused for a second and lifted her eyes up.</p><p><em>I&#8217;m sorry.</em></p><p><em>I said sorry. Let&#8217;s let it go now.</em></p><p><em>Breathe, Kira. Breathe.</em></p><p>She exhaled deeply, rinsed her mouth, and finally after washing her face, her eyes went to the mirror&#8212;above the washbasin and in front of her.</p><p>For a moment, she felt a sense of pity. She relaxed her frowned forehead and just looked in the mirror&#8212;not asking any questions for a moment; just looked.</p><p>The water droplets trickled down her face. Her dry eyes stung as water came into their contact. She dabbed her face dry with a towel, took a deep breath, and looked in the mirror again.</p><p><em>How much she blamed herself, and how tormenting it gets sometimes</em>. She felt it but couldn&#8217;t even voice it in her head.</p><p><em>You&#8217;re beautiful, Kira. Maybe we can do this.</em></p><p><em>No. You&#8217;re just stupid. A damn loser.</em></p><p>The voices spoke and irked her again. She picked up the phone from the stairs to change the video&#8212;which was making no sense to her&#8212;to another nonsensical self-help video.</p><p>She made tea with extra ginger and tea leaves. She inhaled the fragrance of the boiling tea along with air, but it couldn&#8217;t get to her senses today&#8212;she was busy listening to the drama going inside her mind.</p><p>After that she went to the narrow lane that led to the front gate of her house&#8212;barely even a chair fit there, but that was the only space that felt breathable to her.</p><p>She took the first sip, and the warmth of tea and kick of ginger moistened and relaxed her stinging dry throat. She closed YouTube and again opened her profile on the phone.</p><p>One of her friends from school posted a picture of her first book that was published recently. She commented under it, &#8220;Many many congratulations girl! This is incredible. I look forward to reading it. So proud of you,&#8221; with six different smiling, heart and party emojis.</p><p>There was still no trace of smile on her face yet, though. She refreshed the page to look for Sarah&#8217;s message, but there was nothing.</p><p>She took another sip and felt that the tea was already growing cold.</p><p><em>She deserves it. She works so hard. And not to mention that she published it alongside freelancing and her entrance exam prep. How does she do that? And here is me. I claim to love reading but can&#8217;t even do that. My writing sucks. Even a fifteen-year-old writes better than me. And I wanted to be a writer once.</em></p><p>She smirked as she sipped the last few sips of tea.</p><p><em>Well done loser. Well done. Keep comparing. Just keep doing it. You&#8217;re gonna go miles for sure.</em></p><p><em>Keep thinking, too, and then say that you feel weird, anxious, &#8216;not good&#8217;.</em></p><p>Her chest tightened and she felt her stomach knotting too.</p><p><em>I gotta stop it somehow. I can&#8217;t go back in that zone again. Kira, you have to do something.</em></p><p><em>My head already feels heavy. I gotta buy a strip of that medicine today only. I have to fix my sleep anyhow</em>.</p><p>She went back to the kitchen and poured some more tea into her glass. She took a sip and realised it had gotten cold. She poured the tea back into the pot and reheated it as she pulled out a large packet of biscuits. She poured the tea back into her glass and sat down on the stairs this time.</p><p>She put on another video, and this time focused on it&#8212;in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts.</p><p>T<em>his doesn&#8217;t work this way, Kira. You know this isn&#8217;t the right way. Just stop eating. We can&#8217;t gain back the weight again.</em></p><p><em>One more biscuit and I&#8217;ll stop.</em></p><p>She had five biscuits and again said, &#8220;Only one more&#8221;.</p><p>The packet was gone in no time, and now her stomach was not only knotted but bloated too.</p><p><em>See, I told you. This doesn&#8217;t work. Now sulk again over the calories. I hate this.</em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s okay. It&#8217;s okay. I&#8217;ll just skip the dinner today. It&#8217;ll be fine.</em></p><p>She looked at the birds chirping outside. If it was any other day she would have admired them, but today even the birds couldn&#8217;t capture her attention.</p><p>She kept holding the glass in both of her hands. The bottom part of the empty glass was still warm against her cold hands.</p><p><em>It&#8217;s okay. Breathe, Kira. Breathe.</em></p><p>By now, the loop was fully fed about how it was her who was at fault always.</p><p><em>I hate you. You&#8217;re are really stupid. Loser.</em></p><p>She tried relaxing her forehead and exhaled deeply.</p><p><em>These are just thoughts. Let them pass.</em></p><p>She tried to ignore them, but that wasn&#8217;t what was happening today.</p><p><em>My heart is breathing faster. I don&#8217;t want to be anxious. Please, just stop thinking, Kira. Please.</em></p><p>She drank some water and went back to her room upstairs.</p><div><hr></div><p>She sat down on the chair and pulled out her diary. She spun the pen for a few times before putting it down to write. After writing &#8216;Dear Diary&#8217; and staring at it for a few seconds, she dropped the pen on the bed and took out her phone again.</p><p>After another hour of trying to numb herself through useless videos, she moved to the chair again and opened her laptop this time.</p><p>It was ten in the morning, and she still had so many chores and tasks to finish.</p><p>She liked things being in order. She couldn&#8217;t leave her room or kitchen messy for long but today was not any other day.</p><p>When she saw the time on her laptop, she flinched instinctively. Her heart thumped louder for a moment but then she whispered.</p><p><em>Let it be. It doesn&#8217;t matter. I&#8217;ll do it later. Let&#8217;s try writing first.</em></p><p><em>Breathe, Kira.</em></p><p><em>Breathe.</em></p><p>She said that but felt differently&#8212;another mistake and another food for the &#8216;I&#8217;m sorry loop.&#8217;</p><p>She still couldn&#8217;t think of anything but somehow started writing cathartically. It turned out to be sort of a poem.</p><div><hr></div><p><strong>The poem&#8212;</strong></p><blockquote><p><em>It&#8217;d have been probably better without me,</em></p><p><em>It is what I feel sometimes.</em></p><p><em>I know it&#8217;s just a thought,</em></p><p><em>But it feels cozy for a while.</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Messing-up everything&#8217; has returned back again,</em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s been only a few days, though,</em></p><p><em>I wish it goes away quickly,</em></p><p><em>But it doesn&#8217;t feel that way, you know.</em></p><p><em>Why?</em></p><p><em>Because I am again eating a lot these days,</em></p><p><em>&#8216;It&#8217;s nothing,&#8217; I know you&#8217;ll say.</em></p><p><em>But hear me out, there&#8217;s some more.</em></p><p><em>I am not studying,</em></p><p><em>I am just watching phone all day,</em></p><p><em>My mood sucks,</em></p><p><em>And I feel like being a burden or a misfit again.</em></p><p><em>Everything again, has started to feel like a film,</em></p><p><em>Like I am just watching life go on,</em></p><p><em>As I sit in front of that Tv screen.</em></p><p><em>I know it&#8217;ll pass away,</em></p><p><em>If I try harder,</em></p><p><em>But I am not able to do that yet,</em></p><p><em>And it seems to me like a huge problem.</em></p><p><em>It took me so long to lose that weight,</em></p><p><em>What if I gained it back again?</em></p><p><em>It took me enough time to be comfortable around books,</em></p><p><em>But now exams are coming,</em></p><p><em>And I have started to repel them once again.</em></p><p><em>I am not feeling excited in the morning these days,</em></p><p><em>I sit up and just watch phone and eat Seetaphal all day.</em></p><p><em>Yeah, I play the victim card in all this mess and say,</em></p><p><em>&#8220;You&#8217;re stressed and it&#8217;s your fault again.&#8221;</em></p><p><em>I just have to study and not overthink,</em></p><p><em>I know that bro,</em></p><p><em>My mind just keeps on repeating&#8212;</em></p><p><em>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know this, I don&#8217;t know that,</em></p><p><em>I&#8217;ll score poorly, once again,</em></p><p><em>And it&#8217;d be again my fault.&#8221;</em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s not just studies,</em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s other things too,</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t know why all of a sudden,</em></p><p><em>&#8220;I am messing it up&#8221; feeling is intensified,</em></p><p><em>But it ain&#8217;t pleasant or useful,</em></p><p><em>I just got that right.</em></p><p><em>I am gonna study though,</em></p><p><em>I am gonna work things out now,</em></p><p><em>I&#8217;ll keep an eye on my diet,</em></p><p><em>And I&#8217;ll also try to be,</em></p><p><em>The one I was in the mid,</em></p><p><em>Even if it doesn&#8217;t make sense.</em></p><p><em>I gotta stop comparing too,</em></p><p><em>&#8220;I am just fine the way I am&#8221;</em></p><p><em>My mind really needs to know.</em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s messed up,</em></p><p><em>I know dear me,</em></p><p><em>But can we please,</em></p><p><em>For once,</em></p><p><em>Just make things right again,</em></p><p><em>Without letting it be worse,</em></p><p><em>And then wait for it to pass&#8212;</em></p><p><em>Like a cloud, again.</em></p><p><em>I know this is attention seeking,</em></p><p><em>Honestly, I really hate that,</em></p><p><em>Why am I even doing this then,</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Cause I felt like letting it out,</em></p><p><em>And also, probably because I don&#8217;t know.</em></p><div><hr></div></blockquote><p>She kept staring at the screen for a few moments before inhaling air as if she was starving for it.</p><p><em>Come on. Let&#8217;s try. We can do it.</em></p><p>She stood up from the chair.</p><p><em>I don&#8217;t want to do it.</em></p><p>She took a deep breath and exhaled; her lips pouted while doing so.</p><p><em>We have to. There&#8217;s no other choice. Let&#8217;s go.</em></p><p>She went downstairs again and walked up to the kitchen first. She left the phone on the stairs and looked at the dirty dishes and the flour sprinkled on the platform from yesterday&#8217;s cooking.</p><p>She heaved a sigh and took the kitchen cloth.</p><p><em>Let&#8217;s go, Kira.</em></p><p>She cleaned the platform and then moved to the dishes. In between, she did reach out to her phone, but feeling already clouded by her thoughts, she decided to take some real time off from it.</p><p>The thoughts weren&#8217;t too intimidating now&#8212;she could see them as &#8216;thoughts&#8217; and not as a &#8216;threatening reality&#8217;.</p><p>&#8220;Now, this is therapeutic,&#8221; she said after scrubbing all the utensils; when only rinsing was left.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1736433622548-4adbbc1c2cf2?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHx3YXNoaW5nJTIwZGlzaGVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc2MTQ0NTEyN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" 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rag&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="A person is cleaning a sink with a rag" title="A person is cleaning a sink with a rag" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1736433622548-4adbbc1c2cf2?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHx3YXNoaW5nJTIwZGlzaGVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc2MTQ0NTEyN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1736433622548-4adbbc1c2cf2?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHx3YXNoaW5nJTIwZGlzaGVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc2MTQ0NTEyN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1736433622548-4adbbc1c2cf2?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHx3YXNoaW5nJTIwZGlzaGVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc2MTQ0NTEyN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1736433622548-4adbbc1c2cf2?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHx3YXNoaW5nJTIwZGlzaGVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc2MTQ0NTEyN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@ohlmanphotography">Laura Ohlman</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>The feeling of cold water on her hands, the refreshing scent of soap, and the appearance of shiny-fresh dishes after getting washed, made her heartbeat slow down too.</p><p>After putting the dishes in the rack and giving her clean kitchen a good look, she went inside the room with her phone.</p><p>After scrolling for another fifteen-twenty minutes, the blank stare broke and she looked up.</p><p><em>Oh no. We&#8217;re on our phone again.</em></p><p><em>Gosh! I gotta stop using it. I gotta try to make this work now. Let&#8217;s pick up that novel today.</em></p><p><em>Yeah, we have this. Let&#8217;s go.</em></p><div><hr></div><p>She quickly went upstairs again and took out the novel she had left off around fifteen days ago.</p><p>She started reading and was soon engrossed in it. She did reach for her phone in between but then put it away.</p><p>The passage in the book where the protagonist&#8217;s father had a habit of carrying a bag (Jhola&#8212;as it was written in Hindi) every time he went out made her smile widely. Her own father did that too, and it reminded her of him.</p><p>After around forty minutes she closed the book and stretched her arms.</p><p><em>That was such a nice read. Now I do know why this was said to be a magical read. I&#8217;ll finish it soon, I think. I also want to write like this someday.</em></p><p><em>Let&#8217;s study a bit now. The hell with the test. I don&#8217;t care about it. But let&#8217;s at least study just for the sake of it.</em></p><p><em>We love the topic, right? Let&#8217;s try, Kira.</em></p><p><em>Let&#8217;s Try.</em></p><p>She went to her study table and put a timer for exactly thirty minutes.</p><p><em>We&#8217;ll pull this off. Let&#8217;s</em> <em>do it.</em></p><p>She started making notes and forgot about the time.</p><p>When the timer rang later, it didn&#8217;t occur to her that she only had put it.</p><p>She turned it off and continued. After another thirty minutes, when she checked her phone, she realised that one hour of studying was really done.</p><p><em>This wasn&#8217;t bad.</em></p><p><em>But I still am so behind the syllabus. What will I even write?</em></p><p><em>Let it be. Who cares? Didn&#8217;t we just like reading about it? Loving what you study is important. Exams are just useless.</em></p><p><em>What if I really score too bad?</em></p><p><em>If we finish the syllabus well, slowly and mindfully, we will be able to write enough to pass. Nothing else matters.</em></p><p><em>Yeah, it&#8217;s true. Let it be. I liked this session, though.</em></p><p>She opened her phone and played a song. It was &#8216;Tum se hi.&#8217;</p><p><em>Being able to listen to a romantic song is also such a privilege no?</em></p><p><em>We don&#8217;t really like listening to them when the mood is off. I like it now and just wish it stays like this. We have to balance things better, Kira.</em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s all okay. It&#8217;s okay.</em></p><p>She opened her account and found that Sarah had texted. Her lips curved into a big smile. She rushed to open it and was relieved after seeing that it was all normal.</p><p><em>She isn&#8217;t mad at me! See, she&#8217;s sharing her daily stuff. She isn&#8217;t mad at me!</em></p><p>Her ringing phone interrupted her trail of thoughts. She smiled at it and picked up the call. It was her dad&#8217;s.</p><p>She walked to the balcony while still being on the phone. It was afternoon, and everything was covered in the sun&#8217;s yellow warmth. The leaves of the trees in the house in front were swaying with the wind. She smiled seeing them and took a deep rejuvenating breath.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1688762816628-7fc480e4672d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyM3x8dHJlZXMlMjBpbiUyMHRoZSUyMGZyb250eWFyZHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NjE0NDUyMjh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1688762816628-7fc480e4672d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyM3x8dHJlZXMlMjBpbiUyMHRoZSUyMGZyb250eWFyZHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NjE0NDUyMjh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1688762816628-7fc480e4672d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyM3x8dHJlZXMlMjBpbiUyMHRoZSUyMGZyb250eWFyZHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NjE0NDUyMjh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1688762816628-7fc480e4672d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyM3x8dHJlZXMlMjBpbiUyMHRoZSUyMGZyb250eWFyZHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NjE0NDUyMjh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1688762816628-7fc480e4672d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyM3x8dHJlZXMlMjBpbiUyMHRoZSUyMGZyb250eWFyZHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NjE0NDUyMjh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1688762816628-7fc480e4672d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyM3x8dHJlZXMlMjBpbiUyMHRoZSUyMGZyb250eWFyZHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NjE0NDUyMjh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="3264" height="4928" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1688762816628-7fc480e4672d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyM3x8dHJlZXMlMjBpbiUyMHRoZSUyMGZyb250eWFyZHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NjE0NDUyMjh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:4928,&quot;width&quot;:3264,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;a tree in a yard next to a fence&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="a tree in a yard next to a fence" title="a tree in a yard next to a fence" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1688762816628-7fc480e4672d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyM3x8dHJlZXMlMjBpbiUyMHRoZSUyMGZyb250eWFyZHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NjE0NDUyMjh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1688762816628-7fc480e4672d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyM3x8dHJlZXMlMjBpbiUyMHRoZSUyMGZyb250eWFyZHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NjE0NDUyMjh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1688762816628-7fc480e4672d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyM3x8dHJlZXMlMjBpbiUyMHRoZSUyMGZyb250eWFyZHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NjE0NDUyMjh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1688762816628-7fc480e4672d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyM3x8dHJlZXMlMjBpbiUyMHRoZSUyMGZyb250eWFyZHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NjE0NDUyMjh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@shionadas">Shiona Das</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr></div><p><strong>Later in the evening&#8212;</strong></p><p>That&#8217;s the weird thing about it, you know. I found some things written by me two years ago. I did forget that I used to feel all that I fear so much now and seeing them made me realise that maybe these weird days never fully left.</p><p>Days are better lately, but the essence of those impulses is still there and sometimes, not only the essence, but those thoughts and tendencies also return back.</p><p>I always think that I will be better at handling those things after each instance, but that&#8217;s the thing, I feel that every time and I feel the same fear always too. I used to feel better&#8212;it used to feel tolerable&#8212;after sleeping earlier, you know. Now, the pattern is such that in those loops, thoughts don&#8217;t take a break even in sleep.</p><p>I read it, you know. The inherent tendencies are still the same. It&#8217;s as if I am now so used to them that I don&#8217;t feel as if it&#8217;s a big problem until one day&#8212;when everything seems to fall apart.</p><p>I do need to address it in the same way I apologize to others on realising what could have gone wrong, on my part, from the beginning.</p><p>It&#8217;s selfish of me to think that someday I will sit down and talk endlessly about what happened, how it happened, how it still happens, and how can I move forward now, with someone.</p><p>I gotta earn enough to be able to afford to go for therapy without worrying about anything or anyone. Will these patterns go away then? Who will I be without them? It&#8217;s difficult to even imagine. These things have really become a part of me, I feel.</p><p>I need to buy that medicine. It&#8217;s normal, I know, but still, it scares me a bit when my heart starts racing, and I can feel the thoughts playing around in my sleep. I don&#8217;t like to feel my heart beating right after waking up. It&#8217;s uncomfortable.</p><p>It feels like a waste of time and money. And the worst part is that I know that I need to address it properly and not just look for temporary fixes. But I don&#8217;t know how to make that happen. I don&#8217;t have that kind of autonomy yet.</p><p>I know you might be feeling, &#8220;It&#8217;s not that big of a deal. You&#8217;re making it sound too much.&#8221; </p><p>Yes, you&#8217;re right. It&#8217;s not a big deal. I&#8217;m just weird probably. Even with a stomachache, I feel like getting it checked up. Then this one&#8212;the one that&#8217;s keeping me and my lover, Sleep, separate&#8212;is indeed a little of a deal for me.</p><p>She put the pen down, took a deep breath in, and closed the notebook.</p><p><em>Weird, huh? Maybe I exaggerated. But it felt good, finally being able to let it out. Phew!</em></p><p><em>I hope I get a decent sleep today. I&#8217;ll definitely buy that strip tomorrow.</em></p><p>She turned the lights off, put her phone beside the pillow, and finally lay down.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe now&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?"><span>Subscribe now</span></a></p><p><strong>If you&#8217;d like to support my work, you can do so here&#8212;</strong></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;buy me a coffee&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>buy me a coffee</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><em><strong>Thank you so much for reading.</strong></em></p><div><hr></div><p>I would love to know your views, thoughts and feedback on this one. Do let me know. </p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/almost-okay/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/almost-okay/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Ps-</strong> I know this was long and probably a bit repetitive, lacking a narrative type of read. I do agree most of my writings are like this. But lately, I have realised something. Yes, I have to improve my writing a lot, if I ever want to pursue it professionally. And secondly, I have this privilege of writing freely as long as I am not depending on it for anything. I should be grateful for that freedom for now. I hope what I am saying is making sense.</p><div><hr></div><p>Until Next Time, </p><p>Take great care. </p><p>Seeya soon in the next one.</p><p>Yours, </p><p><strong>Ameliorating A</strong></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/almost-okay?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/almost-okay?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div><p></p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[A Conversation Across Time]]></title><description><![CDATA[Part-2: The Culprit and the Main Character Are the Same: Feelings]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-conversation-across-time-52f</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-conversation-across-time-52f</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Sat, 20 Sep 2025 17:31:51 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1621626728473-b6acda2de67d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3MHx8ZmllbGQlMjBvZiUyMGRhbmRlbGlvbnN8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzU4Mzg4OTgyfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote><p><strong>A note before you start&#8212; </strong><em>This is a fictional sci-fi story. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental.</em></p><div><hr></div></blockquote><div class="pullquote"><p><strong>This is the Part-2 of the story&#8212; </strong><em><strong>A Conversation Across Time.</strong></em></p><p><em>You can check out Part-1 here:</em></p></div><div class="digest-post-embed" data-attrs="{&quot;nodeId&quot;:&quot;ed134559-971d-492c-851f-a881b3c2a636&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;A gentle request&#8212; I am really grateful for your presence here. It will mean a lot to me if you could interact with this post, in any way, only after reading it whole. Your time means the most to me. Thank you for your patience.&quot;,&quot;cta&quot;:&quot;Read full story&quot;,&quot;showBylines&quot;:true,&quot;size&quot;:&quot;sm&quot;,&quot;isEditorNode&quot;:true,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;A Conversation Across Time&quot;,&quot;publishedBylines&quot;:[{&quot;id&quot;:322261931,&quot;name&quot;:&quot;Ameliorating A&quot;,&quot;bio&quot;:&quot;'I'm just a little bit, caught in the middle, life's a maze and love is a riddle.'&quot;,&quot;photo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2d176cc3-2036-4d80-8d63-0e8a11909d48_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;is_guest&quot;:false,&quot;bestseller_tier&quot;:null}],&quot;post_date&quot;:&quot;2025-09-09T15:29:33.707Z&quot;,&quot;cover_image&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png&quot;,&quot;cover_image_alt&quot;:null,&quot;canonical_url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-conversation-across-time&quot;,&quot;section_name&quot;:&quot;STORIES&quot;,&quot;video_upload_id&quot;:null,&quot;id&quot;:173182405,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;newsletter&quot;,&quot;reaction_count&quot;:24,&quot;comment_count&quot;:17,&quot;publication_id&quot;:4569659,&quot;publication_name&quot;:&quot;HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;publication_logo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!zZWa!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F409b2cab-5064-4675-9e0f-452d1c2a1a7f_1080x1080.png&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;youtube_url&quot;:null,&quot;show_links&quot;:null,&quot;feed_url&quot;:null}"></div><p>&#8220;No. Don&#8217;t be silly. I am just saying you know. I have already lived my life. Had you gone to space yet? Had you ever visited any of the other future person ever? There&#8217;s still a lot of things for you to see. And what about mom and dad? Won&#8217;t they start to feel bad too?&#8221; she paused and took a deep breath. </p><p>&#8220;I can say it because I have almost seen most of the things. Mom and Dad are deteriorating too. And I don&#8217;t know how will I live without them? It&#8217;s weird here, Kay. You&#8217;ll understand me when you&#8217;ll be me. And just think can I really die for you? As long as you&#8217;ll live, I&#8217;ll too, right? We are the same person. You forgot that?&#8221; older Kay explained, her eyes welling up.</p><p>&#8220;But you&#8217;re the only one who seems to get me. I don&#8217;t want to lose you. And what really happened? Tell me,&#8221; Kay asked again, tears streaming down her face as she was lifting the weights.</p><p>&#8220;You know, when I time travelled to past a few weeks ago, I brought with myself some books,&#8221; older Kay said, closed her eyes, and just pulled a memory in front of her. </p><p>It was a text written in some shabby looking book with very rough font.</p><p>&#8220;What are you doing? Why you stopped talking? You know I can&#8217;t see you with just my mind. Tell me what you&#8217;re thinking,&#8221; Kay asked rather impatiently.</p><p>&#8220;Oh, nothing. It&#8217;s just I had brought some books from the past the last time I time travelled,&#8221; older Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;Wait, isn&#8217;t that illegal? To bring things from the past? And did you read about that jealousy thing from there?&#8221; Kay asked again.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, I read about it in them only. And it is illegal, but only when you&#8217;re taking something that must stay there. I don&#8217;t remember how I got them. But I do remember that when I ran it through the conveyor belt at my apartment, it didn&#8217;t beep, so it&#8217;s okay. It must be something that was already getting destroyed. So...&#8221; Older Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;Oh. Okay then. So, what about it? How&#8217;s it connected to malfunctioning yourself?&#8221; Kay asked.</p><p>&#8220;I read it. And it felt so&#8230;raw. It felt real. I mean it was a story of a person who grapples with his identity and when finally, the love of his life marries him and they have kids, she dies.</p><p>The protagonist gets heartbroken but for the sake of his kids he works hard and somehow make it to the end where his kids are all grown up but still, he misses his partner and when he feels like his kids no longer need his help and are independent, he goes at the same spot where he had met her for the first time and kills himself by taking some injection,&#8221; older Kay told her.</p><p>&#8220;Damn. This is so tragic. Why did you even read it? You should&#8217;ve just deleted your memory after reading. You know sometimes I feel that it&#8217;s good here in our times. I mean the people of past suffered so much because of them. I have once pulled out an old song, like a very old one&#8212;over 100 years old, and you know what it meant?</p><p>I couldn&#8217;t understand it much, but when I asked the system to make it easier to understand in today&#8217;s time it conveyed the following meaning&#8212;</p><blockquote><p><em>Often, I am upset,</em></p><p><em>That I cannot fall in love, but I guess,</em></p><p><em>This avoids the stress of falling out of it.</em></p><p><em>Are you tired of me yet,</em></p><p><em>I am little sick right now, but I swear,</em></p><p><em>Once I am ready, I&#8217;ll fly us out of here&#8230;</em></p></blockquote><p>I mean can you see, how tragic it is? I am glad in today&#8217;s time people don&#8217;t feel too much. I have asked mom and dad once and they told me that in earlier times, people felt so much that sometimes they got so sick because of it.</p><p>I mean how could they feel this much. And I am just wondering, why you&#8217;re feeling all these too. You&#8217;re really behaving like people from the past,&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know why I am feeling this way. But you&#8217;re right, even I feel that being tolerant of feelings is quite a great thing to some extent. I just wish when we developed tolerance for everything, we still could have felt some things, like Love,&#8221; older Kay said and looked below; the land below was covered with dandelions. </p><p>A faint smile blossomed on her lips.</p><div><hr></div><p>&#8220;What exactly is love though?&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know either,&#8221; older Kay said.</p><p>They both grew silent for some time and Kay was lost in her own thoughts of how the old lives were and how much they had evolved now.</p><p>&#8220;You know, they also had written a song named &#8216;Dandelions&#8217; in old times? It&#8217;s such a beautiful song. Nowadays, there&#8217;s just music, and songs are so rare. We don&#8217;t feel much and hence we don&#8217;t even write much. It&#8217;s just the music&#8217;s frequency that align with our brains and it stimulate the areas that we enjoy. But in older times, they used to convey their feelings through music,&#8221; older Kay spoke after a minute. Her gaze stayed on the Dandelions.</p><p>&#8220;Really? Did they really do that?&#8221; Kay asked.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, like they used to confess their feelings through it. It goes like this.</p><blockquote><p>&#8216;Dandelion into the wind you go, won&#8217;t you let my darling know,</p><p>That, I&#8217;m in a field of Dandelions,</p><p>Wishing on everyone that you&#8217;d be mine,</p><p>Mine&#8230;&#8217;</p></blockquote><p>It&#8217;s special, isn&#8217;t it?&#8221; older Kay said, her lips curving into a smile.</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s like how we share our music with friends to stimulate the same areas in their brain too, right? It didn&#8217;t change much thankfully,&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, exactly but I still want to go to old times and live for once with those feelings. I mean I don&#8217;t know what all they felt and how they managed to come out of it. But just for once, I want to know what really made them feel the way they did. Maybe then I will also be able to understand myself,&#8221; older Kay said. Her gaze shifted at the white clouds floating amidst the blue sky.</p><p>&#8220;But they would cause so much pain too. We aren&#8217;t tolerant of any pain. We rarely feel pain here. I can&#8217;t even imagine living in the times where you could die from a house fire or in an accident. I am so glad that here our system doesn&#8217;t let it happen,&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;You&#8217;re right. But I am tired of living here you know. I feel bored. I think I should get that procedure done, but then I don&#8217;t have anything to do here anyway. I wish I could just go back in time and just live there forever,&#8221; older Kay told her.</p><p>&#8220;I wish it too. I mean we can go but since we&#8217;re invisible to them and we can&#8217;t feel anything there, it&#8217;s just pointless&#8230;&#8221; Kay said to her.</p><p>&#8220;I agree. But listen, if I malfunctioned my system and you miss me, because just like me you also feel things, don&#8217;t get upset, okay? You can still meet the past me right? That is the one who was still alive. I just want to get rid of the system now. I kind of understand why people killed themselves in old times,&#8221; older Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;Why are you still talking like that? And please don&#8217;t do anything. I don&#8217;t want to lose you. Why will anyone kill themselves?&#8221; Kay said, and her eyes welled up again in the gym&#8212;she didn&#8217;t understand why.</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s because feelings alone could wreak havoc in your body. When they felt love and happiness, they were so healthy, so bright.</p><p>But on accounts of failures, loss, grief, they felt mountains of feelings that felt so hard to bear. But you know, people tried a lot too. They were very determined to live because they believed that they could make it better and they eventually did too, but again it took so much time, effort and support from others too.</p><p>And the even more shocking thing is that the world was so cruel back then.</p><p>Today, it&#8217;s easier. Our times are really the best. Earlier people used to take extreme measures because of exam pressure. Can you imagine that? It&#8217;s really so tragic.</p><p>I did try to figure out a way to understand my purpose here, but I didn&#8217;t get it. I don&#8217;t get the point of feelings, and I don&#8217;t know how to deal with them. Don&#8217;t worry. I&#8217;ll probably not be able to do it because of the system&#8217;s defense mechanism. I just wanted to, though,&#8221; older Kay explained rather fiercely.</p><div><hr></div><p>&#8220;You know, they were evil too. They were kind, evil, great, worse, and almost a mix of everything. Today is so better lil baby. I am glad that people now don&#8217;t have to go through all those torments these days. Being tolerant is really advantageous too. At least there is peace now,&#8221; older Kay continued.</p><p>&#8220;There are still privileged and less privileged people, right? My friend Katie couldn&#8217;t afford to attend Tech University because she couldn&#8217;t afford to buy the system that taught how to pull out formulas from her memories. It&#8217;s still unfair, right?&#8221; Kay asked her.</p><p>&#8220;Yes, it is. But did she feel bad about it?&#8221; older Kay asked, gently.</p><p>&#8220;No. She accepted it and she now works in a coffee shop and she&#8217;s doing okay. She told me that she would join TU when she collects enough money,&#8221; Kay told her.</p><p>&#8220;Exactly. See, she got an opportunity right? In our times, is there anyone who can&#8217;t get a job just because of any exam or something? No, right?</p><p>In older times, they didn&#8217;t even get fair chances. It was really so unfair.</p><p>Now, the city head even aids them enough to not lack any essential amenity. Back then, even getting two days&#8217; meal was a struggle. People used to get homeless. Now, everyone at least has a home.</p><p>&#8220;Damn. I am glad I am born in present time and not the older ones. I don&#8217;t understand how our ancestors survived,&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;It was tough, but they had hopes, beliefs and most importantly dreams of a better future that led them to work and build the world we&#8217;re living in today,&#8221; older Kay said, and they both kept silent for some time.</p><p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll really malfunction yourself?&#8221; Kay asked again.</p><p>&#8220;See, this is why I asked you to meet me physically. I had wanted to hug you. But you&#8217;re so mischievous. Go. I am not talking to you,&#8221; older Kay said, playfully.</p><p>&#8220;Give me my answer first. I&#8217;ll come to meet you physically next time. I promise,&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;I won&#8217;t silly. I am just thinking about it right now. I&#8217;ll try to find the purpose of my life first, and if I can&#8217;t, then I&#8217;ll malfunction myself. Not now. And the system won&#8217;t let me do it easily, anyway,&#8221; older Kay explained.</p><p>&#8220;I hope you find your purpose soon. I love you,&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>Older Kay&#8217;s eyes welled up and she held the branch beneath her tighter.</p><p>&#8220;I love you too, silly. I love you really so much. I don&#8217;t think we have to understand love to feel it, right?&#8221; older Kay said and wiped the tear that streamed down her cheek.</p><p>&#8220;Would you like to come see me two days later?&#8221; older Kay asked gently, her voice softened even more.</p><p>&#8220;What is gonna happen two days later? Why not tomorrow?&#8221; Kay asked.</p><p>&#8220;Why you keep asking so many questions? It&#8217;s a full moon day two days later and I want to see it together with you,&#8221; older Kay replied.</p><p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you have a boyfriend? Call him. Not me. You&#8217;re really an idiot. I just wish to not turn into you. Haha,&#8221; Kay said in a playful tone.</p><p>&#8220;Oh. I forgot to tell you about Ash. He&#8217;s going on a space trip with his friends. And anyway, he doesn&#8217;t feel much excited unless it&#8217;s something very great. Watching the sky, moon, hearing the birds, sitting here and just holding hands and watching this mesmerizing view, etc isn&#8217;t really his thing.</p><p> I don&#8217;t think I could find someone to love in this era. I would have to get operated first to find a suitable partner to be able to be compatible. But I don&#8217;t want to miss out on these beautiful things. Love has disappeared now. It&#8217;s only compatibility now that binds two people...&#8221; older Kay told her.</p><p>&#8220;Damn. I didn&#8217;t realise I am gonna grow up and feel like all of this,&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll read those books, and you&#8217;ll finally feel understood then. Books are so precious, you know?</p><p>And in one of them I even found an old letter written by someone to a person they loved. Gosh, you won&#8217;t believe but I cried so much that day. They were miles apart and they wrote letters and just hoped that they reached the desired person and waited for their response.</p><p>I wish I could feel something that strong. But we can&#8217;t now, unfortunately&#8212;or fortunately, I don&#8217;t know,&#8221; older Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;How many books did you bring with you?&#8221; Kay asked, not really understanding what older Kay was talking about.</p><p>&#8220;Almost fifteen,&#8221; older Kay told her.</p><p>&#8220;Huh. That&#8217;s a good thing then. I would read them manually without the system&#8217;s help. And I would have at least something that I would like then,&#8221; Kay said.</p><div><hr></div><p>&#8220;Yeah. You&#8217;re right. Hey, it&#8217;s almost time. Let me schedule our next meeting before your brain starts ringing the alarm,&#8221; older Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, and drop me too as you promised,&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;Yes, let me send you through the system only. I have enough points to use the shipping service,&#8221; older Kay said and commanded something to her system.</p><p>&#8220;Why didn&#8217;t you say that earlier? I would have made you do the same thing every time,&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;Haha. It&#8217;s fun to do something out of the routine lil baby. It&#8217;s for your own good,&#8221; older Kay told her.</p><p>&#8220;Shut up. And what&#8217;s with you calling me lil baby constantly, huh? I am not your baby. I am fifteen. I am a grown up,&#8221; Kay said, annoyance clearly visible in her voice.</p><p>&#8220;Haha. I read that in a book and it&#8217;s so sweet, so I use it now,&#8221; older Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;Okay, fifteen seconds left, just put my mind in its place quickly,&#8221; Kay said to her.</p><p>Older Kay typed something on the screen which she had pulled out in front of her and put Kay&#8217;s mind in a box with a note that said, &#8216;I love you so much.&#8217; She deleted the rest of the conversation and pressed send.</p><p>The system beeped and the box flew away.</p><p>Older Kay sat there, watching the view in her front and played the song &#8216;Dandelions&#8217; in her mind. She was almost getting lost in thoughts before she pulled herself out.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1621626728473-b6acda2de67d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3MHx8ZmllbGQlMjBvZiUyMGRhbmRlbGlvbnN8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzU4Mzg4OTgyfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1621626728473-b6acda2de67d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3MHx8ZmllbGQlMjBvZiUyMGRhbmRlbGlvbnN8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzU4Mzg4OTgyfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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daytime&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="green grass field under blue sky and white clouds during daytime" title="green grass field under blue sky and white clouds during daytime" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1621626728473-b6acda2de67d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3MHx8ZmllbGQlMjBvZiUyMGRhbmRlbGlvbnN8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzU4Mzg4OTgyfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1621626728473-b6acda2de67d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3MHx8ZmllbGQlMjBvZiUyMGRhbmRlbGlvbnN8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzU4Mzg4OTgyfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1621626728473-b6acda2de67d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3MHx8ZmllbGQlMjBvZiUyMGRhbmRlbGlvbnN8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzU4Mzg4OTgyfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1621626728473-b6acda2de67d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3MHx8ZmllbGQlMjBvZiUyMGRhbmRlbGlvbnN8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzU4Mzg4OTgyfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 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href="https://unsplash.com/@h_trautma">Heike Trautmann</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>&#8220;Oh gosh. I am saved. Otherwise, everything would have got deleted,&#8221; she whispered and looked at the birds flying above.</p><p><em>I wish I was you, dear sparrow. </em>And she smiled looking at the azure calm sky.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620748741969-c68debdd255e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8c3BhcnJvd3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTgzODkyMTZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620748741969-c68debdd255e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8c3BhcnJvd3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTgzODkyMTZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620748741969-c68debdd255e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8c3BhcnJvd3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTgzODkyMTZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620748741969-c68debdd255e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8c3BhcnJvd3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTgzODkyMTZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620748741969-c68debdd255e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8c3BhcnJvd3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTgzODkyMTZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620748741969-c68debdd255e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8c3BhcnJvd3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTgzODkyMTZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="5184" height="3888" 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srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620748741969-c68debdd255e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8c3BhcnJvd3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTgzODkyMTZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620748741969-c68debdd255e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8c3BhcnJvd3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTgzODkyMTZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620748741969-c68debdd255e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8c3BhcnJvd3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTgzODkyMTZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620748741969-c68debdd255e?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8c3BhcnJvd3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTgzODkyMTZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@nanichkar">Anastasiya Romanova</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe now&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?"><span>Subscribe now</span></a></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-conversation-across-time-52f?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-conversation-across-time-52f?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p>Your thoughts and feedback will really help me so much. And if you have some story of your own to share, I am all ears.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-conversation-across-time-52f/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-conversation-across-time-52f/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>If you&#8217;d like to support my work, do take a minute to visit this site. Every bit helps keep going and sharing more such stories.</strong></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;buy me a coffee&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>buy me a coffee</span></a></p><p><strong>Thank you so much for your time, patience and presence once again. It truly means a lot. </strong></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Ps- </strong>My schedule is bit hectic these days. I don&#8217;t want to miss out on writing or reading here but I will probably need to spend a little less time here. It has gotten quite comforting here that it feels bit bad. Let&#8217;s see how it goes. I miss writing too. I was kind of depending on it, but I am not able to write much these days. Things are going pretty okay though, so I shouldn&#8217;t complain. </p><p>Being busy is bit good after all. Isn&#8217;t it?</p><p>Although, I do have few drafts to post, but again let&#8217;s see, lol. </p><p>Also, if I mess up something, please forgive me for that. Even I don&#8217;t know what I am trying to do. I am just doing it. </p><p>(I know this is weird. Thank you for bearing with me :)) and for everything else too. I&#8217;ll talk more about that in some other posts. I am really grateful to be here.)</p><p>I hope you&#8217;re doing great.  </p><div><hr></div><p>Until Next Time,</p><p>Please take great care.</p><p>Seeya super soon in the one next one. </p><p>Yours, </p><p><strong>Ameliorating A.</strong></p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png" width="1024" height="608" 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https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Ai generated image. </figcaption></figure></div><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div><p></p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[A Conversation Across Time]]></title><description><![CDATA[Part-1: Is it really the future Earth we'll live in?]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-conversation-across-time</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-conversation-across-time</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 09 Sep 2025 15:29:33 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>A gentle request</strong>&#8212; <em>I am really grateful for your presence here. It will mean a lot to me if you could interact with this post, in any way, only after reading it whole. Your time means the most to me. Thank you for your patience.</em></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>A note before you start&#8212; </strong><em>This is a fictional sci-fi story, built around a conversation between two people across time. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental.</em></p><div><hr></div><blockquote><p><em>Two versions of one soul meet across time, questioning what it really means to be human.</em></p><div><hr></div></blockquote><p>It was the year 2122 and humans still existed. They had evolved a lot&#8212;not much in appearance&#8212;but in terms of thinking and feeling.</p><p>They had the tendency to stay neutral almost always. They didn't feel happiness or sadness easily. They had developed a tolerance for it up to a certain level.</p><p>The only pleasure or misery they felt was when something extraordinary happened. It backfired on them initially as people kept chasing highs and lows by doing dangerous things. </p><p>But eventually, they devised systems to keep themselves in check and the society turned into one of the tolerant beings.</p><p>Fortunately, Earth had changed too. Despite the technological developments, the Earth had become more beautiful and richer with natural beauty.</p><p>This had been accomplished so that people could feel happy by seeing nature and beauty of the Earth. Technology played a very important role here. In the year 2050, a technological outbreak damaged the earth severely.</p><p>After this huge disaster, people finally prioritized saving &#8216;the Earth' and the result of which could be seen in 2122.</p><p>A girl named &#8216;Kay&#8217; was time travelling. She loved it as she had not developed a tolerance for it yet. She was in the time machine and was lost in thinking.</p><p>She was talking to herself and was having a hard time deciding which year to travel to.</p><p><em>Argh! Come on, find the answer quickly Kay. Lemme open the time map.</em></p><p>She thought and a virtual screen appeared in front of her eyes.</p><p><em>Okay, should I go in future or past? Umm, lemme check. Oh, wait wait wait. What? How did I forget this? You already had read about it and still missed this, Kay!</em></p><p><em>Stupid. Okay, so you know that Covid outbreak which we did the report on in class? Let's actually go to that time. We are already immune to most of the previous viruses. There&#8217;s no danger anyway. I need not worry about it.</em></p><p><em>Umm, wait a sec, Dad told us something about this time. What was that?</em></p><p>She instructed something to her system&#8212;brain&#8212;and again a virtual screen appeared in front of her.</p><p><em>Okay, here it is, why this folder is placed on the right side? I thought it was on the left side of the brain.</em></p><p><em>Ummm, it says that 'People are mostly troubled, but they have been doing something new and trying to change. Things aren't that great, but they are trying to heal and everything is quite chaotic.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>That&#8217;s nice. It&#8217;d be one hell of an adventure. Let's go! And ask the answer for the questions I have.</em></p><p><em>I don't even know why I am going to ask the already messed up ones instead of looking for the answer from our future friends.</em></p><p><em>I hope it would be adventurous though. But wait, haven't you promised your older self to meet her today? Are you crazy Kay? Why are you forgetting so much?</em></p><p><em>I think I have to ask mom to update your system once.</em></p><div><hr></div><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1635672992730-75d116f94971?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHx0aW1lJTIwbWFjaGluZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTc0MzA2OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1635672992730-75d116f94971?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHx0aW1lJTIwbWFjaGluZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTc0MzA2OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1635672992730-75d116f94971?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHx0aW1lJTIwbWFjaGluZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTc0MzA2OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="6048" height="4024" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1635672992730-75d116f94971?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHx0aW1lJTIwbWFjaGluZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTc0MzA2OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:4024,&quot;width&quot;:6048,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;a large machine in a building with a clock on the front of it&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="a large machine in a building with a clock on the front of it" title="a large machine in a building with a clock on the front of it" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1635672992730-75d116f94971?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHx0aW1lJTIwbWFjaGluZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTc0MzA2OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1635672992730-75d116f94971?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHx0aW1lJTIwbWFjaGluZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTc0MzA2OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1635672992730-75d116f94971?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHx0aW1lJTIwbWFjaGluZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTc0MzA2OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1635672992730-75d116f94971?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHx0aW1lJTIwbWFjaGluZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTc0MzA2OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@tama66">Peter Herrmann</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>She changed the setting in the time machine to take her in the future instead.</p><p>Time machine entering 2142.</p><p>&#8220;Hey, can you listen to me? Please, pay attention, I&#8217;m really sorry. I forgot. Please lemme meet you. Please.</p><p>I would not be late next time. I promise you. Pleaseee let me in,&#8221; Kay said to someone.</p><p>An unknown voice could be heard. </p><p>The voice is deep and has something in it and Kay loves it.</p><p>&#8220;You don&#8217;t forget anything else. You only forget me always. I have been waiting for you for the past minute and that too without doing anything,&#8221; Kay&#8217;s older self said harshly but her tone was soft.</p><p>&#8220;I'm sorry, but wasn't it your idea to meet physically? I didn't ask for that. I just wanted to talk to you. We could have done that through our minds only. But you are such an old school,&#8221; Kay said rolling her eyes.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, I am. Why should it matter to you or anyone else? It shouldn't. Even if it does, do I look like I care? No! Right? See, I haven't got much time to waste on talking to you. I just have 15 minutes.</p><p>Let's sit or do one thing&#8212;just lemme fuse our minds for 15 min so that you can go for your workout and I will talk to you here? What do you think?&#8221; Kay&#8217;s older self asked her.</p><p>&#8220;What? You really think I&#8217;m gonna leave now and then come again in that shitty time machine just to take my mind? Never. You do one thing&#8212;you drop it there. Does that work for you? Or are you lazy yourself?&#8221; Kay said to her.</p><p>&#8220;Fine, I will drop it. I ain&#8217;t got time to argue with you right now. Just sit and give me your little mind. Don't forget to take your brain with you otherwise you'll collapse after a few minutes,&#8221; older Kay replied.</p><p>&#8220;I know this much. Take it. Don't put something troublesome in it. I would have difficulty deleting that later otherwise,&#8221; Kay said impulsively.</p><p>Older Kay was wiser and more caring as she had not yet developed tolerance towards the feeling of love. She preferred to be this way deliberately. She didn't like to be neutral always. She craved feelings sometimes.</p><p>The fusion was in progress. Kay's mind fused into the unknown's system, and she was free to go.</p><p>Kay wouldn't be able to think now. She would do everything according to the predefined rules of her system like working out and eating properly&#8212;the system heavily emphasised on working out in the future.</p><div><hr></div><p>Older Kay was sitting on a branch of a tree, trying to be happy as she gazed at the vast expanse of tree in front of her. Kay went back. It's now older Kay and Kay's mind only.</p><p>&#8220;You know, I have been feeling something lately,&#8221; older Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;What? Why are you like this? How come you have not developed tolerance yet?&#8221; Kay asked&#8212;her mind only.</p><p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t get me started now. It was you who started this. Don&#8217;t you see how you&#8217;re so intolerant to staying neutral and how you always keep doing mischief,&#8221; older Kay took a pause.</p><p>&#8220;Mom and Dad were so tired of teaching you to stop and behave like normal kids. It&#8217;s not my fault. We are inherently like this since forever,&#8221; older Kay said and heaved a sigh.</p><p>&#8220;You&#8217;re right. I do feel things I don&#8217;t even know how to say. It&#8217;s so tiresome and monotonous to just eat, workout, play lectures daily in the mind to review what the teacher had sent in the new capsule, and then work on codes, read, and then force myself to learn music or baking as they need to be practised at least twice to get perfect,&#8221; Kay replied.</p><p>&#8220;Why don&#8217;t you like them? Tell me. I do want to understand why I am the way I am,&#8221; older Kay said and let out a soft chuckle.</p><p>&#8220;The instructions are clear, and the template is also great, but I just don&#8217;t feel like sticking to pre-made things always. It&#8217;s so boring,&#8221; Kay said stopped mid-sentence.</p><p>&#8220;I sometimes feel like I lack a gene or there is some mutation in me because unlike other kids of my age, when they all can code so well and are learning how to jump through skyscrapers at the perfect angle, I feel like sitting and doing something new&#8212;something beyond the instructions,&#8221; she continued after a moment. </p><p>Older Kay didn&#8217;t say anything and just kept looking at the landscape in front of her. </p><p>&#8220;Just today I was planning to go meet people in 2022. How awesome it would have been! They would have freaked out so much. I would have met our ancestors too. But this silly meeting with you spoiled it. But hey, wait a min, tell me did you go meet our ancestor? You might remember it, right?&#8221; Kay said, impulsively.</p><p>&#8220;It still has to be fed in your system that&#8217;s why you don&#8217;t know that the memory of the time travel to past doesn&#8217;t stay in the system. They didn&#8217;t have a code to integrate it too. So, I don&#8217;t remember it either,&#8221; older Kay said, and just looked at the passing clouds.</p><p><em>She&#8217;s so right. I did feel all this when I was a kid. Huh, what should I even say? What she will think once I tell her the truth?</em></p><p>&#8220;Damn. I didn&#8217;t know. I wish they just fed all the data in our brains at once. It&#8217;s irritating to study every day,&#8221; Kay said further.</p><p>&#8220;You have an exam in two months, right? How are you preparing for it?&#8221; older Kay asked.</p><p>&#8220;I am not. I am relying on the data only. I&#8217;ll try to learn important codes on how to retrieve data a week before exams and it should suffice. I wish they made a system where we don&#8217;t have to learn retrieval at all,&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;I know. They will teach you probably in five years or something. I remember they fed it in the system before I started tech school,&#8221; older Kay responded.</p><p>&#8220;You had attended tech school too? Why? I didn&#8217;t want to go into that robotic place. You know that, right? Then why?&#8221; Kay asked. </p><p>Her voice had the tone they both didn&#8217;t know&#8212;betrayal.</p><p>Kay was feeling something during her workout. It&#8217;s as if her body was heating up and all of a sudden, she felt blood gushing through every part of her body more fiercely. </p><p>Her brain couldn&#8217;t think without the mind; she just experienced it.</p><p>&#8220;They made a new rule that everybody must attend it if they want to stay educated. Otherwise, they are considered illiterate. And you must know how we feel about that. So&#8230;&#8221; older Kay clarified.</p><p>&#8220;How&#8217;s it though? Will I develop tolerance for boredom and frustration then and will not feel it at all?&#8221; Kay asked again&#8212;calmly this time.</p><p>&#8220;To an extent, yes. But you&#8217;d still, by default, be able to feel some of the emotions, unlike others who would become perfectly tolerant and neutral unless something extreme comes up,&#8221; older Kay replied.</p><p>&#8220;Have you figured out why we are this way? I mean I like it. But it feels a bit out of place sometimes, especially when mom and dad too say that I shouldn&#8217;t cry or feel,&#8221; Kay said. They both were silent for a moment.</p><p>&#8220;You know, the other day, Jessie won at the coding competition, and I don&#8217;t know what I was feeling but I felt like not talking to him forever now. Why? Nobody else feels this way and neither could I talk to anyone about it,&#8221; Kay continued.</p><p>&#8220;Oh, I remember that incident. You know, I read somewhere that in the past they called it jealousy which you feel when someone else reaches the place you wanted to be. And about the defect&#8230;&#8221; she paused and just kept looking at the sky. </p><p>&#8220;Yes, what about the defect? You were saying something, right?&#8221; Kay asked.</p><p>&#8220;Even I don&#8217;t know yet. I even visited the main hospital to find out the fault in me, but they only said that I was lacking one gene, as you already guessed, and that&#8217;s why we are emotional. They asked me to add an artificial gene, but I didn&#8217;t as I was confused about it, so I didn&#8217;t opt for the procedure,&#8221; older Kay told her.</p><p>&#8220;You probably did the right thing. I mean what&#8217;s the point. It feels special to be able to feel a bit more than others,&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>Older Kay had shifted her gaze to the mountains in front of her. She didn&#8217;t say anything for a while and just looked at the sky again, as she started thinking about something&#8212;deeply.</p><p>&#8220;Hey, what are you doing? Don&#8217;t go deep just yet. We have still ten minutes to talk. I don&#8217;t want you to forget everything about our meeting,&#8221; Kay said loudly so as to make older Kay come out of her thought process.</p><p>&#8220;No, I am not going deep. The sky just feels so calm sometimes. I mean everything here is calm, but still, there&#8217;s something different about it,&#8221; older Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;But still, do not think about anything deeply while we are together. I don&#8217;t want the system to delete all the memories prior to the &#8216;deep-thinking zone&#8217; while it pulls you out,&#8221; Kay said. </p><p>When older Kay still didn&#8217;t say anything, she continued again. </p><p>&#8220;But the sky thing is really so true. I tried talking about it to others, but they only said, &#8216;Why are you obsessing over sky? We can really just go into the space. It&#8217;s no big deal.&#8217; How to tell them that it isn&#8217;t about going there? It&#8217;s about its vastness, the way it&#8217;s empty such that it can hold every feeling and that makes it special,&#8221; Kay said.</p><p>&#8220;Exactly. We can store infinite data in our systems. But sky is like a home of feelings and only those with feelings can experience it. See those birds? I wish I was one of them. I don&#8217;t like to be a human anymore. I think I&#8217;ll soon malfunction my own system soon,&#8221; older Kay said and sighed.</p><p>&#8220;Wait what? You want to die yourself? Is something wrong? Did the doctors tell you that you have some incurable defect? What happened? Why would you think like that?&#8221; Kay said and was surprised.</p><p>&#8220;No, it&#8217;s not that. I just don&#8217;t feel like being here. I mean what&#8217;s the point?&#8221; She said, paused and took a deep breath.</p><p>&#8220;No. This is not fair. I don&#8217;t want you to leave. You&#8217;re the only one who seems to get me. And I can&#8217;t believe that I would think of malfunctioning myself one day. I should also just malfunction myself with you then,&#8221; Kay said. Her eyes welled up in the gym, but she didn&#8217;t understand why!</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png" width="1024" height="608" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:&quot;normal&quot;,&quot;height&quot;:608,&quot;width&quot;:1024,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:null,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uBWx!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F69184bd8-3996-48e5-9cdd-d9b74a6368a7_1024x608.png 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Two future people fusing their minds</figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p><strong>To be continued&#8230;</strong></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe now&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?"><span>Subscribe now</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>I would love to know your views and thoughts on this. Your feedback will mean a lot. Thank you so much for reading &lt;3 </strong></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-conversation-across-time/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-conversation-across-time/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p>If you&#8217;d like to support my work, do take a minute to visit this site. Every bit helps keep going and sharing more such stories. </p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;buy me a coffee&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>buy me a coffee</span></a></p><p>Thank you for being here once again. It truly means a lot.</p><div><hr></div><p>Until Next Time,</p><p>Take great care &lt;3</p><p>Seeya soon. </p><p>Yours, </p><p><strong>Ameliorating A. </strong></p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[When Mukti Became Jhansi ki Rani]]></title><description><![CDATA[Different lives, different memories.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/when-mukti-became-jhansi-ki-rani</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/when-mukti-became-jhansi-ki-rani</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Fri, 15 Aug 2025 18:46:05 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DMTb!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8a61c358-d88e-424b-9a49-31e37181e6f7_4096x2983.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Five year old Mukti was sitting on a stool in front of the dressing table. She was shaking her legs, waiting impatiently for her mother who was busy searching for something in the clothes&#8217; almirah.</p><p>&#8220;Mamma, how much more time? I will get late. Please hurry up a bit,&#8221; Mukti shouted from where she was sitting, looking at her reflection with amusement. She raised her arm and waved to the mirror.</p><p><em>Papa was right, there&#8217;s another Mukti just like me inside the mirror and she copies everything I do. It was shown in Doraemon too.</em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s fun. But it&#8217;s a lie.</em></p><p><em>The other day when I accidentally dropped the mirror, it just broke. There was no one inside the mirror. Grown-ups lie so much.</em></p><p><em>But then what about Doraemon?</em> She tilted her head, put her right index finger on her cheek and smiled when she saw the reflection doing the same thing.</p><p><em>You are paglu (silly), Mukti. Doraemon is from the cartoon world. And we don&#8217;t even have &#8216;Anywhere-doors&#8217; here. Leave it. Why do I care? </em>She spoke, doing a palms-up shrug. She giggled again, seeing her reflection doing the same thing.</p><p>Something clicked in her mind, and she sat up straight. &#8220;Mamma...&#8221; she called loudly and her mom entered the room with quick steps.</p><p>&#8220;Stop shouting. I am here. I couldn&#8217;t find all the dupattas of the same colour. And it&#8217;s your and your papa&#8217;s fault only.</p><p>Why both of you are telling me about the fancy dress in the morning, if the teacher informed both of you two days ago?&#8221; her mom said, getting down on her knees so as to reach her level, and started wrapping the dupattas skillfully around her.</p><p>&#8220;I forgot, no. Papa also forgot. You should have known. The school will start a bit late today, and that&#8217;s what reminded me of the fancy dress competition,&#8221; Mukti said, crossing her arms and smiling proudly.</p><p>Her mom pulled the dupatta towards her and Mukti also got pulled along with it and fell on her mom&#8217;s arms. Both of them broke into laughter.</p><p>Her mom hurriedly wrapped the dupattas over Mukti&#8217;s leggings, and made her wear a yellow coloured, sparkly top.</p><p>&#8220;Ow. I won&#8217;t wear this. This is itchy, Mamma,&#8221; Mukti said, trying to remove the top forcibly.</p><p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you want to look like &#8216;Jhansi ki Rani&#8217; (Queen of Jhansi)? I know you don&#8217;t like it, but please keep it on. It&#8217;s just for few hours. Here, let me sprinkle some powder on your back. It won&#8217;t itch then,&#8221; her mom said, turning Mukti around and sprinkling baby powder on her back.</p><p>&#8220;Okie. But what if I forget my lines? Teacher will scold me then. And everybody will laugh at me,&#8221; Mukti said, her tone seemed rather serious than playful.</p><p>&#8220;You won&#8217;t forget anything. It&#8217;s just three lines anyway. And I know my baby. She&#8217;ll rock it,&#8221; her mom said turning Mukti again, so as to talk to her face to face. She grabbed a comb and started fixing Mukti&#8217;s hair.</p><p>&#8220;But what if I did? I don&#8217;t want to go. I won&#8217;t go,&#8221; she pulled herself away from her mom&#8217;s embrace and hugged her.</p><p>&#8220;Arey,&#8221; her mom said patting Mukti&#8217;s back and gently pulled her away and looked at her tiny, beautiful eyes.</p><p>&#8220;You know why teacher gave you this role? Firstly, because you are just as stubborn as &#8216;Jhansi ki Rani&#8217; (Queen of Jhansi) and you don&#8217;t let go of the things you think are right, easily.</p><p>And secondly, because you probably talk so much in class that she thought you would be perfect for this role. You have both the fierceness and the confidence.</p><p>You just have to go on stage and just speak as you normally speak in class or like you speak without any purpose at home,&#8221; her mom said and started fixing her hair again.</p><p>&#8220;Yes, you&#8217;re right. I am &#8216;Jhansi ki Rani&#8217;. Even Papa fears me. Ha Ha Ha,&#8221; Mukti spoke dramatically. Her mom laughed, and kissed her cheek.</p><p>&#8220;Mukku, we&#8217;re getting late. Come fast, now,&#8221; her dad called Mukti from the front gate.</p><p>Her mom quickly made her wear black shoes over white socks and when Mukti protested over this weird combination, her mom said, &#8216;Your teacher had instructed the same. They are supposed to represent the boots, silly.&#8221;</p><p>As soon as her mom finished tying the shoelace, Mukti ran towards her dad&#8217;s bike.</p><p>&#8220;Wait a minute, Mukku&#8217;s Papa. She is not carrying her back pack and water bottle,&#8221; her mom shouted from inside. She went outside with water bottle in one hand backpack in other and handing it to Mukti&#8217;s dad she kissed Mukti&#8217;s head once again.</p><p>Her dad started the bike and Mukti kept waving at her mom, until they turned around the corner.</p><div><hr></div><p>When she reached at school, other kids were already roaming in the playground. She jumped off her dad&#8217;s bike and ran towards her friends. Her dad called her name to hand her backpack and water bottle but she didn&#8217;t listen to it. He finally had to hand them to the guard at the gate and requested him to hand it to her later.</p><p>A smile broke out on his face on seeing a little kid dressed up as &#8216;Bapu&#8217;, wearing white dhoti and carrying a stick in his hand.</p><p>A little girl was dressed up as Sarojini Naidu&#8212;the nightingale of India. She was wearing a saree. He almost flinched, but started giggling a second later, when he saw that she was about to trip on her saree&#8212;but didn&#8217;t after she placed her hand on the wall.</p><p>Another little boy, wearing white &#8216;Kurta Pajama&#8217; and a white cap was running around the flower bushes to search for a perfect rose to decorate his pocket. Finally, he found one. And the smile on his face that emerged after putting it in his pocket showed that he was really proud of it. </p><p>Another boy, a little taller than the other kids&#8212;probably he was a grade or two senior to them&#8212;was dressed up as Shaheed Bhagat Singh, in a light brown checked-shirt, black trousers and a brown hat resembling the iconic fedora.</p><p>His walk impressed Mukti&#8217;s dad and for a moment when his eyes met that boy&#8217;s, he instinctively saluted him. The boy smiled&#8212;shyly&#8212;and went away.</p><p>Mukti dressed up in dupattas and a yellow sparkly top covered with tiny mirrors&#8212;the one that were reflecting the sunlight falling upon them in all directions&#8212;was playing with a bunch of other kids on a merry-go-round.</p><p>He stood there, watching the children dressed up as little heroes, and his lips curved into a big smile.</p><p>He noticed another little boy, wearing a khaki-coloured, perfectly pressed shirt, matching trousers, brown leather belt, black shoes and a police cap.</p><p>He was holding a big flag and was probably in the group of kids who were supposed to hoist the flag at the end of the event. It reminded him of SP Mukesh Singh and a memory pulled him back to Independence Day&#8212;15th August 1976.</p><div><hr></div><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532375810709-75b1da00537c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHxpbmRlcGVuZGVuY2UlMjBkYXklMjBpbmRpYXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTUyODMzMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532375810709-75b1da00537c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHxpbmRlcGVuZGVuY2UlMjBkYXklMjBpbmRpYXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTUyODMzMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532375810709-75b1da00537c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHxpbmRlcGVuZGVuY2UlMjBkYXklMjBpbmRpYXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTUyODMzMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="4856" height="3216" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532375810709-75b1da00537c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHxpbmRlcGVuZGVuY2UlMjBkYXklMjBpbmRpYXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTUyODMzMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:3216,&quot;width&quot;:4856,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;flag hanging on pole&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="flag hanging on pole" title="flag hanging on pole" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532375810709-75b1da00537c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHxpbmRlcGVuZGVuY2UlMjBkYXklMjBpbmRpYXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTUyODMzMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532375810709-75b1da00537c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHxpbmRlcGVuZGVuY2UlMjBkYXklMjBpbmRpYXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTUyODMzMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532375810709-75b1da00537c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHxpbmRlcGVuZGVuY2UlMjBkYXklMjBpbmRpYXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTUyODMzMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532375810709-75b1da00537c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw1fHxpbmRlcGVuZGVuY2UlMjBkYXklMjBpbmRpYXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTUyODMzMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@naveedahmed">Naveed Ahmed</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>Unlike other days where his mom had to pull him out of the bed in the morning, he woke up by himself that day.</p><p>He was a part of the singing group who were supposed to sing &#8216;Jan Gan Man&#8217; and &#8216;Vande Matram&#8217; in front of the whole school and the chief guest.</p><p>He was tossing and turning the whole night. The excitement and nervousness of singing in front of the chief guest&#8212;SP<strong> </strong>Mukesh Singh&#8212;didn&#8217;t let him sleep well at night.</p><p>In the morning, he quickly got ready and he even broke the record of &#8216;Babu--his dad&#8217;, who was always the first one in the house to take a shower in the morning.</p><p>He reached school thirty minutes earlier, holding the tricolor flag in one hand while riding the bicycle with the other.</p><p>His heart was pounding as he went on to the stage along with his peers. He quickly stole a glance at SP Mukesh Singh sitting in the front row with the headmaster and other teachers.</p><p>He was mesmerized by his aura for once but quickly shifted his focus on his role, as the harmonium started playing and the group started singing, &#8216;Vande Mataram&#8217;.</p><p>After the song ended, their Hindi teacher came on the stage and urged everyone to stand up for the &#8216;National Anthem&#8217;.</p><p>Everybody stood up and maintained the &#8216;attention&#8217; position.</p><p>This time the drum was also being played and the group sang beautifully on its beat.</p><p>The song ended with a loud roar of &#8216;Bharat Mata ki Jai&#8217; from the crowd three times and finally on &#8216;Jai Hind&#8217;, everybody tapped their right foot on the ground, with their palms on their forehead&#8212;doing the salute.</p><p>By this time, the nervousness had escaped his heart and his chest was filled with warmth and happiness for a reason he didn&#8217;t fully understand at that age. He was just an eight year old after all.</p><p>After a few minutes, it was the turn of the chief guest&#8217;s speech.</p><p>He was sitting with his classmates on a mat spread on the ground, as there were not enough benches to accommodate everyone.</p><p>He was trying to listen to the speech intently, but he couldn&#8217;t hear it clearly because he was sitting in the back row.</p><p>At one point he stood up and went closer to the front and stood behind a tree so as to not get noticed by anyone.</p><p>He peeked from behind it and even after the speech ended, the words of SP Mukesh Singh echoed in his head&#8212; &#8220;Service to the nation doesn&#8217;t only mean serving in the forces. You all are little heroes and future of our nation. You must always remember to protect the nation by sticking to the truth, even when it&#8217;s difficult.</p><p>A person who is true to himself, and doesn&#8217;t bend on being pressured to do something wrong&#8212;the kind of wrong that would seem appealing&#8212;is the true lover of the nation. I hope you all will always remember that and would always stick to the truth in whatever you do.&#8221;</p><div><hr></div><p>&#8220;Mr. Maurya,&#8221; a voice pulled him out of the scene in his mind. &#8220;Are you just going to stand here the whole day? These kids are really looking so cute today.</p><p>Even I feel like dressing up in olive-green military uniform and the service cap. I&#8217;ll borrow the round glasses from someone and then I&#8217;ll look exactly like Netaji. Then I&#8217;ll proudly say, &#8220;You give me blood and I&#8217;ll give you freedom.&#8221; Everybody would stand up in support then. Haha. Just imagining it is making me so happy,&#8221; the security guard said to Mukta&#8217;s dad.</p><p>&#8220;You&#8217;re absolutely right, Bose Babu. Seeing all this reminds me of my childhood days too. I should get going, though. Otherwise, my boss would ask me fifty question about where I was. Take care of Mukta, please.</p><p>She&#8217;s really getting so naughty day by day. They will share the videos with us later, right? I do want to see these kids on the stage,&#8221; he said to the guard and the smile on his face widened too.</p><p>&#8220;Yes-yes sir, I&#8217;ll take care. And yeah, they will share the video of the program with all the parents. Don&#8217;t worry about anything. Have a nice day,&#8221; the guard replied.</p><p>&#8220;Have a nice day too, Bose Babu,&#8221; Mukta&#8217;s dad nodded before putting on the helmet and starting the engine of his motorcycle.</p><div><hr></div><h4><strong>Later in the evening&#8212;</strong></h4><p>Mukti and her mom were sitting on the couch in front of the television. Her dad was doing something with the phone and the TV&#8217;s remote. After a minute, he also came to join them and the video of the school&#8217;s function started playing.</p><p>It was around an hour and forty-five minutes long, but in fifteen minutes only Mukti was bored and she stood up from the couch and went on to play with her toys.</p><p>&#8220;You know, seeing all these kids, dressed up as different heroes, reminds me of something,&#8221; he put his arm over her shoulder and asked her to tell him about it.</p><p>&#8220;I clearly remember that day. I was around Mukku&#8217;s age only. Dad&#8217;s unit was in Jammu Kashmir then and they were posted to Srinagar for a few days because a terrorist attack had happened there.</p><p>We were not able to communicate with him at all. We had those Nokia phones, but everyone was instructed to keep their phones off always for security purposes. But they were allowed to call us once a day at a specific time,&#8221; she said and took a pause.</p><p>&#8220;Really? This is true though, the lives of an army personnel is never easy. I can&#8217;t even anticipate the fear of the families whose loved ones are on the borders,&#8221; he said, looking at her.</p><p>&#8220;Exactly. It&#8217;s really scary. You know what happened one day? He usually called around two p.m. But something happened and he didn&#8217;t call that day.</p><p>Mom told me that he had said that he probably won&#8217;t be able to call for the next two days, but if everything stays alright, and if it would be allowed, he would inform us in between.</p><p>I still couldn&#8217;t believe it and I was waiting for his call very anxiously. I can&#8217;t tell you how scared I was that day.</p><p>I clearly remember how I couldn&#8217;t sleep due to the fear. Those scenes from the movies where soldiers get hurt by the enemy firings kept flashing in front of my eyes and I made mom hold me for almost hours,&#8221; she said, and watched Mukti who was playing on the floor.</p><p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know how I fell asleep in the evening and my eyes opened only when the phone rang. It was dark outside and dad had called to inform us that they were safe.</p><p>Mom had put the phone on speaker and he only said, &#8216;I&#8217;m alright. You all don&#8217;t worry about anything. Take care. I&#8217;ll call tomorrow. Pranam,&#8217; and hung up the call.</p><p>But these few sentences brought so much relief to me,&#8221; she continued as he pulled her closer to him.</p><p>&#8220;Thank god,&#8221; he said, softly.</p><p>&#8220;I went to mom and hugged her legs. She wasn&#8217;t showing it, but she was very concerned too&#8212;her eyes were red and filled with tears.</p><p>But thankfully, everything settled down shortly and his unit returned back to the safer zone in a few days,&#8221; she said and heaved a sigh.</p><p>&#8220;We don&#8217;t realise it enough, but it&#8217;s only because of them&#8212;our soldiers&#8212;that we are able to sit peacefully in our homes.</p><p>Even today when I listen to &#8216;Ae mere watan ke logo&#8217; (O people of my nation) my eyes well up. It&#8217;s not just about us sitting comfortably in our homes but also about their families. It&#8217;s not easy to lose a loved one,&#8221; he said, leaning his head against her.</p><p>&#8220;You&#8217;re right. I am missing Papa. It&#8217;s been quite some time since we last met him. Let&#8217;s go this weekend only,&#8221; she said, when Mukti came back from behind and hopped onto her parents&#8217; lap.</p><div><hr></div><p>&#8220;What you guys are talking about? See, my turn is about to come. Just focus on the screen only now. Please. You both talk so much. I&#8217;ll complain to the teacher,&#8221; Mukti said as her parents broke into a laughter.</p><p>In the video, Mukti was entering the stage, putting her fake sword&#8212;made by joining two plastic knives together and covering them with the silver foil&#8212;in her mouth.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DHXx!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83964190-336e-45b1-8f67-bfb37513f2a1_4096x3798.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DHXx!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83964190-336e-45b1-8f67-bfb37513f2a1_4096x3798.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DHXx!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83964190-336e-45b1-8f67-bfb37513f2a1_4096x3798.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DHXx!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83964190-336e-45b1-8f67-bfb37513f2a1_4096x3798.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DHXx!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83964190-336e-45b1-8f67-bfb37513f2a1_4096x3798.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DHXx!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83964190-336e-45b1-8f67-bfb37513f2a1_4096x3798.jpeg" width="1456" height="1350" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/83964190-336e-45b1-8f67-bfb37513f2a1_4096x3798.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:1350,&quot;width&quot;:1456,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:3766910,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/i/171068640?img=https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83964190-336e-45b1-8f67-bfb37513f2a1_4096x3798.jpeg&quot;,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DHXx!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83964190-336e-45b1-8f67-bfb37513f2a1_4096x3798.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DHXx!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83964190-336e-45b1-8f67-bfb37513f2a1_4096x3798.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DHXx!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83964190-336e-45b1-8f67-bfb37513f2a1_4096x3798.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DHXx!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83964190-336e-45b1-8f67-bfb37513f2a1_4096x3798.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">I am the first one from the left. Putting everything in my mouth was a favourite hobby of mine XD. </figcaption></figure></div><p>&#8220;Oh no, Mukku! I told you to not put anything in your mouth, no?&#8221; Her mom said giggling.</p><p>&#8220;I forgot about it, no. You focus on the performance only. Everybody clapped for me later on,&#8221; Mukti said proudly.</p><p>&#8220;Okay-okay, miss,&#8221; her mom said.</p><p>In the video, Mukti roared &#8220;Mai apni Jhansi nhi dungi. Mai apni Jhansi nhi dungi,&#8221; (I will not give up my Jhansi. I will not give up my Jhansi) raising her sword in front of her.</p><p>After that she thumped her right feet on the stage and said, &#8216;Jai Hind,&#8217; raising her silver-foil sword even higher.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DMTb!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8a61c358-d88e-424b-9a49-31e37181e6f7_4096x2983.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DMTb!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8a61c358-d88e-424b-9a49-31e37181e6f7_4096x2983.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DMTb!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8a61c358-d88e-424b-9a49-31e37181e6f7_4096x2983.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DMTb!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8a61c358-d88e-424b-9a49-31e37181e6f7_4096x2983.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DMTb!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8a61c358-d88e-424b-9a49-31e37181e6f7_4096x2983.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DMTb!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8a61c358-d88e-424b-9a49-31e37181e6f7_4096x2983.jpeg" width="4096" height="2983" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/8a61c358-d88e-424b-9a49-31e37181e6f7_4096x2983.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:2983,&quot;width&quot;:4096,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:890880,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/i/171068640?img=https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0129dc82-4d8e-46e6-92c1-7b1260c19202_4096x2983.jpeg&quot;,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DMTb!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8a61c358-d88e-424b-9a49-31e37181e6f7_4096x2983.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DMTb!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8a61c358-d88e-424b-9a49-31e37181e6f7_4096x2983.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DMTb!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8a61c358-d88e-424b-9a49-31e37181e6f7_4096x2983.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!DMTb!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8a61c358-d88e-424b-9a49-31e37181e6f7_4096x2983.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Hehe. Good Old Days.</figcaption></figure></div><p>The audience clapped for her, and she said, &#8216;Thank you everyone,&#8217; and walked down the stage.</p><p>Her parents clapped too and both of them kissed her cheeks.</p><p>&#8220;Woah baby, you were so good. See, I told you that it was nothing to worry about, right? I am so proud of you,&#8221; her mom said and hugged her tightly.</p><p>&#8220;Bose Babu told me that principal mam complimented her too,&#8221; his dad said looking at her mom.</p><p>&#8220;Bose Babu told you?&#8221; she asked in curiosity.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, you know Mr. Vishnu, the security guard of her school, right? He told me how he also wanted to dress up as Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose today. So I gave him the name, Bose Babu,&#8221; he said smiling.</p><p>&#8220;Oh, Vishnu Ji, I know him. Now, I get it. I&#8217;ll address him as Bose Babu only when I meet him the next time. I want to see his reaction,&#8221; she said chuckling.</p><p>Mukti and her dad also started laughing.</p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/when-mukti-became-jhansi-ki-rani?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/when-mukti-became-jhansi-ki-rani?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Ps-</strong> This is actually a completely fictional story, except Mukti being dressed up as Rani Lakshmibai aka Jhansi ki Rani. When I was a kid, I got the opportunity to play the role of the legendary Jhansi Ki Rani and Mukti&#8217;s part is inspired from that incident. It&#8217;s not the exact description of that time; it&#8217;s rather just a glimpse. </p><p>I hope you enjoyed reading it. </p><p><strong>Pss</strong>- I would once again like to extend my deepest gratitude to the bravehearts of our country. Their struggles and sacrifices can&#8217;t be measured, and I am truly indebted to them. I also salute their families, who put a stone on their hearts and let their loved ones go for a greater cause.</p><div><hr></div><p>If you&#8217;d like to support my work, you can do so here&#8212;</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;buy me a coffee&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>buy me a coffee</span></a></p><p>Every bit helps keep going and sharing more such stories. Thank you so much for being here. </p><p>Ps- I don&#8217;t drink coffee XD. I am fond of tea. </p><div><hr></div><p>I would love to hear your views or any feedback on this story. If you have any similar story that you&#8217;d like to share, please do&#8212;I am all ears. </p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/when-mukti-became-jhansi-ki-rani/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/when-mukti-became-jhansi-ki-rani/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p>Thank you so much for reading. I am truly grateful for your presence. </p><p>Until Next Time, </p><p>Take great care.</p><p>Seeya soon in the next one, </p><p>Yours,</p><p>Ameliorating A.</p><p></p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[What Did I Even Say?]]></title><description><![CDATA[When being yourself feels like too much.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/what-did-i-even-say</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/what-did-i-even-say</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Thu, 24 Jul 2025 10:04:24 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620847227885-5e879f5750fe?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8bWlycm9yJTIwYmxhY2slMjBhbmQlMjB3aGl0ZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTMzNTExMjF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="pullquote"><p><em><strong>Disclaimer-</strong> This piece is entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental. </em></p></div><p>&#8220;Ellie, are you there?&#8221; Ron had texted Elisa three hours ago, but Elisa still hadn&#8217;t replied.</p><p>Ron thought to sleep instead but he was having weird dreams in his sleep these days, so he decided to drop the idea.</p><p>He wanted to talk to someone.</p><p>He needed to speak his heart out, but he didn&#8217;t have enough energy to have small talks or random conversations.</p><p>Elisa texted him back: &#8220;Hey! I went outside. Just got back. Tell me. What&#8217;s up&#8221;</p><p>Ron saw the notification turned off his phone and tossed it aside.</p><p>&#8220;Why do I push people away so much, huh?&#8221; Ron said, looking at his reflection in the mirror.</p><p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t want to talk to Ellie. Why is there nothing to talk about with anyone these days? Like nobody has enough time to be friends, do they?</p><p>Everything feels so superficial at times. Is it just me who is weird and who has a problem in fitting in, or is it everyone else?&#8221; He thought, staring at the reflection of the wall beside him in the mirror.</p><p>&#8220;You know what? I don&#8217;t think you make a good friend. You just push people away, Ron. You shouldn&#8217;t be talking to them when you know you can&#8217;t handle it.</p><p>You talk too much at once, leaving people uncomfortable in your first impression and then overthink later.</p><p>You shouldn&#8217;t be talking to anyone, Ron. You shouldn&#8217;t be,&#8221; he thought again, staring in his own eyes.</p><p>Something shifted in him and he turned to his desk.</p><div><hr></div><p>He took out his notebook where he used to blabber randomly on some days and started writing&#8212;</p><p>What&#8217;s wrong with people? Why their behaviour change once they get to know me&#8212;when I have a conversation with them?</p><p>They say that I am so energetic compared to what they thought of me initially. Why shouldn&#8217;t I be? For god&#8217;s sake I feel excited in talking to new decent people.</p><p>Does that make me look like someone pretending to be someone who they are not? Or they just figure out that I am weird just by talking to me?</p><p>And why the hell I care? You know, why am I saying all this? Because it just happens so frequently.</p><p>Take Ellie (Elisa) only. He thought I was a normal person, and he treated me like one. But that was before we had a chat through the texts one day.</p><p>I don&#8217;t know what the hell happened to him since that day.</p><p>He&#8217;s not showing a change deliberately, but I could sense a change in his behaviour.</p><p>This might sound silly, but before we talked, he used to give me a hi-five and greet me too, just like everyone else, in the morning. But now, he sorts of avoid me. Why? What did I do? What changed?</p><p>I even tried to get back to our routine, but he ignored me. Isn&#8217;t that embarrassing? He did smile but didn&#8217;t put out his hand for me, like he did for everyone else.</p><p>Am I sounding crazy to even observe this and feel it? Maybe everyone else thinks the same right?</p><p>And I don&#8217;t remember saying anything wrong. I was real nice to him. I talked to him gently but towards the end I think he realized I was not who he thought I was.</p><p>But why? Did he think me to be super quiet and nerdy unlike the real me who showed his excitement in talking to him?</p><p>Is it that?</p><p>How can someone be just what they look like from outside? Do I have to keep pretending who I am? Can I not be the quiet and nerdy but also super excited and cheerful on certain occasions?</p><p>I think I should have never talked to him. It would have been for the best. At least I wouldn&#8217;t have another person on the list who I didn&#8217;t feel insecure about losing.</p><p>He probably figured out that I was too immature and of no real use to him. I didn&#8217;t need his help like he offered. I just needed his company. And maybe I am not very good company.</p><p>I shouldn&#8217;t have said all that you know.</p><p>What can I even do now? I would just try not to be as excited on seeing him as I usually get. I would try to look like a real grown-up and mature person, rather than a pretentious child.</p><p>The hell is wrong with the world. I wish I didn&#8217;t have to be in this world. But at least I have you, my darling phone, my parents and my dearest books. Oh, I forget, I even have Batty you know? He&#8217;s a real good friend of mine since kindergarten, but even with him, I don&#8217;t know what should I talk about!</p><p>I wish I was who I look like. I wish people didn&#8217;t misunderstand me like they do. And I especially wish they just think a little bit before changing their behaviors towards anyone so abruptly.</p><p>I wish there was more to talk about than just&#8212;&#8221;How are you doing? I am fine&#8221;, and that I actually could enjoy conversations.</p><p>I am done trying to do what people might like. Because no matter how hard I try they are always going to judge me at the end. Do I judge them? A little bit, but it usually turns into respect rather than me ignoring them.</p><p>I won&#8217;t be talking to anyone. I just wish I could stay quiet, but it&#8217;s so hard to do so, when you want to share your feelings and experiences with them too.</p><p>Do I care about anything? No.</p><p>But it does hurt me a little. I feel like I don&#8217;t belong there. Where should I go then?</p><p>Leave it. I think I should just let Ellie know that I am okay and continue reading again.</p><p>I feel like saying to him&#8212;<em>I want you to be my buddy, I don&#8217;t need your help. Can you do that for me?</em></p><p>I know he doesn&#8217;t want to be, and I am okay with it. I don&#8217;t care.</p><p>It&#8217;s not like that I don&#8217;t have friends. I do have lots of acquaintances, but I don&#8217;t know what to talk about with them. And, then I seem rude, and I consider them rude too for not talking to me like a friend.</p><p>See, I told you&#8212;I am not good at friendships. I love to talk. But I don&#8217;t. I don&#8217;t know what I am even saying. I don&#8217;t care.</p><p>And to be honest, maybe I am also same as them. Maybe I do the same too. Who is who&#8212;I don&#8217;t know. But it&#8217;s okay. </p><p>Love you kitten.</p><p>Seeya soon.</p><div><hr></div><p>He closed the notebook, switched on his phone again.</p><p>He texted Ellie: Nothing&#8217;s up. Just sitting. Take care.</p><p>He went to the mirror again and hushed, &#8220;I don&#8217;t like people. Including you. You push people away. You.&#8221;</p><p>But then he smiled and said, &#8220;I will survive on my own. Like I always do. I have Sky to talk to after all. He listens at least. I just wish he could talk to me too. I know for sure; he would have been my best friend.&#8221;</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620847227885-5e879f5750fe?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8bWlycm9yJTIwYmxhY2slMjBhbmQlMjB3aGl0ZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTMzNTExMjF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620847227885-5e879f5750fe?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8bWlycm9yJTIwYmxhY2slMjBhbmQlMjB3aGl0ZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTMzNTExMjF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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mirror&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="grayscale photo of man standing in front of mirror" title="grayscale photo of man standing in front of mirror" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620847227885-5e879f5750fe?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8bWlycm9yJTIwYmxhY2slMjBhbmQlMjB3aGl0ZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTMzNTExMjF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620847227885-5e879f5750fe?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8bWlycm9yJTIwYmxhY2slMjBhbmQlMjB3aGl0ZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTMzNTExMjF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620847227885-5e879f5750fe?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8bWlycm9yJTIwYmxhY2slMjBhbmQlMjB3aGl0ZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTMzNTExMjF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1620847227885-5e879f5750fe?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8bWlycm9yJTIwYmxhY2slMjBhbmQlMjB3aGl0ZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTMzNTExMjF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 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data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/what-did-i-even-say/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/what-did-i-even-say/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[LOVE DOESN'T MATTER...RIGHT? (PART-5) ]]></title><description><![CDATA[Storms come and go, but sky and water always remain.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-5</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-5</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Sun, 13 Jul 2025 18:34:18 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!yCQd!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>Note- </strong><em>This is the Part-5 of the story, &#8216;<strong>Love Doesn&#8217;t Matter&#8230;Right?&#8217; </strong>If you haven&#8217;t read the earlier parts, that&#8217;s completely okay. But I&#8217;ll say that kindly read <a href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-4?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false">Part-4</a> first before reading this one, as this part is continuation of that one. The <a href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-70628e2bdd18?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false">Part-1</a>, <a href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-part-2?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false">Part-2</a> and <a href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-3?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false">Part-3</a> aren&#8217;t much connected but reading them might give you a better understanding of the characters and their journey.</em></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>A gentle request-</strong><em> I would really appreciate you reading the whole post first before interacting with it in any way. It would really mean a lot to me. Thank you so much for your patience. </em></p><p><em>And trust me, it&#8217;s not as long as it seems. Only the disclaimer, post scripts, etc are making it longer ;))</em></p><p>I<em> hope you&#8217;ll be gentle while reading it. It&#8217;s just a fiction. Please don&#8217;t judge it harshly. </em></p><div><hr></div><div class="pullquote"><p><strong>Disclaimer- </strong>The story explores moments of emotional overwhelm, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, guilt, and self-doubt. If you're feeling mentally or emotionally vulnerable right now, please take a moment to decide whether you're in the right space to read this.</p><p><em>If you&#8217;re going through emotional distress, please know that you&#8217;re not alone. There&#8217;s no shame in reaching out&#8212;to doctors, mental health professionals, or even just someone you trust.<br><strong>We all deserve to feel well. We deserve to feel happy.</strong></em></p><p><em>And again, this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.</em></p></div><h4>Continuation of last part- After the call ended. </h4><p><em>Married?</em></p><p><em>When? How?</em></p><p><em>He didn&#8217;t even bother to inform me.</em></p><p><em>But why would he? Was I his friend? Was I anyone to him ever?</em></p><p><em>No. I was just a random person whom he met online, right? I was so stupid. I shouldn&#8217;t have done this.</em></p><p><em>Damn! Why the hell am I feeling bad? Didn&#8217;t I already guess that he had a girlfriend and that he was probably old enough to get married?</em></p><p><em>What was wrong with me? I don&#8217;t know why the hell I liked talking to him. I am so glad that I never crossed any boundaries and always tried to talk just like a friend.</em></p><p><em>But why the hell am I worrying about it this much? It&#8217;s his life, his choices. Why do I care?</em></p><p>She looked upwards at the sky and continued, &#8220;You know, I was a total idiot. How could I have a crush on some random online person?</p><p>Damn it. I was such a fool. He got married, Sky!! He got married. What must his wife be thinking?</p><p>Eww. Why did I even ask him to call? I am not such a bad person. Damn, how could I have a crush on someone older? Damn it. I wanna disappear, Sky.<em>&#8221;</em></p><p>Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she hurried downstairs. On the way, she kept thinking&#8212;<em>How? When did it all happen? Damn!! So, he was busy with his wedding preparations in those six months when he literally ghosted me.</em></p><p><em>This is so embarrassing, Shree. Damn!! But why the hell am I feeling so much? I don&#8217;t need to think so much. His life. His issues. His things. Why do I care? I don&#8217;t care at all. We don&#8217;t care at all, Shree.</em></p><div><hr></div><h4>Trust me, I don&#8217;t want to care but I do&#8212;</h4><p>On reaching her room, she shut the door tightly behind her and just went straight to bed. Her mom was calling her for dinner too, but she refused, saying she wasn&#8217;t hungry.</p><p>Her tears were still not stopping, and her heart was racing.</p><p>&#8220;Shashu. You know what happened? Shyam got married. Can you believe it? I want to disappear, you know,&#8221; she sent the text to Shashi, with lots of laughing emojis. The emojis were her attempt to hide the pain.</p><p>Shashi replied immediately, and comforted Shree for the next hour.</p><p>Shree still couldn&#8217;t think properly and was just drowning deeper and deeper in the ocean of guilt.</p><p><em>You know, I can no longer bear this shame. The hell with it. I am so, so sorry. I am really sorry. This was all my fault. Aargh! </em>She thought while she was lying on the bed.</p><p>The lights were switched off, but Shree could still imagine his wife&#8217;s face and her judgements about her.</p><p><em>I can&#8217;t do this any longer. I can&#8217;t. What she would have thought? That I was such a freaking weirdo who had a crush on her husband? Damn. Even the thought of it makes me sick.</em></p><p><em>I am not this bad. I am not. I may make mistakes. But I never intend to hurt anyone. Damn. I want to go back in time and erase this chapter for once and for all. I can&#8217;t bear this. I can&#8217;t.</em></p><p>She pressed the pillow tightly on her face, trying to suppress the tears and the thoughts.</p><p><em>You know what? I should text him and apologise to him. And I should just completely disappear from his life. That would be the most righteous thing at this moment.</em></p><p>She opened the notes app and started typing: &#8220;I am so sorry. I am very sorry for everything. Thank you for everything you did for me. I am really sorry. I am really grateful for having a friend like you but please forgive me. I really liked talking to you. I am really sorry.&#8221;</p><p>Before typing the next sentence, she paused. Her fingers trembled as she slowly typed further.</p><p>&#8220;You know, I had a crush on you.&#8221;</p><p>She thought of something and then typed again.</p><p>&#8220;Mind you&#8212;had. And I was so shocked to hear that you got married. You didn&#8217;t even tell me once. I didn&#8217;t know. I am really sorry for everything.&#8221; She finished typing and pasted it onto his chat.</p><p><em>Should I even do this? I can ghost him. Just like he did. I don&#8217;t think he would even notice. Maybe I should just delete the account and everything.</em></p><p><em>But wouldn&#8217;t that be bad? Is ghosting someone even right? He was a good friend to me. I think I could at least tell him this after having told him so many other things. Would he mind if I just deleted the account without informing?</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t think so.</em></p><p><em>But still. I am not a person who could ghost someone. It freaking hurts to try to figure out the reason of getting ghosted. At least I could tell him. And does it even matter what he thinks about me now? I should just tell him the truth and leave.</em></p><p><em>Yeah, I should do that.</em></p><p>She kept thinking for another twenty minutes or so before finally pressing the send button with trembling fingers and a loudly thumping heart.</p><p>She instantly cleared the chat from her side and tossed the phone aside.</p><p><em>Tomorrow will be the last day I text him after his reply. I am never talking to anyone ever again.</em></p><p>She closed her eyes, but thoughts kept circling her mind before she finally fell asleep after another thirty minutes or so.</p><p>The next day, again at ten in the morning, he texted back saying, &#8220;I will call you in the evening.&#8221;</p><p>Shree didn&#8217;t reply to that text and was lost in her thoughts the whole day. She was still not able to process her feelings, and she couldn&#8217;t help but think&#8212;<em>How weird am I? How could I even talk to him now? This is so cringe and cheap. I hate myself. I don&#8217;t like this feeling at all.</em></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>One Last Call&#8212;</strong></p><p>In the evening, Shree did receive a call from Shyam.</p><p>She went to the terrace again.</p><p>&#8220;Hey. You had a crush on me? Really?&#8221; he asked.</p><p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t want to talk to you now. It doesn&#8217;t feel right. I am so sorry for everything. I will probably be blocking you. I am sorry but I can&#8217;t handle all this right now. I could have made it clear to myself if you had told me earlier. Anyways.</p><p>Thank you so much for being such a great friend, for listening to my rants and for all the advice you gave me. I really liked talking to you. And I am so sorry for troubling you all the time,&#8221; she said, and waited for him to say something, before disconnecting the call.</p><p>&#8220;Why do you think this much? Everything is alright. It&#8217;s nothing. Chill! Wait, I&#8217;ll try to ask my wife to talk to you. It&#8217;s all cool,&#8221; he responded in the same casual way.</p><p>&#8220;No way. I can&#8217;t. I can never talk to her,&#8221; she said, trying to end the call as soon as possible. But something inside her still wanted to talk more, for she knew this was their last call.</p><p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll see. Okay. Gotta go. Still in the office. Seeya,&#8221; he said and disconnected the call.</p><p><em>I can&#8217;t talk to his wife. Hell no. This is so disgusting. Eww. Aargh! Why did I ever talk to him?</em></p><p>She said, looking upwards at the sky.</p><div><hr></div><h4>How do I stop thinking? &#8212;</h4><p>A few days later-</p><p>Shree still couldn&#8217;t get over the embarrassment of it. She texted him again, apologising sincerely for things she thought she had ruined.</p><p><em>I am never talking to any boy ever again. I hate myself. </em>She repeated to herself as she sent it.</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s okay. It happens. Relax. It&#8217;s not a big deal. My wife knows about you. You&#8217;re still a kid. Things happen buddy. Don&#8217;t worry too much. Take care,&#8221; was the text she received from him.</p><p>She replied: I never meant to intrude or cross a line. I really didn&#8217;t. Please forgive me.</p><p>The next day, she uninstalled that app and her account so that she could not reach out to him any longer.</p><p>It took her more than a few months to move on from him, to stop hating herself over having a crush on someone who already belonged to someone else.</p><p>The only hurdle was that she would often be reminded of him in her everyday life&#8212;sometimes while watching a series, reading a book, going to a new place and the feeling of telling him all about her adventures.</p><p>She did eventually accept that it was completely one sided and that she probably already knew it. She installed that app again after a few months. This time with a different number, so that he couldn&#8217;t know that she joined back. She had deleted his number from her contacts, but it was still etched in her memory.</p><p>On the days when she missed him too much, she would just open his ID and stare at it without sending anything. It was her way of accepting that things had changed.</p><p><strong>Back to the Present Day&#8212;</strong></p><p>She stared at the screen, let out a sigh, and putting down the phone, started writing again.</p><p>Okay, so I am clearly missing him. But what can I even do? I don&#8217;t know.</p><p>You know, I really need meds now. I can&#8217;t even focus on reading.</p><p>I don&#8217;t even know what more to write. I don&#8217;t want to appear for the exam. I want to have a life yaar (hindi term for a friend). This schedule is just grueling. I wake up every morning with my heart already racing. Then I go up to the terrace in order to breathe, which is also difficult to focus on when I constantly feel like I could use this time to take a lecture or something.</p><p>Then there&#8217;s breakfast, classes, lunch, classes, tea&#8212;and suddenly it&#8217;s evening, and even sleep feels dreadful. I can&#8217;t even focus on lectures. They are just too tiring, honestly. I don&#8217;t know what to do.</p><p>I am literally not prepared for the exam. And to make things worse, my stomach feels weird. I googled it. And I think it&#8217;s IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome). I am so done with all this. What will I even do with my life? How will I ever get a job like this?</p><p>And I do know that people have much bigger problems&#8212;the real and serious ones. But I don&#8217;t know what to do about them, because it doesn&#8217;t help knowing that. I try to make it work, but did it work? No.</p><p>What should I do?</p><p>I don&#8217;t know, Diaru. I don&#8217;t.</p><p>She put the pen down when she realised that she was repeating the same things again and again.</p><p>She put on a series on her phone and tried to lose herself in it. It worked a little. But then it was hard to put it down. More than entertainment, it became a sort of escape to her&#8212;escape from the world, her thoughts and the brutal reality.</p><p>She knew this wasn&#8217;t a good thing in the long run and that she needed to do something to fix things before it was too late. But she didn&#8217;t know&#8212;what.</p><div><hr></div><h4>I wish the storm no longer comes back &#8212;</h4><p><strong>A few days later&#8212;</strong></p><p>&#8220;I am so glad I feel like living again, lol. Who knew that even having the &#8216;will to live&#8217; would feel so luxurious?</p><p>I am so tired of being restless. Happiness Trap is a good book you know. I have read only a little, but it worked a bit. I am not as scared as before at least. I don&#8217;t know.&#8221; She said, moving her right hand in the calm water of the river Ganga.</p><p>This was her safe space. A place for confession&#8212;of wrongdoings, guilts, regrets and also a place of forgiveness. Forgiveness didn&#8217;t always come easily to her. She was not much of a good person according to her.</p><p>She was just like everybody else, but on some of the days, she even felt that she was a bit worse than others. She had tried to do things and had failed miserably&#8212;not just in studies but in many other areas of life.</p><p>That riverbank and the river Ganga itself was her confession site. She was there again.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!yCQd!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!yCQd!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!yCQd!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!yCQd!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!yCQd!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!yCQd!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg" width="1280" height="960" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:960,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:63781,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/i/168221946?img=https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg&quot;,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!yCQd!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!yCQd!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!yCQd!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!yCQd!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3a0f243f-1090-4e88-97ee-9b75286db3b6_1280x960.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Author&#8217;s own image.  </figcaption></figure></div><p>It was peaceful. She was carrying her diary in her backpack.</p><p>She sat down on one of the abandoned &#8216;takhats&#8217; lying there and started writing.</p><blockquote><p>I made grave mistakes, you know&#8212;the ones I am still trying to recover from. I am still ashamed of them, be it him, not being able to crack the exam or be it me watching that inappropriate stuff that disgusted me to the core, but you know, I am not a liar dear Ganga ji. I am so sorry for all the things that I have done but I want to do better now.</p><p>I know, I will probably make mistakes again, but I wanted to come clean. I am one hundred percent sure now that I never want to do those things ever. Please forgive me.</p><p>I am tearing this page and putting it into a dustbin, hoping that you&#8217;d understand. I know, I am talking to myself, but I still like to imagine you as my friend to whom I can come clean always. Thank you for being that.</p><p>I have decided to do something meaningful out of my life. I want to study really well now. I just hope this freaking anxiety leaves me forever.</p><p>It really makes me numb and leaves me unable to do anything sometimes. But I will now, and I will also try to keep myself under check and have control over my desires and feelings.</p><p>You might wonder why don&#8217;t I ask for help, right? Why am I not just studying, making new friends, exercising or just simply doing the things like others? It&#8217;s not that I don&#8217;t try. I am just tired of seeking help now. How can I burden people with all this ocean of feelings inside me?</p><p>I don&#8217;t want to need anyone now. I want to be friends with others but not because I need help. It&#8217;s not fair even if someone is willing to do it for me. I don&#8217;t like taking favours when I know that I probably won&#8217;t be able to return them.</p><p>I don&#8217;t know. I don&#8217;t want to seek anything from anyone. I just truly want to enjoy someone&#8217;s company. That&#8217;s it. And that is why I am not able to make new friends now, because I know I need to be able to tolerate my own self first.</p><p>People think I do everything deliberately. But why don&#8217;t they realise that it&#8217;s not that I want to ruin things for myself, I just can&#8217;t help it when I am feeling restless. You know, even breathing becomes a task then. I am not sure if I am making sense or not, but I do feel that way.</p><p>You know how it feels while taking a physics lecture sometimes? I honestly feel like getting up and running away. Blood rushes to my hands and legs when all I need is my mind to focus and relax.</p><p>It&#8217;s not like I am deliberately feeling restless. I know it&#8217;s not much of a big deal. But in that moment, it feels impossible to do anything. I don&#8217;t know why?</p><p>And I don&#8217;t even know if this is even true or not. But I just know one thing&#8212;that I try. I do.</p><p>It&#8217;s okay. I am trying. I just hope it gets better soon. As for everything else, I don&#8217;t know&#8212;and honestly, I don&#8217;t want to think much about the future either.</p><p>I love you. And I do love myself too, for trying. I know I feel the exact opposite at times, but it&#8217;s okay. I&#8217;ll keep trying and I&#8217;ll survive. I will..right?</p><p>Thank you.</p></blockquote><p>She finished writing but didn&#8217;t tear the page. She wanted to keep it as a reminder to not repeat the same mistakes again, and to stay true to what she really wanted in life.</p><p>She remembered how, a while ago, she was sitting near the gurudwara&#8217;s pond just as she was sitting near the bank on this day. She sat there for another fifteen-twenty minutes, then took her bicycle and rode back home.</p><p>She was smiling and so free in that moment. </p><p>She knew things might change tomorrow and she could find herself caught in the storm again, but she was a bit more ready to fight the storms, to be stronger than them, to face them and keep trying&#8212;just like she always had before.</p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-5?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-5?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Ps- </strong><em>I think this is the final chapter of this series now. I didn&#8217;t intend to write it at all, but I was missing it a few days back and hence the result. This series is really close to my heart. I don&#8217;t know why. Maybe, because it feels kind of like&#8212;home. This was the one that felt like I was having a conversation with someone who understands, even if it&#8217;s just me who had written this XD. I know this is weird but still.</em></p><p><em> I might write another season or another part of this series in future, if I miss it too much again. I know it was pretty longer and hence most of the people couldn&#8217;t read it whole, but it&#8217;s long because it has so many things. I couldn&#8217;t have compromised in all those lengthy monologues or descriptive paragraphs. I loved writing it, even when it overwhelmed my own self while I reread constantly to proofread and edit.</em></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Pss- </strong>If you&#8217;re going through a tough time and are feeling emotionally overwhelmed, anxious, drained or just are in the phase of overthinking, please know that it&#8217;s not your fault and it&#8217;s not going to last forever. </p><p>It&#8217;s difficult, I can&#8217;t even imagine what you must be feeling, but please always remember that it happens to a lot of us and would eventually get better with our constant efforts. And, if at any point&#8212;you feel like it&#8217;s getting out of control, try seeking professional help if possible. It would really help. And if you couldn&#8217;t, there are several other ways. You don&#8217;t have to go through it all alone. I am sharing a link to a mental health website. That could also help in times of emergency. </p><p>And one of the other ways is to vent out online XD. I know we don&#8217;t feel like talking then, so writing it and posting it here might help sometimes. Just please keep trying. </p><p><strong>Link to a confidential and professional mental health website</strong>&#8212; <a href="https://icallhelpline.org/">icall link</a> (A lot of other options are also available. All we need to do is&#8212;try.)</p><p>Feel free to vent out here, if you ever need to. Rest, I am so proud of you champion, for making all the efforts, for still sticking here. You&#8217;re really precious. And the world needs you. I am really grateful for your existence. Take care, dear friend. </p><p><em><strong>A biig hug and lots of love!!</strong></em></p><div><hr></div><p>This was once my comfort song. (I mentioned few others in the previous post. Cavetown is really a genius.)</p><div id="youtube2-2APLh8_ExU0" class="youtube-wrap" data-attrs="{&quot;videoId&quot;:&quot;2APLh8_ExU0&quot;,&quot;startTime&quot;:null,&quot;endTime&quot;:null}" data-component-name="Youtube2ToDOM"><div class="youtube-inner"><iframe src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/2APLh8_ExU0?rel=0&amp;autoplay=0&amp;showinfo=0&amp;enablejsapi=0" frameborder="0" loading="lazy" gesture="media" allow="autoplay; fullscreen" allowautoplay="true" allowfullscreen="true" width="728" height="409"></iframe></div></div><div><hr></div><p><em>If you made it till here&#8212;Thank you so much for reading this. I really appreciate your presence here. It matters more than I can ever express. Thank you. I would really love to listen to your thoughts on this one and your story too. </em></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-5/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-5/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>If you&#8217;d like to support my work, you can do so here-</strong></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;buy me a coffee/ flowers&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>buy me a coffee/ flowers</span></a></p><p><em>It&#8217;s a link to &#8216;buy me a coffee&#8217; website, but since I am a tea person and I don&#8217;t drink coffee, this sounded most valid, lol. Your support would help me keep writing and sharing more stories like this. Thank you for being here.</em></p><div><hr></div><p>Until Next Time, </p><p>Take great care and a biiiigg hug!! I</p><p>Thank you so much for bearing with me and for having so much patience. </p><p>And don&#8217;t forget&#8212;<em>You are really lovely, and I am so proud of you for keep going. You&#8217;re gonna do very great. </em></p><p>Seeya soon in the next one, </p><p>Yours, </p><p>Ameliorating A.</p><p><em>This is really my favourite story series.. hehe&#8230; A biiiiiiiiiig hug before finally ending it :)) </em></p><div><hr></div><div id="youtube2-ugm2SOScEqA" class="youtube-wrap" data-attrs="{&quot;videoId&quot;:&quot;ugm2SOScEqA&quot;,&quot;startTime&quot;:null,&quot;endTime&quot;:null}" data-component-name="Youtube2ToDOM"><div class="youtube-inner"><iframe src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/ugm2SOScEqA?rel=0&amp;autoplay=0&amp;showinfo=0&amp;enablejsapi=0" frameborder="0" loading="lazy" gesture="media" allow="autoplay; fullscreen" allowautoplay="true" allowfullscreen="true" width="728" height="409"></iframe></div></div><p><em>&#8220;Par khulne ki deri hai, Parinde udd ke chumenge, </em></p><p><em>Aasmaan, Aasmaan, Aasmaan&#8230;&#8221;</em></p><p>(<em>It&#8217;s only a matter of time before the wings open wide,</em></p><p><em>The birds will rise and kiss&#8212;</em></p><p><em>The sky, The sky, The endless sky&#8230;)</em></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe now&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?"><span>Subscribe now</span></a></p><p></p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[LOVE DOESN'T MATTER...RIGHT? (Part-4)]]></title><description><![CDATA[A story of spirals. A glimpse into what goes on in the mind of an anxious person&#8212;sometimes.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-4</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-4</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Thu, 10 Jul 2025 14:15:10 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1719671749913-684a8752e16b?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyN3x8c3BpcmFsfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MjA4ODk5MXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>A note before you start</strong>- <em>This is the Part-4 of the story, &#8216;Love Doesn&#8217;t Matter&#8230;Right?&#8217; If you haven&#8217;t read the earlier parts, that&#8217;s completely okay. The chapters aren&#8217;t closely connected, but reading the previous ones might give you a better understanding of the characters and their journey.</em> </p><p>And to be honest, I don&#8217;t even want you to read this. I just wrote it so that it could exist and maybe someone, somewhere could use it someday.</p><p><em>Links to previous parts&#8212;<a href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-70628e2bdd18?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false">Part-1</a></em>, <em><a href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-part-2?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false">Part-2</a>, <a href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-3?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false">Part-3</a> </em></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>A gentle request</strong>&#8212;<em> I would really appreciate you reading the full post first before interacting with it in any way. This piece holds a lot of emotional weight, and it means a lot to me that it&#8217;s received in its entirety. Thank you.</em></p><div class="pullquote"><p><strong>Disclaimer&#8212;</strong>This was difficult to write alone. I&#8217;m not sure how it would feel to read this.<br>This piece is entirely fictional and contains intense depictions of anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and emotional distress, including thoughts of self-harm. <strong>Reader discretion is advised.</strong><br>If you&#8217;re going through emotional distress, please know that you&#8217;re not alone. There&#8217;s no shame in reaching out&#8212;to doctors, mental health professionals, or even just someone you trust.<br><strong>We all deserve to feel well. We deserve to feel happy.</strong></p><p>And again, this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance, with real people and places, is purely coincidental. </p></div><p></p><h4>Present Day&#8212;</h4><p><em>Okay, Shree. Calm down. It&#8217;s okay. It&#8217;s alright. Don&#8217;t worry about it. These are just thoughts, okay?</em> She whispered, shaking her right leg.</p><p><em>Damn, I didn&#8217;t want to deal with this ever again. I didn&#8217;t want this to happen right now. What do I even do? Watching the phone isn&#8217;t working either. </em></p><p>She picked up a pillow from the bed beside her desk and hugged it tightly.</p><p>She moved away from her desk and went towards the balcony. Her eyes were fixed on the plants there, but she was still lost in her thoughts.</p><p><em>I am such an idiot you know. I can never crack this exam ever in this life. What haven&#8217;t I tried to calm down and focus? But did anything ever work?</em></p><p><em>No.</em></p><p><em>I should have just done the graduation after twelfth. This isn&#8217;t for me. And why do I even want to be a doctor? I know it&#8217;s such a cool profession and I really am fascinated by biology. But how the hell could I ever be it?</em></p><p><em>If I can&#8217;t study much right now, how the hell would I be able to study those humongous textbooks in medical college? I don&#8217;t know what I should do?</em></p><p><em>I shouldn&#8217;t have even been born. What&#8217;s the point of me living anyway? All I do is just waste my parents&#8217; hard-earned money and be a burden on them and the society. I don&#8217;t deserve anything.</em></p><p><em>I am just a liar, an idiot, a procrastinator and a foolish person. I don&#8217;t deserve to live.</em></p><p>Her gaze was on the plants still. Her hands were cold, and she could still hear her heart pounding. She was still rocking her right foot up and down, and her forehead felt like it was tightly wrapped in an invisible band.</p><p><em>Why? Why am I like this?</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t know..</em></p><p><em>Yes, because you&#8217;re an idiot.</em></p><p><em>You always mess things up and then play the victim card for yourself. You&#8217;re an idiot. You shouldn&#8217;t live. You hurt others too. You don&#8217;t deserve anything.</em></p><p>She gasped for a deep breath and looked up at the sky.</p><p><em>What am I even thinking, huh? Isn&#8217;t it alright to make mistakes? A lot of people make mistakes&#8212;even very weird ones.</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t wanna die, do I?</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t. I don&#8217;t but I don&#8217;t like living either. I hate myself, dear sky. I really do.</em></p><p><em>I am the worst person. And these sharp words actually feel calming. It feels like I am getting the punishment I deserved. I really deserve to suffer.</em></p><p><em>I really am so bad.</em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s the truth, no matter how much it hurts, but it would still remain a bitter truth.</em></p><p><em>The truth that I have tried covering up with sheets of promises&#8212;of trying, of not doing the same mistakes again, to be a better person and what not&#8212;is filled with so many holes.</em></p><p><em>When you look from far, you see lies in the form of holes first, before the promises with which I tried so hard to cover the truth.</em></p><p><em>I am not gonna do that again, I promise.</em></p><p><em>And, if I did this again, I will seriously just quit everything and jump. I am so done with all this.</em></p><p>She shivered at the thought of jumping.</p><p><em>Wait a minute. What? What am I even thinking? I can&#8217;t.</em></p><p><em>Oh, God. Please silence these thoughts. I can&#8217;t keep thinking like this. I can&#8217;t. I am so sorry for everything.</em></p><p><em>I will figure something out, but I can&#8217;t keep having the thought of dying in my head, all the time. I don&#8217;t want to die. I promise I won&#8217;t repeat the same mistakes again. I promise I won&#8217;t even miss a single class. I won&#8217;t even try talking to anyone now. I know I mess up everything.</em></p><p><em>But wait. What? Is talking to people also wrong?</em></p><p><em>Damn, I am so done with these freaking thoughts. I am not gonna do anything. Everything goes to hell.</em></p><p>She stood up and went back to her room. She lay down on the bed and squeezed her eyes shut.</p><p><em>I will sleep and everything would be fine. It would be fine.</em></p><p><em>What the hell? How do I stop this freaking heart from racing? It&#8217;s making me nauseous.</em></p><p>She rolled on to her side, folded her legs and moved them closer to her chest. She tucked one pillow between her arms and put the other one on her face.</p><p>She tried taking deep breaths and attempted to clear the thoughts still circling in her head.</p><p><em>It&#8217;s alright, Shree. It&#8217;s alright. I am okay. I have gone through this before. I can go through it again. It&#8217;s alright. It&#8217;s alright.</em></p><p><em>And these are just thoughts, right? Just freaking thoughts. Don&#8217;t worry, Shree. Your brain is just messing with you. It would be alright. Breathe.</em></p><p>She kept whispering to herself and tried to sleep.</p><p><em>Goshh! I can&#8217;t even breathe with this freaking heart racing so fast. Please calm down, Heart. Please.</em></p><p>She thought and buried her face even more in the pillow.</p><p>She started taking deep breaths. One breath... Two...Three... And after a few minutes she fell asleep.</p><div><hr></div><h4><strong>Thirty minutes later&#8212;</strong></h4><p>She woke up with a violent jerk. She sat up and felt her heart pounding even louder now. She touched her forehead&#8212;it was covered in sweat.</p><p><em>It was a dream. It was just a dream.</em></p><p><em>Nothing bad has happened. Mom is right here. How can anything happen to her? No-No, she&#8217;ll never throw me out of the house over this. It was just a dream.</em></p><p><em>Did she ever scold me over bad marks?</em></p><p><em>No, right?</em></p><p><em>Why did I even see such a dream?</em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s just a dream. Nothing else. Breathe, Shree, breathe.</em></p><p>She ran downstairs to her mom, who was making lunch.</p><p>&#8220;Mamma? Are you okay?&#8221; she said, panting.</p><p>&#8220;What happened to you, Shree? Why do you look so afraid? Is everything alright?&#8221; her mother asked, concerned, looking at her eyes full of tears and her hair messed up.</p><p>She hugged her mom tightly and just didn&#8217;t let go. Her mom switched off the stove and patted her back.</p><p>&#8220;What happened? Tell me," she kept asking but Shree couldn&#8217;t say anything.</p><p>After a few moments, when her mom pulled her to her front, she saw that Shree was crying.</p><p>&#8220;What&#8217;s wrong, Shree? Tell me. I am really getting worried now. Is something hurting? Tell me,&#8221; her mom asked again.</p><p>&#8220;I saw a bad dream, mamma! I don&#8217;t want to do this anymore. I don&#8217;t feel good at all. I can&#8217;t handle this. I can&#8217;t. Please take me to the doctor. I can&#8217;t handle this anymore,&#8221; Shree said, tears streaming down her cheeks.</p><p>&#8220;What happened, Shree? Why do you want to go to the doctor? What&#8217;s wrong, baby? Tell me, please,&#8221; her mom asked, wiping her tears with her saaree.</p><p>&#8220;Mamma, I am not feeling good. Please take me to the doctor. I think I need medication and counselling. My heart is racing, and I can&#8217;t concentrate. I am feeling so restless. I can&#8217;t even sleep. I can&#8217;t even enjoy watching the phone.</p><p>I don&#8217;t feel like eating. I don&#8217;t feel like talking. I don&#8217;t even feel like going outside.</p><p>It&#8217;s been happening since last week. I can&#8217;t take it anymore. I am sorry. I can&#8217;t give this exam now. I can&#8217;t study. I want to leave my studies altogether. I can&#8217;t do it, Mom,&#8221; Shree said, still crying. </p><p>She had no control over her emotions at this point.</p><p>&#8220;What are you talking about, Shree? Counselling? Medicines? What happened? You were all good until this morning. What happened all of a sudden?&#8221; her mom asked as she hugged her, clearly confused.</p><p>&#8220;Mamma, I am not fine. I am not even able to sit near books. I didn&#8217;t want to tell you all this, but this is getting out of my control now,&#8221; Shree said, with a choking voice.</p><p>&#8220;What do you mean by not feeling good? You have everything. Why don&#8217;t you feel good? Don&#8217;t think like this, Shree.</p><p>I was so scared thinking what must be hurting. Your friends are doing it too, right? Aren&#8217;t they facing problems? You can do it too. Just shrug it off and focus on studying. Why are you thinking so much?&#8221; she said, turning on the stove again.</p><p>&#8220;Why don&#8217;t you understand, Mom? How many times have I told you this? I am not able to concentrate on studies since almost past ten days. My heart had been racing so fast. I am not even able to sleep well. </p><p>You know, even in my sleep, my heart doesn&#8217;t calm down. Thoughts still keep running in my head. I wake up violently at least twice before finally waking up in the morning. I am also getting frequent headaches. Please understand, Mom.</p><p>It was happening when I was in Vikramshila too. But then I came back here, and things got better. Now, it&#8217;s happening all over again. Please, Ma. Do something,&#8221; Shree said as she stormed back to her room.</p><p>She sat on the chair and took out her diary.</p><p>She started writing, thinking: the only thing that might make me feel better is probably the diary.</p><div><hr></div><h4>Busy lives, even busier people&#8212;</h4><blockquote><p>Dear Diary,</p><p>You know, those dark days have come back. I am not feeling good at all. I hate it when I could feel my heart beating against my chest like this. I don&#8217;t know what to do. Mom thinks that I am making it up and that &#8216;Anxiety&#8217; doesn&#8217;t exist. How do I tell her how messed up everything feels right now? You know, I was thinking of dying earlier.</p><p>She paused writing for a moment and just stared at the sentence; she was still rocking her right leg.</p><p>After letting out a sigh, she started writing again. A drop of tear fell on the paper and smudged the ink.</p><p>Diaruu, you know, I miss Shashi so much. I wish I could talk to her right now. Whenever I used to feel bad in school, I used to call her, and everything would get fine after that. But now, we have all grown so much, and I don&#8217;t know what the hell is wrong with me that I always need someone.</p><p>I don&#8217;t want to talk about him. You know that, right? But I miss him so much at times. But why? For god&#8217;s sake how could I have a crush on someone so much older than me? I thought we were good friends. But all that was just an illusion.</p></blockquote><p>She took out her phone and just stared at the screen without unlocking it. She would type the password but then clear it&#8212;trying to resist opening it.</p><p>After a minute or so, she did unlock it and opened his id&#8212;That same blank id with just his name.</p><p>She recalled how she used to write such a long text to him whenever she used to feel too overwhelmed. She used to send those texts and later delete them too, for she didn&#8217;t want to make herself look like an attention seeker. She did send a few of the texts, and as usual he would reply to them at a fixed time of the day, no matter when you sent it.</p><p>She would check her phone almost thirty times a day just to check if there was any message from him. She used to mute the notifications, put the chat in archive, but even after trying everything to ignore him, she couldn&#8217;t.</p><h4>Two years back&#8212; </h4><p>Shree was so overwhelmed with the exam pressure, self-image, and comparison with her fellow mates, she made a mistake of trying to find a relief in people&#8212;Shyam and Shashi.</p><p>She knew they were busy people&#8212;busy with life and responsibilities. Back then she was fascinated by how they were managing everything.</p><p>She wanted to talk to them; she wanted their presence. When that couldn&#8217;t get possible, she gradually started to rely on her own and diary. Shashi was still there. She and Shree still talked over texts and calls weekly, but for almost about six months, Shyam wasn&#8217;t in touch with her.</p><p>She was trying to move on for him. She was reluctant to accept that she liked talking to him, waited eagerly for his text and calls and wished that for once he texted first, and how she could meet him at least once. It was hard for her to move on from him and from the idea of him in her mind.</p><p>Once, it was her mock test in two days. She was in absolute panic. She did know the concepts, but her revision was still pending.</p><p>She was trying to complete it, trying to relax and focus, but it wasn&#8217;t working. Instead, she was just going deep into the anxious state.</p><p><em>What would I say this time, huh? Why am I not able to do it?</em></p><p><em>Did you see Rimjhim? She had already completed her syllabus and stayed after the class to clear her doubts.</em></p><p><em>And here is me, who couldn&#8217;t even finish the revision, forget about module questions and all. What the hell am I doing? I really don&#8217;t want to do this.</em></p><p>She thought as she closed her books and lay down on the bed.</p><p>She kept switching sides, attempted to at least focus on the reels, but nothing was working. Her heart was pacing, and thoughts constantly flooded her mind.</p><p>She went in the balcony, played some songs, and stared at the people moving on the street below.</p><p><em>How carefree these people seem? What&#8217;s wrong with me? I know I overthink, but how to make it stop? People easily say, &#8216;Don&#8217;t think much,&#8217; but why don&#8217;t they understand that it&#8217;s not under my damn control. If it was, why would I do it?</em></p><p><em>But maybe they are right. Maybe I do this deliberately. Probably to escape things? And maybe for seeking attention? I am really an attention seeker, no? How cringe could I get?</em></p><p>The loop of thought kept swirling in circles instead of clearing up.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1719671749913-684a8752e16b?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyN3x8c3BpcmFsfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MjA4ODk5MXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1719671749913-684a8752e16b?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyN3x8c3BpcmFsfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MjA4ODk5MXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Buddha Elemental 3D</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>She went back inside the room, opened the books and tried to study again. Whenever she would feel stuck at a question, she felt she could never do it.</p><p>After around thirty minutes of continuing, she closed her books again and decided to go somewhere away from there.</p><p><em>The air here is so suffocating. Where should I even go? I can&#8217;t stay here.</em></p><p>She thought, as her restlessness peaked.</p><p><em>Anywhere would work. I just need to go outside right now.</em></p><p>She whispered, as she started fixing her hair.</p><p><em>Let&#8217;s go to gurudwara. Lunch would still take time, and I am sick of eating Pg&#8217;s food anyway.</em></p><p>She finally locked the door to her room and stepped outside.</p><p><em>Finally, some air.</em> She thought, plugged in her earphones, and played some music.</p><p>She clicked so many pictures of places and things on the way.</p><p>She remembered how Shyam had recommended this place to her a long time ago.</p><p>She was constantly thinking of sending him the pictures and telling him how cool her visit was. But she knew she couldn&#8217;t.</p><div><hr></div><h4>It made sense why it was almost everyone&#8217;s favourite place&#8212;</h4><p>On reaching the gurudwara, she observed how people at the shoe deposition section so gently asked for the shoes of the visitors, so as to put them in the respective drawers and even gave the token number to them, through which they can get their shoes back on returning.</p><p>This was new to her. She was aware of the ritual of removing the shoes before entering the temples, but she had never seen people happily placing visitors' shoes carefully into shelves. She was a bit surprised, but she really appreciated this gesture.</p><p>On moving further, she was handed a piece of cloth to wrap around her head as per the rule. </p><p>On entering the praying area, she sat down for some time and listened to the &#8216;Gurbani&#8217; being sung there.</p><p>Everyone was quietly listening and praying, with their heads bowed. She felt calm somehow. She didn&#8217;t believe in God, but seeing people with so much sincerity and devotion calmed her racing heart a bit.</p><p>After some time, she stood up and went towards the Langar area.</p><p>This was her first time at a <em>Gurudwara, </em>and she didn&#8217;t know how things worked. But when she reached the langar section she got another surprise.</p><p>She learned from the people there the concept of S<em>eva</em> (Service). She learned how people here volunteered to help in chopping the vegetables, preparing the meals, serving the foods, washing the dishes, cleaning the area and much more.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1603647840063-7c2e00ce4deb?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxiYW5nbGElMjBzYWhpYnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTIxNTYyMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1603647840063-7c2e00ce4deb?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxiYW5nbGElMjBzYWhpYnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTIxNTYyMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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cooking&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="man in blue jacket cooking" title="man in blue jacket cooking" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1603647840063-7c2e00ce4deb?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxiYW5nbGElMjBzYWhpYnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTIxNTYyMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1603647840063-7c2e00ce4deb?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxiYW5nbGElMjBzYWhpYnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTIxNTYyMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1603647840063-7c2e00ce4deb?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxiYW5nbGElMjBzYWhpYnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTIxNTYyMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1603647840063-7c2e00ce4deb?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxiYW5nbGElMjBzYWhpYnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTIxNTYyMjN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Avinash Guruvayoor</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>This really filled her with so much warmth and joy. &#8220;Can I also volunteer?&#8221; she asked the &#8216;Sardar Ji&#8217; who was telling her all this.</p><p>The Sardar Ji laughed and said, &#8220;Why not? You can place your bag over her if it doesn&#8217;t have any valuables.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;I am not carrying much cash, Uncle. And my phone is here in my pocket. I am so eager to help,&#8221; she said in response and placed her backpack on the chair.</p><p>She volunteered in serving the food to people sitting in rows on the floor.</p><p>After few rounds of carrying the heavy bucket of curry while serving, she was tired. But, she was enjoying it so much and didn&#8217;t bother.</p><p>When she went to refill the bucket after the fifth round, Sardar Ji asked her to sit down and eat herself.</p><p>&#8220;I am not tired, Uncle. I can do few more rounds,&#8221; she said smiling.</p><p>&#8220;Bete, this is your first time. It&#8217;s enough for now. This is not an easy task. People&#8217;s backs hurt later, after constantly bowing down and carrying the heavy bucket. It&#8217;s okay. You can do more seva next time you come.</p><p><em>Seva </em>is like this only. Once you start, you don&#8217;t feel like stopping. <em>Seva</em> gives joy after all. Sit down. Other people will serve you now,&#8221; he explained to Shree who was astonished by the kindness of these people.</p><p>She sat down and ate the hot meal served, heartily.</p><p><em>I feel like I am eating the homemade food. This is soo good. How is it this tasty? It&#8217;s just simple &#8216;kadhi-chawal&#8217; but it tastes heavenly.</em></p><p>She thought as she put the first bite into her mouth.</p><p>After eating, she took her plate to the washing area and there also she saw people doing the dishes, in large numbers. She joined them and continued for around twenty minutes.</p><p>After that, she went to the pond area which she had heard about the most.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1742405417384-61ddf0dce69d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8YmFuZ2xhJTIwc2FoaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUyMTU2MjIzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1742405417384-61ddf0dce69d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8YmFuZ2xhJTIwc2FoaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUyMTU2MjIzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1742405417384-61ddf0dce69d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8YmFuZ2xhJTIwc2FoaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUyMTU2MjIzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1742405417384-61ddf0dce69d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8YmFuZ2xhJTIwc2FoaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUyMTU2MjIzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1742405417384-61ddf0dce69d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8YmFuZ2xhJTIwc2FoaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUyMTU2MjIzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1742405417384-61ddf0dce69d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8YmFuZ2xhJTIwc2FoaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUyMTU2MjIzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="3060" height="4080" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1742405417384-61ddf0dce69d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8YmFuZ2xhJTIwc2FoaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUyMTU2MjIzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:4080,&quot;width&quot;:3060,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;Gurudwara bangla sahib reflects in serene water.&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="Gurudwara bangla sahib reflects in serene water." title="Gurudwara bangla sahib reflects in serene water." srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1742405417384-61ddf0dce69d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8YmFuZ2xhJTIwc2FoaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUyMTU2MjIzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1742405417384-61ddf0dce69d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMXx8YmFuZ2xhJTIwc2FoaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUyMTU2MjIzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, 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9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Aanshul D</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>The pond was really beautiful, and it made sense to her why it was so famous.</p><p>No one was allowed to stand near the pond for too long. They were allowed to touch the water, watch the fishes in it and then move in the line so as to not make the area crowded. Shree went near the pond, and it instantly reminded her of the &#8216;Gangaji&#8217; from her hometown.</p><p>She did the same thing as others but something in her didn&#8217;t just want to leave yet.</p><p>She decided to sit in the sheltered area a few steps away from the pond. She sat on the floor like few other people and just stared at calm water.</p><p>She felt at peace here. Finally, her heart had stopped racing, and she was breathing properly.</p><p><em>I don&#8217;t want to go back to my room. It&#8217;s suffocating there.</em></p><p>She thought but felt like she was talking to the pond.</p><p>That pond became hers that day. She sat by it for almost an hour and was lost in its beauty. She confessed all her worries and pain.</p><p>It was at that moment she decided to return back home in a month, for she was no longer able to handle it all alone here.</p><div><hr></div><h4>Why now? &#8212;</h4><p>A few days later, it was a new year&#8217;s morning, and she was with her parents, for a day. She received an unexpected text from someone, which brought her mixed emotions. </p><p>It had been six months since Shyam hadn&#8217;t texted back or seen her messages. She indeed was very hurt and waited for an entire month. And after that, one day she just cleared the entire chat and decided to not think about it anymore. It&#8217;s that day Shree truly understood what ghosting meant.</p><p>So, on New year&#8217;s morning, she received the text from Shyam, wishing her &#8216;Happy New Year.&#8217;</p><p>She was stunned.</p><p>For once she was so happy about the unexpected surprise, but a moment later she realized she had developed feelings for him. And it was pretty difficult for her to move on.</p><p><em>Why the hell is he texting now? Did he care at all about how I was these past six months? Does he even know that things got so bad that I called &#8216;i-call&#8217; (mental helpline) three times in a month? Why now? I don&#8217;t want to text back.</em></p><p>She deleted the chat without opening it and tossed her phone aside for the whole day. The presence of her parents brought warmth which she badly needed.</p><p>She asked them about moving back, to which they suggested to just complete two more months of her coaching and then come back.</p><p>She agreed half-heartedly.</p><p>In the evening, when she was no longer able to contain the thought&#8212;<em>How weird am I, huh? He texted me &#8216;Happy New Year&#8217;. I can&#8217;t even reply the same to him? How bad would I look? But do I care? Why did I even care that he didn&#8217;t text me for six months? But why would he send a text now? I don&#8217;t want to talk to him.</em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s so exciting. But no, I don&#8217;t want to talk to him now.</em></p><p><em>What should I even do? I should just text back and probably just delete chat again and maybe he would vanish for forever this time. I don&#8217;t want to feel or think anything about him now. I wish I never talked to him in the first place. S</em>he thought and decided to just respond back with, &#8220;Happy New Year. Wishing you a great year ahead,&#8221; and also delete the chat and forget that something ever happened.</p><p>She did send the text but couldn&#8217;t find peace and went back to checking her phone constantly for his reply.</p><p>His reply came the next day at ten in the morning&#8212;his usual fixed time to text back according to her observation. He had asked how she was.</p><p>And from there, Shree started talking to him occasionally again. It still hurt her when she used to wait for his responses, but things were okay.</p><p>She thought, <em>Thank God I didn&#8217;t lose another friend. I don&#8217;t like losing any of my friends. I don&#8217;t have many to begin with.</em></p><p>Two months pass like that, and she came back home before even her coaching ended, for it got really bad one day before her mock exam. She was crying for a reason she couldn&#8217;t figure out, but her head had started aching, her stomach felt upset and her heart felt like it would rip off from her chest.</p><p>She called her mom and when her mom listened to her voice, she immediately sent Shree&#8217;s dad to pick her up.</p><p>Shree was home within a week.</p><div><hr></div><h4>Home Sweet Home&#8212;</h4><p>After about a month of coming back, Shree asked Shyam if they could talk on a call since it had been so long.</p><p>He agreed and Shree went to her favorite spot on the terrace to talk to him.</p><p>&#8220;Hey, how are you doing? How&#8217;s everything going at home?&#8221; Shyam asked Shree.</p><p>Shree who was so excited to talk to him after so many days, replied in utmost excitement, &#8220;I am fine. I am doing fine now. Being at home is comforting. What about you? How&#8217;s everything?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;I am good too.&#8221; he said, and his voice got muffled.</p><p><em>It seems he&#8217;s talking to somebody at home. But wasn&#8217;t he living alone before? Maybe a friend or someone came over. </em>She was thinking as she waited for him to return to the call.</p><p>&#8220;Oh, hey. So, what was I saying? Oh yeah, did I tell you something? I got married.&#8221; He said in a nonchalant way, very casually.</p><p>Shree was stunned at what she heard. &#8220;I couldn&#8217;t hear you. Can you please repeat? Your voice was breaking earlier,&#8221; she said, even when she heard everything clearly. She just wanted to make sure.</p><p>&#8220;I said I got married. I told you, didn&#8217;t I?&#8221; he repeated again.</p><p>Shree&#8217;s excitement faded away and she was frozen. She felt a lump in her throat. And her eyes welled up. She looked at the sky above her, as if asking him to rescue her from this situation.</p><p>&#8220;Hello, you there? Am I audible?&#8221; Shyam said, upon not hearing her.</p><p>&#8220;Yes-yes. I am here only. That&#8217;s a great news. You didn&#8217;t tell me, though. But I am really so happy for you. How&#8217;s she? You love travelling, right? Now you even have a companion to go with. Many many congratulations. I am so happy for you,&#8221; she said trying to sound as excited as before.</p><p><em>I need to go. Please end the call now. What the hell? What&#8217;s even happening to me? </em>She thought, as she felt her throat choking and her the world in front of her closing in.</p><p>&#8220;Thank you so much. Yeah, that&#8217;s really exciting. We just came back from the Snow valley last month,&#8221; Shyam responded, in the same calm way as usual.</p><p>Shree heard someone calling him for eating something.</p><p>&#8220;I think she is calling you. You go eat. You must be tired from the office. We&#8217;ll talk later. Congratulations again. Bye. Seeya,&#8221; Shree said, desperately waiting for the call to end.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah-yeah. She&#8217;s just calling me to have dinner. Will talk later. Take care. Seeya,&#8221; he wasn&#8217;t able to finish the sentence when Shree disconnected the call.</p><p>She held her breath for a few seconds, and her eyes were fixed on the city in front of her. Even tears left her this time. She was just numb.</p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-4?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-4?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><p><strong>To be continued&#8230;</strong></p><div><hr></div><p><em>Links to previous parts&#8212;<a href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-70628e2bdd18?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false">Part-1</a></em>, <em><a href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-part-2?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false">Part-2</a>, <a href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-3?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false">Part-3</a> </em></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Ps</strong>- <em>If you&#8217;re going through emotional distress, anxiety and even overthinking, please remember you&#8217;re not alone. </em></p><p><em>It does seem like the world is collapsing and that nothing could be better ever. We could not help but feel that impending doom is inevitable, but please, don&#8217;t give up. No matter what, no matter how long it&#8217;s been or even if it feels like nothing could be done. </em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s alright. It happens sometimes, and it doesn&#8217;t feel good at all. But, we have to try again, no matter what. Do anything that seems possible, but don&#8217;t succumb to those dark thoughts ever. I am not trying to sound preachy here. I just want to request you to take care of yourself and not give up. </em></p><p><em>We could figure out something. It would be difficult, but there&#8217;s always a way. And, believe in time, it would make things digestible, but only if we stayed. </em></p><p><em>So, please, if you ever feel like it&#8217;s getting too much, don&#8217;t rush towards anything. Try whatever feels most possible and I truly believe in you. You&#8217;re a fighter. You&#8217;ve gone through so much and still you&#8217;re here. And I and the world, is really so proud of you for that. I promise everything would be better in some time. Maybe it would take longer than we would like, but that&#8217;s no reason to stop right here. </em></p><p><em>You&#8217;re so courageous and you&#8217;re not alone in this. We have truly got this, okay? </em></p><p><em> Take care. The world needs you. Thank you for existing. You matter more than you can believe sometimes.</em></p><p><em>And medicines do work. I can understand how hard it is to actually seek professional help, but if you can, please do. It really works. You&#8217;ll be so better very soon. And you&#8217;d be so proud of yourself. I am so proud of you, if it helps. </em></p><p>Link to a confidential and professional mental health website&#8212; <a href="https://icallhelpline.org/">icall link</a> (A lot of other options are also available. All we need to do is&#8212;try. </p><p><em>A big hug sending your way. You&#8217;re lovely. Please stay strong. </em></p><div><hr></div><p>These feel so calming to me at times&#8212;</p><iframe class="spotify-wrap" data-attrs="{&quot;image&quot;:&quot;https://i.scdn.co/image/ab67616d0000b2731bf45d47ebe7291c580309ed&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;Talk to Me&quot;,&quot;subtitle&quot;:&quot;Cavetown&quot;,&quot;description&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://open.spotify.com/track/3znD2JTezT8ZLkp2pmft2l&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;noScroll&quot;:false}" src="https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/3znD2JTezT8ZLkp2pmft2l" frameborder="0" gesture="media" allowfullscreen="true" allow="encrypted-media" loading="lazy" data-component-name="Spotify2ToDOM"></iframe><iframe class="spotify-wrap" data-attrs="{&quot;image&quot;:&quot;https://i.scdn.co/image/ab67616d0000b2734c8477e435cf410b0aaad3ec&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;it's ok!&quot;,&quot;subtitle&quot;:&quot;corook&quot;,&quot;description&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://open.spotify.com/track/65QnKbugRDVJK6MBdwkKBo&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;noScroll&quot;:false}" src="https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/65QnKbugRDVJK6MBdwkKBo" frameborder="0" gesture="media" allowfullscreen="true" allow="encrypted-media" loading="lazy" data-component-name="Spotify2ToDOM"></iframe><iframe class="spotify-wrap" data-attrs="{&quot;image&quot;:&quot;https://i.scdn.co/image/ab67616d0000b2730e26db222796cf4207425abc&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;Zinda&quot;,&quot;subtitle&quot;:&quot;Amit Trivedi&quot;,&quot;description&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://open.spotify.com/track/1gEHNfJRSXpDVaEicwRRfe&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;noScroll&quot;:false}" src="https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/1gEHNfJRSXpDVaEicwRRfe" frameborder="0" gesture="media" allowfullscreen="true" allow="encrypted-media" loading="lazy" data-component-name="Spotify2ToDOM"></iframe><div><hr></div><p>If you made it till here&#8212;Thank you so much for reading this. I really appreciate your presence here. It matters more than I can ever express. Thank you.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-4/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-4/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>If you&#8217;d like to support my work, you can do so here&#8212;</strong></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;buy me a book/flowers&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>buy me a book/flowers</span></a></p><p><em>It&#8217;s a link to &#8216;buy me a coffee&#8217; website, but since I am a tea person and I don&#8217;t drink coffee, this sounded most valid, lol. Your support would help me keep writing and sharing more stories like this. Thank you for being here. </em></p><div><hr></div><p>Until Next Time, </p><p>Take really good Care.</p><p>And don&#8217;t forget&#8212;you&#8217;re precious. </p><p>See you very soon in the next one.</p><p>Yours, </p><p>Ameliorating A. </p><p></p><p></p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Home Between Calls]]></title><description><![CDATA[Chapter 4- Of rain, Laughter, Quiet forehead kisses, and finally a Sorry.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-eef</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-eef</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Sat, 05 Jul 2025 13:08:23 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/f5f8b1f3-8f2b-4e73-9c8a-c3e59981693a_1536x1024.png" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Part-1</p><div class="digest-post-embed" data-attrs="{&quot;nodeId&quot;:&quot;213dc6df-4a76-495a-86f6-228e1a10bc59&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;Disclaimer- This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.&quot;,&quot;cta&quot;:&quot;Read full story&quot;,&quot;showBylines&quot;:true,&quot;size&quot;:&quot;sm&quot;,&quot;isEditorNode&quot;:true,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;Home Between Calls&quot;,&quot;publishedBylines&quot;:[{&quot;id&quot;:322261931,&quot;name&quot;:&quot;Ameliorating A&quot;,&quot;bio&quot;:&quot;'I'm just a little bit, caught in the middle, life's a maze and love is a riddle.'&quot;,&quot;photo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2d176cc3-2036-4d80-8d63-0e8a11909d48_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;is_guest&quot;:false,&quot;bestseller_tier&quot;:null}],&quot;post_date&quot;:&quot;2025-06-24T10:51:15.685Z&quot;,&quot;cover_image&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1604807788279-ea778c075cee?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzN3x8bW90aGVyJTIwYW5kJTIwbmV3JTIwYm9ybiUyMGluJTIwYSUyMGNyaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwNzYxNDcwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;cover_image_alt&quot;:null,&quot;canonical_url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls&quot;,&quot;section_name&quot;:&quot;STORIES&quot;,&quot;video_upload_id&quot;:null,&quot;id&quot;:166695056,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;newsletter&quot;,&quot;reaction_count&quot;:14,&quot;comment_count&quot;:12,&quot;publication_id&quot;:null,&quot;publication_name&quot;:&quot;HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;publication_logo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!lyoP!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F743614f0-c32f-4726-af49-a654cb287a04_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;youtube_url&quot;:null,&quot;show_links&quot;:null,&quot;feed_url&quot;:null}"></div><p>Part-2</p><div class="digest-post-embed" data-attrs="{&quot;nodeId&quot;:&quot;37e2905c-bce7-406d-b459-514af665b6cd&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;You can checkout Part-1 here- Chapter 1 - Jay's Worlds&quot;,&quot;cta&quot;:&quot;Read full story&quot;,&quot;showBylines&quot;:true,&quot;size&quot;:&quot;sm&quot;,&quot;isEditorNode&quot;:true,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;Home Between Calls&quot;,&quot;publishedBylines&quot;:[{&quot;id&quot;:322261931,&quot;name&quot;:&quot;Ameliorating A&quot;,&quot;bio&quot;:&quot;'I'm just a little bit, caught in the middle, life's a maze and love is a riddle.'&quot;,&quot;photo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2d176cc3-2036-4d80-8d63-0e8a11909d48_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;is_guest&quot;:false,&quot;bestseller_tier&quot;:null}],&quot;post_date&quot;:&quot;2025-06-26T15:34:50.421Z&quot;,&quot;cover_image&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1568450902879-3b3ffb882ecb?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx3aW5kb3clMjBsb29raW5nJTIwb3V0JTIwdG8lMjBuaWdodCUyMHNreSUyMGFuZCUyMGNpdHl8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwOTUxNTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;cover_image_alt&quot;:null,&quot;canonical_url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-f5a&quot;,&quot;section_name&quot;:&quot;STORIES&quot;,&quot;video_upload_id&quot;:null,&quot;id&quot;:166897744,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;newsletter&quot;,&quot;reaction_count&quot;:10,&quot;comment_count&quot;:10,&quot;publication_id&quot;:null,&quot;publication_name&quot;:&quot;HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;publication_logo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!lyoP!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F743614f0-c32f-4726-af49-a654cb287a04_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;youtube_url&quot;:null,&quot;show_links&quot;:null,&quot;feed_url&quot;:null}"></div><p>Part-3</p><div class="digest-post-embed" data-attrs="{&quot;nodeId&quot;:&quot;a445cda7-09dd-43a5-a180-59021d8bdcb1&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;You can check out Part-1&#8212;&quot;,&quot;cta&quot;:&quot;Read full story&quot;,&quot;showBylines&quot;:true,&quot;size&quot;:&quot;sm&quot;,&quot;isEditorNode&quot;:true,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;Home between Calls-&quot;,&quot;publishedBylines&quot;:[{&quot;id&quot;:322261931,&quot;name&quot;:&quot;Ameliorating A&quot;,&quot;bio&quot;:&quot;'I'm just a little bit, caught in the middle, life's a maze and love is a riddle.'&quot;,&quot;photo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2d176cc3-2036-4d80-8d63-0e8a11909d48_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;is_guest&quot;:false,&quot;bestseller_tier&quot;:null}],&quot;post_date&quot;:&quot;2025-07-01T10:51:36.369Z&quot;,&quot;cover_image&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!l12e!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;cover_image_alt&quot;:null,&quot;canonical_url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-912&quot;,&quot;section_name&quot;:&quot;STORIES&quot;,&quot;video_upload_id&quot;:null,&quot;id&quot;:167252175,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;newsletter&quot;,&quot;reaction_count&quot;:10,&quot;comment_count&quot;:6,&quot;publication_id&quot;:null,&quot;publication_name&quot;:&quot;HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;publication_logo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!lyoP!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F743614f0-c32f-4726-af49-a654cb287a04_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;youtube_url&quot;:null,&quot;show_links&quot;:null,&quot;feed_url&quot;:null}"></div><div class="pullquote"><p><strong>Disclaimer</strong>- This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.</p></div><h4><em>It makes sense why this place was Neel&#8217;s favourite&#8212;</em></h4><p>&#8220;Yes, you guessed it right. Let&#8217;s go there. The view at this time would be spectacular,&#8221; he said, looking at her with excitement.</p><p>On reaching the top, they entered a wide, beautiful space with so many colourful flowers and plants. The region was so fragrant with all the flowers and fresh grass that it felt like a whole different world. The area also overlooked a spectacular lake beneath it.</p><p>Aarna walked with quick steps towards the railings at the end. As she looked down, the peaceful lake reflected the sky above.</p><p>The lake was a blend of blue and pink, and it seemed like the clouds were grooming themselves by using the lake as a mirror.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1632431391826-6cf4109c930d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw4fHxldmVuaW5nJTIwc3Vuc2V0JTIwY2xvdWRzJTIwb3Zlcmxvb2tpbmclMjBhJTIwbGFrZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTE3MTkyMTN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1632431391826-6cf4109c930d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw4fHxldmVuaW5nJTIwc3Vuc2V0JTIwY2xvdWRzJTIwb3Zlcmxvb2tpbmclMjBhJTIwbGFrZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTE3MTkyMTN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1632431391826-6cf4109c930d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw4fHxldmVuaW5nJTIwc3Vuc2V0JTIwY2xvdWRzJTIwb3Zlcmxvb2tpbmclMjBhJTIwbGFrZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTE3MTkyMTN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1632431391826-6cf4109c930d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw4fHxldmVuaW5nJTIwc3Vuc2V0JTIwY2xvdWRzJTIwb3Zlcmxvb2tpbmclMjBhJTIwbGFrZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTE3MTkyMTN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1632431391826-6cf4109c930d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw4fHxldmVuaW5nJTIwc3Vuc2V0JTIwY2xvdWRzJTIwb3Zlcmxvb2tpbmclMjBhJTIwbGFrZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTE3MTkyMTN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1632431391826-6cf4109c930d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw4fHxldmVuaW5nJTIwc3Vuc2V0JTIwY2xvdWRzJTIwb3Zlcmxvb2tpbmclMjBhJTIwbGFrZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTE3MTkyMTN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="2268" height="4032" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1632431391826-6cf4109c930d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw4fHxldmVuaW5nJTIwc3Vuc2V0JTIwY2xvdWRzJTIwb3Zlcmxvb2tpbmclMjBhJTIwbGFrZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTE3MTkyMTN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:4032,&quot;width&quot;:2268,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;a large body of water sitting under a cloudy sky&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="a large body of water sitting under a cloudy sky" title="a large body of water sitting under a cloudy sky" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1632431391826-6cf4109c930d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw4fHxldmVuaW5nJTIwc3Vuc2V0JTIwY2xvdWRzJTIwb3Zlcmxvb2tpbmclMjBhJTIwbGFrZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTE3MTkyMTN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1632431391826-6cf4109c930d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw4fHxldmVuaW5nJTIwc3Vuc2V0JTIwY2xvdWRzJTIwb3Zlcmxvb2tpbmclMjBhJTIwbGFrZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTE3MTkyMTN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1632431391826-6cf4109c930d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw4fHxldmVuaW5nJTIwc3Vuc2V0JTIwY2xvdWRzJTIwb3Zlcmxvb2tpbmclMjBhJTIwbGFrZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTE3MTkyMTN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1632431391826-6cf4109c930d?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw4fHxldmVuaW5nJTIwc3Vuc2V0JTIwY2xvdWRzJTIwb3Zlcmxvb2tpbmclMjBhJTIwbGFrZXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTE3MTkyMTN8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Logan Yakos</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>A gentle breeze was rustling the leaves which felt like winds playing the music. The evening sun was still up in the sky but was gradually sinking. Aarna was mesmerized, her gaze shifting between the lake and the sky again and again.</p><p>Neel was quietly watching Aarna, who seemed completely lost in the view, unaware of his presence.</p><p>He smiled and pulled out a novel from his backpack.</p><p>He sat on the bench and started reading, while Aarna wandered from one end to the other, smelling the flowers and taking pictures of everything on her phone.</p><p>The sun was about to set completely.</p><p>The dark clouds gathered heavily, but the sky had this orange glow that covered everything under it in a natural filter.</p><p>After some time, Aarna came back to where he was sitting. She sat beside him and looked at him, this time intently, without keeping it a secret.</p><p>&#8220;Thank you so much Neel for asking me to come with you here. This place is pure bliss. I really had so much fun, and I am feeling so peaceful here,&#8221; she said to him, and he looked up from his book. Their eyes met and this time&#8212;no one shifted their gaze.</p><p>He didn&#8217;t say a word; he just looked at her face, which seemed especially beautiful under the warm orange glow. They both kept looking at each other and their gaze shifted only when a tiny droplet fell on Neel&#8217;s cheek.</p><p>They looked upwards and the number of falling drops increased as it started raining. Neel quickly slipped his novel in his backpack and instinctively reached for Aarna&#8217;s hand.</p><div><hr></div><h4><em>Rain is a classic after all&#8212;</em></h4><p>She gave him a glance as her heart started pounding, but he simply said, &#8220;Let&#8217;s move to the shed over the stairs, okay?&#8221;</p><p>She couldn&#8217;t say anything, just nodded in agreement. He took her hand, and they ran quickly to the shed where they were shielded from the rain.</p><p>As they reached the shed, he realized that he was still holding Aarna&#8217;s soft hand, and he immediately let go. Their eyes met for a second, but they quickly looked away</p><p>&#8220;Uff. I didn&#8217;t expect it to rain today at all. The sky was clear in the afternoon. There were no clouds,&#8221; he said nervously, while pretending to brush off the water droplets that fell on his hair and skin.</p><p>&#8220;So true. I didn&#8217;t anticipate it either. I would have brought an umbrella otherwise,&#8221; she responded with the same nervousness and imitated his gesture of wiping the water droplets off her hand.</p><p>They stood there quietly as the raindrops drummed on the shed&#8217;s roof. Other people also gathered there, waiting for rain to subside and then continuing on their ways again.</p><p>The dark clouds made it look like it was already late evening. The sky had turned deep blue, and the earthy smell of rain made the whole place feel even more fresh and alive.</p><p>&#8220;You&#8217;re getting late to go back, right? I understand. Let the rain soften a bit and then we&#8217;ll leave immediately. I know how strict the girl&#8217;s hostel wardens are. Don&#8217;t worry, we&#8217;ll reach on time, okay?&#8221; Neel said, watching Aarna constantly checking the time on her phone.</p><p>She looked at him, and thought&#8212;<em>Dude, how sweet he is! He could read my face. I sure don&#8217;t want to leave but dad would call soon too, and I don&#8217;t want to miss his call or lie to him now</em>.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, it&#8217;s okay. We&#8217;ll leave once it subsides. See? The wind is blowing&#8212;it would stop raining soon, I guess,&#8221; she reassured him.</p><p>They both stood there silently now, observing the surroundings with few other people in the shade.</p><p>After a few minutes, it stopped raining. And then Neel quickly asked her to come along.</p><p>They went downstairs and started walking towards the exit gate. The greenery became even more vibrant and alive after the rain and the atmosphere felt almost mystical.</p><p>&#8220;I am sorry I couldn&#8217;t show you around more. It&#8217;s such a big park. If you would like we can come here again someday and then we would explore the whole park,&#8221; Neel said to Aarna, who was still lost in the view.</p><p>&#8220;Hey, I really had a lot of fun. This place is truly beautiful&#8212;I can see why it&#8217;s your favourite. I loved it here honestly. I would very much like to come again soon. Maybe on a Sunday?</p><p>So that we could come early and spend as much time as needed to explore the whole park,&#8221; she said, as her lips curved into a sweet smile. She gave him a quick glance and quickly looked away at the ground.</p><p>&#8220;Oh yeah. That sounds great. We&#8217;ll plan it for sure,&#8221; he said with the same smile.</p><p>They left the park through the exit gate, and luckily, they found an auto already waiting. They both got in and soon they left the lush green trees of the park behind them.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1709089748098-94cf30168cf7?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxwYXJrJTIwYWZ0ZXIlMjByYWlufGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTcyMDIzOXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1709089748098-94cf30168cf7?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxwYXJrJTIwYWZ0ZXIlMjByYWlufGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTcyMDIzOXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1709089748098-94cf30168cf7?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxwYXJrJTIwYWZ0ZXIlMjByYWlufGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTcyMDIzOXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="1872" height="4160" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1709089748098-94cf30168cf7?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxwYXJrJTIwYWZ0ZXIlMjByYWlufGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTcyMDIzOXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:4160,&quot;width&quot;:1872,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;a paved road with a car driving down it&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="a paved road with a car driving down it" title="a paved road with a car driving down it" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1709089748098-94cf30168cf7?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxwYXJrJTIwYWZ0ZXIlMjByYWlufGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTcyMDIzOXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1709089748098-94cf30168cf7?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxwYXJrJTIwYWZ0ZXIlMjByYWlufGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTcyMDIzOXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1709089748098-94cf30168cf7?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxwYXJrJTIwYWZ0ZXIlMjByYWlufGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTcyMDIzOXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1709089748098-94cf30168cf7?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzfHxwYXJrJTIwYWZ0ZXIlMjByYWlufGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTcyMDIzOXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 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href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p><em>It was such a sweet day, wasn&#8217;t it? </em>Aarna thought, looking at her hand.</p><p>Neel shifted slightly towards her such that their legs and shoulders began to brush. A wave of nervousness ran through Aarna. She looked at him questioningly&#8212;but couldn&#8217;t help smiling.</p><p>Their eyes met for a brief moment before they turned back to the view outside the open windows.</p><p>Aarna stole a quick glance at him when he was looking away. He was smiling, which made her smile even harder.</p><p>After a few moments, when they had about ten minutes before reaching their college campus, Neel took Aarna&#8217;s hand in his. This time it wasn&#8217;t awkward, for Aarna willingly curled her fingers around his. They still couldn&#8217;t look at each other, but the smile on both of their faces widened.</p><p>They didn&#8217;t speak to each other after that. But for once, Aarna was aware of Neel&#8217;s gaze on her when her hair was coming on her face and she was tucking them behind her ears. She kept looking outside, pretending not to notice. Neel was also aware of Aarna&#8217;s eyes on him at one point, when he was looking outside, but he didn&#8217;t show it either.</p><p>They reached the college campus soon and were standing at the front gate where their ways needed to part.</p><div><hr></div><h4><em>Can we just not leave yet? &#8212;</em></h4><p><em>I don&#8217;t want to leave just yet. </em>Aarna was thinking as they both were standing there and no one initiated moving.</p><p><em>I really had a great time. I wish we could spend some more time together.</em> Neel thought too.</p><p>After standing there nervously for a moment, Aarna curled her fingers into a fist, finally looked at him, and said, &#8220;I had a really great time with you, Neel&#8212;both yesterday at the movies with our group, and especially today.</p><p>Thank you so much for taking me to the park. I loved it. I would be looking forward to meeting you again soon,&#8221; she heaved a sigh, turning away from him. Her heart was beating fast.</p><p>&#8220;Same here, Aarna. I loved it too. We&#8217;ll plan to go there again, soon. Maybe we could catch up on calls till then or text till then?&#8221; He asked hesitantly.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah sure. That would be great,&#8221; she said facing him and their eyes met again.</p><p>They didn&#8217;t move this time. Both of their hearts were thumping loudly against their chests.</p><p>Neel took a step closer to her; his gaze grew intense. She didn&#8217;t back off, but a drop of sweat flowed along the side of her face. He realized her panic and didn&#8217;t move closer then. He took her hand again and their fingers laced together.</p><p>&#8220;I really don&#8217;t want to go, Aarna. But I know we would have to leave right now,&#8221; he said, without thinking, and, closing his eyes, he kissed her forehead softly.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!pD2O!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2e11cf3a-32ef-44c8-b945-fb7fa0c1a28f_1024x1536.png" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!pD2O!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2e11cf3a-32ef-44c8-b945-fb7fa0c1a28f_1024x1536.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!pD2O!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2e11cf3a-32ef-44c8-b945-fb7fa0c1a28f_1024x1536.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!pD2O!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2e11cf3a-32ef-44c8-b945-fb7fa0c1a28f_1024x1536.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!pD2O!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2e11cf3a-32ef-44c8-b945-fb7fa0c1a28f_1024x1536.png 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!pD2O!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2e11cf3a-32ef-44c8-b945-fb7fa0c1a28f_1024x1536.png" width="1024" height="1536" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2e11cf3a-32ef-44c8-b945-fb7fa0c1a28f_1024x1536.png&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:1536,&quot;width&quot;:1024,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:3694584,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/png&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/i/167578188?img=https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2e11cf3a-32ef-44c8-b945-fb7fa0c1a28f_1024x1536.png&quot;,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!pD2O!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2e11cf3a-32ef-44c8-b945-fb7fa0c1a28f_1024x1536.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!pD2O!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2e11cf3a-32ef-44c8-b945-fb7fa0c1a28f_1024x1536.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!pD2O!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2e11cf3a-32ef-44c8-b945-fb7fa0c1a28f_1024x1536.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!pD2O!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2e11cf3a-32ef-44c8-b945-fb7fa0c1a28f_1024x1536.png 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">The old ones were so cute. ChatGPT messed up a bit this time. But I hope it still works, lol. </figcaption></figure></div><p>He pulled his hand apart and in panic he asked, unsure, &#8220;I am sorry. I am so sorry. See ya later?&#8221;</p><p>Aarna&#8217;s palms were sweaty, and her heart was still pounding. &#8220;Yeah, sure. See ya soon. Talk to you later. I should get going too. Bye,&#8221; she blurted out and started walking towards her hostel lane.</p><p>&#8220;Bye,&#8221; Neel said impulsively and went his way too.</p><p>&#8220;Wait, what just happened with you, Aaru?&#8221; she thought, her legs still trembling a little. She jumped with joy and quickened her pace.</p><p>Neel, on the other hand was still in shock about why he did what he did.</p><p><em>Are you a fool, Neel? Yuck. What did you do? h</em>e thought to himself but couldn&#8217;t stop smiling.</p><p>He went back to his room and played, &#8216;I think they call this love&#8217;. He sang along with the lyrics&#8212; &#8220;Hesitation never helps, how could this be anything, anything else..when..,&#8221; and turned on the fairy lights of his room. He danced joyfully until the song ended. </p><p>(<a href="https://youtu.be/e1mOmdykmwI?si=oh1whbJKzaROKZot">'I think they call this love' song link</a>)</p><div><hr></div><h4><em>Finally, some good timing&#8212;</em></h4><p>Just as Aarna was unlocking the door to her room, Jay called.</p><p><em>What a perfect timing! I am so glad Dad didn&#8217;t call earlier, </em>she thought, and picked up the phone.</p><p>&#8220;Hey dad,&#8221; she said excitedly, trying to cheer him up and to figure out from his reaction whether he was still mad at her or not.</p><p>&#8220;Hi, Aaru,&#8221; Jay said calmly.</p><p><em>He&#8217;s still a bit upset, I think. Otherwise, he would have definitely said, &#8220;Hi, my dearest Aaru,&#8221; to my enthusiastic greeting. </em>She thought again.</p><p>&#8220;Did you call mom? I haven&#8217;t spoke to her since morning. I would call her after talking to you,&#8221; he asked.</p><p>When Aarna didn&#8217;t say anything, Jay sensed that she still had not call Siya.</p><p>&#8220;You should call her, Aaru,&#8221; he exclaimed and heaved a sigh.</p><p>Aarna&#8217;s smile faded and she thought, &#8220;She didn&#8217;t call either. Does she even care? Why should I call first? It was her fault too.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;How was your day dad?&#8221; She asked, to change the subject, lying down on the bed.</p><p>&#8220;It was okay. I had to go to the main office today. So, yeah it was bit hectic but okay. How was yours?&#8221; He explained and yawned.</p><p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t tell me that you went there by cycle, Dad. How many times we had told you to take a cab or auto when you go there? But you don&#8217;t listen. It&#8217;s freaking 6 kms away, Dad.</p><p>I understand cycling is good, but you are there all alone. You must be so tired now. How would you even cook now, huh? And I know you always say that you would order from outside, but you never do. Why?&#8221; She asked him almost yelling.</p><p>&#8220;Calm down, Aaru. It&#8217;s okay. It&#8217;s not that far. And why waste 100rs going somewhere when I can go for free by cycle? And outside food is so unhealthy and overpriced. What&#8217;s the point of eating it, if a man can cook for himself, huh?</p><p>Back when I was a kid, we used to get so happy if we saved 100 rupees in a month. My mom used to make kheer that day. Things are so expensive these days. Anyway, did you eat something?&#8221; He said, casually, like it was no big deal.</p><p>Aarna felt her heart sinking listening to her dad working so much just to save few hundred rupees. She recalled how she didn&#8217;t consider a few hundred rupees as such a big deal. And how she spends it almost daily&#8212;while eating out, going out with her friends, ordering dessert even when she was full, buying clothes when she still had plenty and on many other occasions where her parents didn&#8217;t mind doing the same, and spent generously to fulfill her smallest of the wishes. But when it came to their own selves, they would think twice before even buying fruit juice from a roadside stall.</p><p>She remembered how once, when they all went shopping together, they bought her three pair of t-shirts and trousers, but her mom bought only one saree, that too not the one she liked the most, because it was too expensive to her.</p><p>It cost half of what she spent on Aarna, but she still didn&#8217;t buy it. And her dad? He just bought a set of shirt-pant for his office.</p><p>And even when her mom asked him to buy a new pair of slippers, as the old ones' sole was damaged. It felt uneven to walk in it even on a smooth floor, but he didn&#8217;t listen and shrugged it off saying, &#8220;I had just bought a new pair of shoes for office. These slippers are just fine. Do they look broken from outside. No, right? Why to change perfectly good pair of slippers unnecessarily?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Hello? Aaru? Are you listening? Is my voice audible?&#8221; Aarna came back to reality at the sound of her dad&#8217;s voice on the phone.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, dad. I am listening. Everything is fine here. You cook something quickly and sleep. You don&#8217;t even get to rest well. Take care. I&#8217;m getting a call. I will call you back later,&#8221; she said and hung up the call.</p><p>Her eyes welled up and her thoughts spiraled back to the old days. A scene from few years back flashed in front of her eyes.</p><div><hr></div><h4><em>My family is the best</em>&#8212;</h4><p>&#8220;Aaru, come quickly baby. We are getting late.&#8221; Jay shouted from the front door while Siya was fixing Aarna&#8217;s hair. A taxi was standing in front of their house with its driver helping Jay put the suitcases and a big bag onto its back.</p><p>&#8220;She&#8217;s coming. Wait for a minute. I am almost done.&#8221; Siya shouted back, tying up her hair in a rubber band.</p><p>&#8220;Aaru, here have this &#8216;dahi-chini&#8217; quickly. And call me once you both board the train okay. Remember everything I told you and don&#8217;t fall for the wrong set of people in college, okay?&#8221; Siya said, handing her a bowl of yoghurt mixed with sugar for good omen.</p><p>&#8220;Yes, mamma. I remember everything. Don&#8217;t worry too much. It would be fine.&#8221; Aarna said while trying to eat quickly.</p><p>Few hours later they were on the train, and when she asked her dad from which train he would be going back home, he responded, &#8220;I will board any train coming here. I would board the night one. I will help you set up your room till evening and then I will board any night train coming here.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Didn&#8217;t you book the tickets already liked you booked this one a month before?&#8221; Aarna asked him, to which he said, &#8220;No, baby. I will buy the ticket on the spot only.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Would you travel in general class then? Why dad? See, how comfortable 2Ac coaches are. You should have booked the ticket. It&#8217;s eight hours after all.&#8221; She asked him again.</p><p>&#8220;Aaru, these tickets are too expensive, no? You were with me, that&#8217;s why I booked it in second class for now, but I am habitual of travelling in general. Don&#8217;t worry about it. I will manage.&#8221;</p><p><em>He said it in the same calm way as he did today</em>. Aarna thought and came back to the present.</p><p>Her eyes welled up with tears and she even forgot about her day with Neel at this point.</p><p><em>Mom and dad do so much for me. I had been so ungrateful to them for such a long time. This is not right, Aarna. This is not right</em>. She thought as tears flowed down her cheeks.</p><p>She dialed a number on her phone and waited for it to be answered, her heart was racing, and she hugged a pillow tight.</p><p>&#8220;Hello, Mamma. I am sorry, Mamma. I am really so sorry. I love you and dad so much. And I love when you guys call to check on me. I am really sorry,&#8221; she said to her mom, her voice choking as she was trying to breathe through the tears and hiccups.</p><p>&#8220;What happened, Aaru? Is everything alright? Why are you crying? Did something happen. Tell me, Aaru. I will call Jay right now and will ask him to go there,&#8221; Siya said concerningly on listening to her kid crying like that.</p><p>&#8220;No, mamma. Everything is fine. I am so sorry. I don&#8217;t want to lose you ever. I love you mamma. I am sorry for saying all those things earlier.&#8221; She said, still crying.</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s okay, Aaru. It&#8217;s alright. Why are you crying? Everything&#8217;s okay. I forgive you, Aaru. I was about to call you too. Tell me the truth. Everything is alright?&#8221; Siya asked, her heart started racing too thinking if Aarna was really fine or not.</p><p>&#8220;I am fine mamma,&#8221; Aarna managed to say with her breaking voice.</p><p>&#8220;Stop crying, Aaru. Listen to me. You can do whatever you want, Aaru. I was just concerned about your safety and future, but your happiness matters the most. And you can even go on dates. But please stop crying. Please,&#8221; Siya said, her own eyes started to well up.</p><p>Aarna, for a few moments, just kept crying, her breaths kept taking hiccups and Siya kept trying to console her.</p><p>After some time, Aarna finally stopped crying and they both started talking to each other.</p><p>Aarna even called Jay too and started a conference call. The three of them shared the details of their day and Aarna even told them a little about Neel.</p><p>They talked for a good thirty minutes before they decided that both Aarna and Jay would be visiting home at the end of the month for a week.</p><p>&#8220;I love you so much Mamma and Papa,&#8221; Aarna said, her lips curving into a smile.</p><p>&#8220;I love you too my baby,&#8221; Siya said.</p><p>Jay&#8217;s voice followed as he said, &#8220;I love you so much too, my dearest Aaru, my lovely ocean. And I also love you, my darling, my one and only love, my Siya.&#8221; He broke out into laughter knowing Siya&#8217;s reaction of calling him &#8216;the drama king&#8217; later.</p><p>&#8220;I knew it. See, Aaru? The drama king has started his drama again. I love you Mr. Husband,&#8221; Siya said, chuckling too.</p><p>&#8220;Oh gosh! You guys are just too much, huh? You don&#8217;t even shy away in front of your innocent little kid, no?&#8221; Aarna added jokingly.</p><p>&#8220;Innocent? And you? You just shut up, Aaru. And yeah, give me that &#8216;Neelgai&#8217;s (a wild cow) number.&#8221; Jay said to Aarna.</p><p>&#8220;What does that mean? His name is, Neel. Haww, Dad! You are calling him an animal. &#8216;<em>Katti</em>&#8217; (when kids fight and don&#8217;t talk to each other they call it a Katti), I won&#8217;t talk to you. And what would you even do with his number?&#8221; Aarna said, playfully.</p><p>&#8220;Jay is right. Guys are <em>Neelgai </em>only. Not only guys but everyone. Be careful. And I am saying it literally. Be safe, Aaru. Don&#8217;t trust a person too quickly. You are still too young to understand how cruel this world is,&#8221; Siya said, concern visible in her voice.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah-yeah, Mamma. I know. Don&#8217;t worry. He&#8217;s a good guy. And I promise, I will be careful. Do not worry about anything at all,&#8221; Aarna reassured Siya.</p><p>&#8220;Still forward me his number, okay? At least I would call him if next time, you won&#8217;t pick our calls, and your friends lie to us,&#8221; he said, teasing Aarna.</p><p>&#8220;Dad! I said sorry na. You want me to cry again? You know I get a headache after crying, right? I am sorry. I will pick your calls now and would call more frequently myself,&#8221; Aarna said to Jay.</p><p>&#8220;Aaru? Don&#8217;t you know I hate tears? Seriously, you and your mom both are identical in this thing. I hate tears ladies. Please don&#8217;t make me laugh more. My stomach is hurting now,&#8221; Jay said laughing.</p><p>Siya and Aarna also started laughing and after continuing like this, the call ended after a few moments with a smile on all three of their faces.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6ZAP!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5e46ca82-097e-4447-a252-9d819ba3e723_1536x1024.png" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6ZAP!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5e46ca82-097e-4447-a252-9d819ba3e723_1536x1024.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6ZAP!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5e46ca82-097e-4447-a252-9d819ba3e723_1536x1024.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6ZAP!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5e46ca82-097e-4447-a252-9d819ba3e723_1536x1024.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6ZAP!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5e46ca82-097e-4447-a252-9d819ba3e723_1536x1024.png 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6ZAP!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5e46ca82-097e-4447-a252-9d819ba3e723_1536x1024.png" width="1456" height="971" 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srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6ZAP!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5e46ca82-097e-4447-a252-9d819ba3e723_1536x1024.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6ZAP!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5e46ca82-097e-4447-a252-9d819ba3e723_1536x1024.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6ZAP!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5e46ca82-097e-4447-a252-9d819ba3e723_1536x1024.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6ZAP!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5e46ca82-097e-4447-a252-9d819ba3e723_1536x1024.png 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">This one&#8217;s a bit better, right? ChatGPT was tired today.</figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>Aarna sighed after ending the call and thought&#8212;<em>I am going to be a better kid to them from now on.</em></p><p>Her phone beeped and when she checked it, she jumped from the bed with joy. It was Neel&#8217;s text saying, &#8220;Meet at the history section of the library tomorrow? I think we can create our own history.&#8221;</p><p>She replied with, &#8220;Yes, that sounds like a great idea. I love history.&#8221;</p><p>It was finally a good day for everyone.</p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-eef?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-eef?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><p></p><div><hr></div><p><em>Thank you so much for reading the fourth and final part&#8212; &#8216;Of rain, Laughter, Quiet forehead kisses, and finally a Sorry.&#8217;&#8212;of &#8216;<strong>Home Between Calls</strong>&#8217;. I truly enjoyed writing this so much. And I hope you enjoyed reading this too. Thank you so much for all your constant encouragement and for your love towards this one. I am really grateful for having you. </em></p><p>If you would like to extend your support further and contribute a bit towards my writing journey. You can do so here&#8212;</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;buy me a coffee/book&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>buy me a coffee/book</span></a></p><p>Your support helps me keep writing and sharing these stories. Thank you truly for being a part of this journey.</p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Ps:</strong>- That song? I was obsessed with it while I was writing it and hence the result. It&#8217;s a charming song, though. XD. </p><p>And, this is fiction folks. I know this doesn&#8217;t work like that in real life. Nobody can kiss anyone, not even on a forehead on a second date, lol. I know it&#8217;s unreal. But it&#8217;s just fiction. I don&#8217;t know why I am even saying this. But thank you for bearing with me.</p><div><hr></div><p>I would love to read your views, feedback, and opinion on this story. And, if you would like to share your own experiences or a personal anecdote on something similar, I am all ears. Please do let me know if you find areas of improvement. Your comments mean a lot to me. Thank you so much for everything.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-eef/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-eef/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p>Until Next time,</p><p>Take lots of care and don&#8217;t forget to remove your muddy shoes outside so as not to get scolded by parents/ partners/ or your own self later on. </p><p>Enjoy the monsoon, if it&#8217;s raining in your city :))</p><p>Seeya soon in the next one. </p><p>Thank You, </p><p>Yours, </p><p>Ameliorating A</p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Home between Calls-]]></title><description><![CDATA[Chapter 3- I Want to Say Sorry, But..]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-912</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-912</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 01 Jul 2025 10:51:36 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!l12e!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>You can check out Part-1&#8212;</p><div class="digest-post-embed" data-attrs="{&quot;nodeId&quot;:&quot;82fcb03a-ec6a-4e44-bf46-aeb501a27139&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;Disclaimer- This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.&quot;,&quot;cta&quot;:&quot;Read full story&quot;,&quot;showBylines&quot;:true,&quot;size&quot;:&quot;sm&quot;,&quot;isEditorNode&quot;:true,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;Home Between Calls&quot;,&quot;publishedBylines&quot;:[{&quot;id&quot;:322261931,&quot;name&quot;:&quot;Ameliorating A&quot;,&quot;bio&quot;:&quot;'I'm just a little bit, caught in the middle, life's a maze and love is a riddle.'&quot;,&quot;photo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2d176cc3-2036-4d80-8d63-0e8a11909d48_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;is_guest&quot;:false,&quot;bestseller_tier&quot;:null}],&quot;post_date&quot;:&quot;2025-06-24T10:51:15.685Z&quot;,&quot;cover_image&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1604807788279-ea778c075cee?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzN3x8bW90aGVyJTIwYW5kJTIwbmV3JTIwYm9ybiUyMGluJTIwYSUyMGNyaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwNzYxNDcwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;cover_image_alt&quot;:null,&quot;canonical_url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls&quot;,&quot;section_name&quot;:&quot;STORIES&quot;,&quot;video_upload_id&quot;:null,&quot;id&quot;:166695056,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;newsletter&quot;,&quot;reaction_count&quot;:14,&quot;comment_count&quot;:12,&quot;publication_id&quot;:null,&quot;publication_name&quot;:&quot;HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;publication_logo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!lyoP!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F743614f0-c32f-4726-af49-a654cb287a04_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;youtube_url&quot;:null,&quot;show_links&quot;:null,&quot;feed_url&quot;:null}"></div><p> And Part-2 here&#8212;</p><div class="digest-post-embed" data-attrs="{&quot;nodeId&quot;:&quot;e98e290d-2c5b-4572-95de-0ef1d2a72766&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;You can checkout Part-1 here- Chapter 1 - Jay's Worlds&quot;,&quot;cta&quot;:&quot;Read full story&quot;,&quot;showBylines&quot;:true,&quot;size&quot;:&quot;sm&quot;,&quot;isEditorNode&quot;:true,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;Home Between Calls&quot;,&quot;publishedBylines&quot;:[{&quot;id&quot;:322261931,&quot;name&quot;:&quot;Ameliorating A&quot;,&quot;bio&quot;:&quot;'I'm just a little bit, caught in the middle, life's a maze and love is a riddle.'&quot;,&quot;photo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2d176cc3-2036-4d80-8d63-0e8a11909d48_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;is_guest&quot;:false,&quot;bestseller_tier&quot;:null}],&quot;post_date&quot;:&quot;2025-06-26T15:34:50.421Z&quot;,&quot;cover_image&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1568450902879-3b3ffb882ecb?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx3aW5kb3clMjBsb29raW5nJTIwb3V0JTIwdG8lMjBuaWdodCUyMHNreSUyMGFuZCUyMGNpdHl8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwOTUxNTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;cover_image_alt&quot;:null,&quot;canonical_url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-f5a&quot;,&quot;section_name&quot;:&quot;STORIES&quot;,&quot;video_upload_id&quot;:null,&quot;id&quot;:166897744,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;newsletter&quot;,&quot;reaction_count&quot;:10,&quot;comment_count&quot;:10,&quot;publication_id&quot;:null,&quot;publication_name&quot;:&quot;HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;publication_logo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!lyoP!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F743614f0-c32f-4726-af49-a654cb287a04_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;youtube_url&quot;:null,&quot;show_links&quot;:null,&quot;feed_url&quot;:null}"></div><div><hr></div><div class="pullquote"><p><em><strong>Disclaimer- </strong>This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.</em></p></div><h4>The Next Morning&#8212;</h4><p>Aarna woke up with a jerk, and when she looked at the time on her phone, she quickly jumped off the bed.</p><p><em>No, this can&#8217;t be happening right now! It&#8217;s seven-thirty already? </em>She put the phone aside and went straight to the bathroom to get ready.</p><p>After taking a shower, she looked at the clock and it was already seven-fifty.</p><p><em>Gosh! I am so late. I don&#8217;t even have time for breakfast now.</em> Her stomach growled as she quickly fixed her hair.</p><p>She wore her backpack and stormed out of the room.</p><p><em>It&#8217;s all mom&#8217;s fault. She didn&#8217;t even care to wake me up? And dad? He didn&#8217;t call either. Nobody loves me. And I am stupid too. Why did I have to say all that last night? What must they be thinking now? </em>Her eyes welled with tears as she thought to herself.</p><p>She was moving with quick steps but just as she was about to cross the hallway, something struck her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she stopped.</p><p><em>Damn it. I forgot to lock the door. God, every bad thing needs to happen today only?</em></p><p>She muttered and took a U-turn back to her room. The door was fully open indeed. She quickly locked the door, put the key in her bag and sprinted towards her college building.</p><p>&#8220;May I come in, Sir.&#8221; She asked the professor who had already begun the lecture. After a good scolding and inquiring her about the reason for being late, he let her in.</p><p>During their break, her group of friends decided to go to the library today. She also agreed in the moment and soon was laughing and chatting among her friends on the way like usual, but her eyes were searching for someone else the whole time.</p><p>They reached the library and scattered to different sections of their individual interests. Aarna was exploring the section containing non-fiction and was completely lost in checking out the books with interesting titles. As she was leafing through a book on human evolution and history, a sudden familiar voice stunned her. She flinched.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1721046013656-0a0980264689?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHxjb2xsZWclMjBsaWJyYXJ5fGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTM2NjcwN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1721046013656-0a0980264689?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHxjb2xsZWclMjBsaWJyYXJ5fGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTM2NjcwN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1721046013656-0a0980264689?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHxjb2xsZWclMjBsaWJyYXJ5fGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTM2NjcwN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1721046013656-0a0980264689?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHxjb2xsZWclMjBsaWJyYXJ5fGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTM2NjcwN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1721046013656-0a0980264689?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHxjb2xsZWclMjBsaWJyYXJ5fGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTM2NjcwN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1721046013656-0a0980264689?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHxjb2xsZWclMjBsaWJyYXJ5fGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MTM2NjcwN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="16384" height="10923" 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1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Irfan Syahmi</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>&#8220;Hey,&#8221; the voice exclaimed, and when she turned around, she saw it was Neel.</p><p>&#8220;Hey! You scared me.&#8221; She said trying hard to hide the smile on her face, but she was clearly blushing.</p><p>&#8220;Oh, so you like non-fiction? This is really great. I also love reading books on evolution. But my favorite genre is science fiction.&#8221; Neel said excitedly, looking at the book she was holding.</p><p>&#8220;Oh yeah. I do find evolutionary history very interesting. But my favourite genre is fiction. I just love how they portray emotions so well and in such a vivid way that it totally engrosses the person reading it. To be honest, science fiction is not my thing, but I love reading.&#8221; Aarna expressed, her eyes trying to avoid his as much as they could.</p><p><em>Oh, no! Why is he here in the library? Gosh, how do I face him. This is really embarrassing</em>. She thought to herself as her heart was thumping loudly against her chest.</p><p><em>Please stop smiling, Aarna. Please. </em>She thought again and attempted to look at him secretly, avoiding eye contact.</p><p>&#8220;So, what are you doing later today? I am planning to visit Central Park in the evening. Would you like to come along?&#8221; Neel asked Aarna who was trying to hide her face behind the book, pretending to explore other books on the shelf.</p><p>She stopped at once when he asked her to go out with him. She looked at him and realised that he wasn&#8217;t kidding.</p><p>She immediately looked away, pretending to focus on the shelf again, she thought&#8212;<em>Gosh, is this really happening? What should I say? What would I say to mom and dad if they called? Maybe, I should just say yes and then I would ask him to come back early. Yeah, that would be nice. This is going to be very exciting.</em></p><p>&#8220;I am actually free this evening. And I have been wanting to visit Central Park since a long time too. It is the perfect opportunity. But I have to get back a bit early if that&#8217;s okay.&#8221; She hesitantly said to Neel who was leafing through another book on evolution.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, that&#8217;s fine. We would leave early and then come back early too.&#8221; He offered nonchalantly.</p><p>&#8220;Okay, then. Seeya at four-thirty?&#8221; She asked him, this time looking intently at him.</p><p>&#8220;Done. And yeah, here&#8217;s my number. We&#8217;ll meet at college&#8217;s main gate at four-thirty, okay? Let me know once you reach there.&#8221; He said, taking out a sticky notepad from his front pocket. He wrote down his number and handed it to her.</p><p>&#8220;Okay. I&#8217;ll text you once I reach there.&#8221; She said, trying not to look too excited, though inside, she was jumping with joy.</p><p>&#8220;I should get going now. I have a class in a few minutes, and I have to make a call to home before that. Seeya soon.&#8221; He said and walked towards the exit door.</p><p>She watched his gait and was mesmerized by the way he walked. She sighed as he finally walked out the door.</p><p><em>Uff. Now, this was exciting</em>. She giggled and jumped with excitement.</p><div><hr></div><h4><em>I know I said that..But I was waiting for your call&#8212;</em></h4><p>She paused, startled, when her stomach growled loudly. She realized that she hadn&#8217;t eaten anything since last night. And all of a sudden, the big smile on her face disappeared, when she recalled that it was almost noon and her parents still hadn&#8217;t called her.</p><p>She took out her phone and, staring at it, thought&#8212;<em>Should I call mom myself? I really crossed the line this time. She seems very upset, otherwise she would have called me at least thrice till now. Dad must be busy at work, otherwise, he would have called definitely. What should I do?</em></p><p>After a moment she decided not to call and wait for some more time before calling. She went to her other friend in a different section and asked her to accompany her to the canteen.</p><p>They went to the canteen together, and she ordered &#8216;Idli-Sambar&#8217; for both.</p><p>Her friend cancelled her order, saying she was full. Aarna enjoyed her meal alone while her friend read a book she had picked from the library.</p><p>&#8220;I am so full now. Finally, I feel so satisfied. Let&#8217;s go now.&#8221; She said, pinching her friend who was still lost in the book.</p><p>&#8220;So, where are you headed now?&#8221; Aarna&#8217;s friend elbowed her hinting that she saw Neel talking to Aarna in the library.</p><p>Aarna was a bit surprised that her friend saw both of them together, but then a rosy glow appeared on her cheeks.</p><p>&#8220;You saw us? Actually, he asked me if I would like to accompany him to Central Park. So, I think I am going out with him again, today.&#8221; She said grinning.</p><p>&#8220;You got a crush on him? Girl, see yourself. You&#8217;re blushing so much.&#8221; Her friend teased her laughing.</p><p>&#8220;I love his voice. And his hair. And the way he walks. And talks. It was so exciting with him at the movies yesterday. I hope everything goes well today too.&#8221; She said closing her eyes and walking bit slower. Her ear-to-ear smile stayed still.</p><p>&#8220;Aarna, where are we going, huh? We are just walking. Neel has really captured your mind, hasn&#8217;t he? Let&#8217;s go back to the class.&#8221; Her friend stopped her when they were about to reach the front gate, walking aimlessly.</p><p>&#8220;Oh, right. Classes! Let&#8217;s go back quickly. I can&#8217;t handle another professor&#8217;s scolding today.&#8221; Aarna said, snapping back to reality and both of them playfully ran back to class.</p><p>A few hours later, when her classes got over, she went back to her hostel room.</p><p>As soon as she reached, the first thing she did was to take out her phone and see if it was on silent and if she had missed a call from her parents. But to her disappointment, there was no call from her parents.</p><p><em>Well, I am gonna call dad now. I can no longer handle all this. I need to call dad. I&#8217;ll just tell him sorry. It&#8217;s okay Aaru, we&#8217;ll apologise and everything would be fine. Why is it so difficult?</em> She whispered, lying down on the bed and hugging a pillow.</p><p>She dialled Jay&#8217;s number. Her heart raced with every ring of the call, and after a few rings, he finally picked up.</p><p>&#8220;Hello, Dad.&#8221; She said, clutching the pillow tightly with one hand.</p><p>&#8220;Aaru? Everything okay?&#8221; He asked softly, concern evident in his voice&#8212;she had never called her at this hour, until it was an emergency. He was still at his office and hence was speaking softly.</p><p>&#8220;Yes, dad everything is alright. I just wanted to talk to you. You didn&#8217;t call me even once today. I was concerned.&#8221; She turned to the other side and hugged the pillow even more tightly.</p><p>&#8220;You only said last night that you don&#8217;t like us calling you every now and then. So, I thought I wouldn&#8217;t disturb you now. I was about to call you at night after reaching home anyway.&#8221; He explained, his voice still muffled.</p><p>&#8220;I didn&#8217;t mean it at all, Dad. It just came out of my mouth in anger. I was just so tired yesterday.&#8221; She said, trying not to let her voice choke.</p><p>&#8220;Okay, Aaru. I can understand. But still, that wasn&#8217;t the right way to talk to your mom, right? She was so hurt. You know how much she does for you, for our house, every day? This wasn&#8217;t fair to her. Okay listen. I have an important meeting right now. I will call you after reaching home. Take care.&#8221; He said hurriedly, then started talking in a normal voice to someone else&#8212;probably a coworker&#8212;and disconnected the call.</p><p>Aarna&#8217;s eyes welled up. She kept looking at the phone and thought&#8212;<em>Why is mom so overprotective? I know she loves me, but shouldn&#8217;t she understand my point too? I am not going to call her. I called dad and dad seems okay. He will tell mom. And I don&#8217;t know why the hell is it so difficult to say sorry? I can&#8217;t call mom right now</em>.</p><p>She didn&#8217;t realise when she fell asleep, but when she woke up it was already four. When she looked at the time on her phone, she sat up quickly.</p><div><hr></div><h4>What&#8217;s wrong with today? &#8212;</h4><p><em>Oh, no! I slept again. What&#8217;s happening today? I should just quickly fix my hair and run to the main gate. It would take at least twenty minutes to reach there. </em>She thought, grabbing her brush, and hurriedly started fixing her hair.</p><p>Once she was done, she took out some cash from her almirah and carefully locked it back again. <br><em>Lock the door carefully, Aarna</em>. She whispered, as she locked her room&#8217;s door.</p><p>On reaching the main gate, she saw Neel already standing there.</p><p>&#8220;Oh, god!&#8221; came out of her mouth as she checked the time on her phone.</p><p><em>It&#8217;s four-forty already! I am really late. What would I even say to him?</em> She muttered to herself and rushed to where he was standing.</p><p>&#8220;Hey, Neel. I am so sorry for being late.&#8221; she spoke to Neel, gasping for breath from her run. Neel flinched, when he heard his name being called out suddenly.</p><p>&#8220;Ohh, hey Aarna! I was just looking for you. I thought you were going to stand me out alone here. I am so glad that you came. I actually texted you, but you didn&#8217;t see it, I guess. Oh&#8212;take this!&#8221; He took out the water bottle from his backpack and handed it to her.</p><p>She looked at him adoringly and taking the bottle thought&#8212;<em>How sweet he is! Uff..</em></p><p>After taking a few sips, she handed it back saying, &#8220;Thank you so much. This was much needed. I didn&#8217;t even carry my backpack in a hurry.&#8221;</p><p>Then they both exchanged few more sentences while waiting for any &#8216;Auto&#8217; to arrive. A few minutes later, they got into an Auto and left for Central Park. They both were quiet now.</p><p><em>I don&#8217;t know what to say now. This is bit awkward. Is he also feeling the same? Or is he mad at me for being late? But then why would he offer his bottle to me? Was he just being a gentleman? I should have called him earlier and informed about me getting late. I should apologise.</em></p><p>Aarna thought and was looking outside as they rushed past trees and people walking on the sidewalk.</p><p>Meanwhile, Neel was thinking&#8212;<em>I guess, I shouldn&#8217;t bore her by talking so much. I just hope she doesn&#8217;t feel awkward. This is really awkward, though, Neel. You should say something.</em></p><p><em>Ahh..the clouds! How beautiful they are looking? That one looks like a person sitting on a chariot. Should I talk about them? I don&#8217;t know.</em></p><p>&#8220;Hey, I am sorry for being late. I didn&#8217;t realise how and when I fell asleep, and then I woke up when it was already four. I am really sorry that you had to wait. I even forgot to call you.&#8221; Aarna spoke, her eyes towards their feet.</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s totally alright Aarna. Why are you still thinking about it? I already forgot about it. See, we are together right now. It&#8217;s all okay. It doesn&#8217;t matter anymore, right? Relax.&#8221; He said looking at her and smiled.</p><p>A sudden speed bump jolted the auto. They both got disbalanced and Aarna got pushed to Neel&#8217;s side and instinctively held his arm. A wave of embarrassment ran through her. She quickly removed her hand and moved back to her side.</p><p>She tried to avoid looking at him and thought&#8212;<em>Gosh! Damn! What the hell just happened?</em></p><p>Then, stealing a glance at him secretly, she saw him looking outside smiling in a way she found mesmerizing.</p><p>His silky black hair was coming on his face due to the winds, and she thought, &#8220;God, how charming he&#8217;s looking.&#8221; A big smile blossomed onto her face too.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!0XTy!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F82590bb3-8d43-4bb5-802c-c0e501995e33_1536x1024.png" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!0XTy!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F82590bb3-8d43-4bb5-802c-c0e501995e33_1536x1024.png 424w, 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It&#8217;s cute, isn&#8217;t it? Credit goes to-ChatGPT </figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>Suddenly, Neel turned back, and their eyes met. She quickly shifted her gaze outside. They both were smiling and looking outside through their respective sides.</p><p>They reached Central Park at exactly five-twenty. The sun had become much gentle, and the golden rays were gradually fading.</p><p>&#8220;We are finally here. What should we do now? Would you like to take a walk around first, or should we go get something to eat?&#8221; He asked Aarna who was stunned looking at the grandeur of the park.</p><p>&#8220;Sorry, what did you say? This park seems so cool. I am seeing a park like this for the first time. It surely makes sense now why it is so famous around here. This is really amazing.&#8221; She spoke in excitement as she turned around and then back to front to take a full view.</p><p>Neel smiled looking at her being excited like a kid. &#8220;It&#8217;s actually very cool. This is my favourite place in this whole city, you know.</p><p>I visit here quite often with my books. I love sitting on the bench and read. Although, on holidays, like on Sundays or other leaves, lots of people come here. It gets so crowded then and doesn&#8217;t feel that peaceful. But on usual days like today, it&#8217;s a perfect place to spend your evening. Come with me. I&#8217;ll show you around.&#8221; He told her while she was still trying to get a good view of the park.</p><p>They started walking along the path that looked like it had been carved between the trees in a forest. The sound&#8212;of birds chirping, of crickets, of the fountain flowing in the middle of trees on their right, and of the laughs of children playing in the play zone on slides and swings nearby&#8212;was soothing and instantly brought back the memories of her childhood to Aarna.</p><p>She was completely lost in the view and for a moment she even forgot that she was there with Neel.</p><p>A memory from more than a decade back flashed before her eyes.</p><blockquote><p>&#8220;A little girl, around four years old, wearing a colourful shirt, blue pants and with a boy cut hair was running around a small park.</p><p>Her dad was running behind her, trying to catch her and feed the porridge her mom has prepared and packed for her from home.</p><p>She was not hungry, but to her dad, it&#8217;s been more than two hours that his kid hadn&#8217;t eaten so she must be starving and hence he must feed her. She was running in circles, and her dad was running behind her with a little tiffin and a spoon.</p><p>He would say, &#8220;Aaru, please come to daddy now. Daddy is tired, no. See, there is porridge aeroplane waiting for you. If you won&#8217;t eat, Ellie the elephant would come thumping his big feet and eat all of Aaru&#8217;s favorite porridge.</p><p>Would you want Ellie the Elephant to come here?&#8221; And then the little girl would say, &#8220;No,&#8221; and would hit the ground loudly with one foot, trying to imitate elephant&#8217;s thumping.</p><p>She would then run to her dad and her dad would put a spoonful in her mouth and after that she would start running again. Her dad repeated the same lines until she finished every bite.&#8221;</p></blockquote><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!l12e!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!l12e!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!l12e!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!l12e!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!l12e!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!l12e!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png" width="1024" height="1024" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:1024,&quot;width&quot;:1024,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:2124683,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/png&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/i/167252175?img=https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!l12e!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!l12e!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!l12e!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!l12e!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6efd6beb-e871-452f-affa-be317fe2d8b4_1024x1024.png 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Image source&#8212;ChatGPT. How is it making so cute images all of a sudden? Lol, this was fun. </figcaption></figure></div><p>Neel snapped his fingers in front of her eyes saying, &#8220;Aarna, where you got lost?&#8221;</p><p>She then came back to present and responded, &#8220;Oh, nothing. I just remembered how my dad and I would visit the neighborhood park almost every day, whenever he would get back home in holidays. I miss those days. He would come home after several months but whenever he used to come, I used to be so excited. Everything used to feel so dreamy with him. Me and my mom would wait, since the day he would leave, for his arrival.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Your dad sounds really cool. My dad stayed with us only, but we never really had this type of bond. Even today, we live together, but we don&#8217;t even see each other much.&#8221; He told her, looking away when he realized that his eyes were welling up.</p><p>&#8220;Anyways, where&#8217;s your dad now? And what about your mom?&#8221; He asked her, trying to change the subject.</p><p>She realised that Neel&#8217;s relationship with his dad wasn&#8217;t great and suddenly, she was feeling grateful for having a dad like her own, who cared so much about her and her mom.</p><p>&#8220;My dad still actually lives away from my hometown because of his regular transfers. My mom stays in our house alone. He visits home every one or two months, depending on his leaves.&#8221; She said and grew silent as they were still walking.</p><p><em>Mom still didn&#8217;t call. On normal days, she would have called me at least half a dozen time till now. But today...</em></p><p>She was thinking when he interrupted her train of thoughts.</p><p>&#8220;What happened? You look a bit sad. All okay?&#8221; He asked looking at her smile fade.</p><p>&#8220;Yes-yes. It&#8217;s nothing. Don&#8217;t worry. I am good. I think this was the bench you were talking about, right?&#8221; She said pointing towards a raised area, which was accessible through a flight of stairs.</p><p><em>Dad would have loved this place a lot</em>. She thought as they started climbing the stairs.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-912?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-912?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-912/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-912/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div><div><hr></div><p><strong>Stay tuned for the next part.</strong></p><p>Thank you so much for reading Chapter 3 of Home Between Calls. If you enjoyed reading this, and would like to support my work, you can do so here-</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;buy me a coffe/book&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>buy me a coffe/book</span></a></p><p>Your support helps keep writing and sharing these stories. Thank you for being a part of this journey. </p><div><hr></div><p>I hope you enjoyed reading this. Your feedback, views or opinion would mean a lot to me. Do let me know how you liked it and if you would like to share a similar story or an experience, I am all ears. </p><p>Ps- I loved the images used in this story. ChatGPT did a really great job at creating those cute covers. I loved them so much. XD</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-912/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-912/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><p>Thank you so much for reading, </p><p>Until Next Time, </p><p>Take Care and Enjoy the monsoon if it&#8217;s raining in your city too. </p><p>Seeya soon in the next one, </p><p>Yours, </p><p>Ameliorating A. </p><p></p><p></p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Home Between Calls]]></title><description><![CDATA[Chapter 2 - Between Worry and Wings]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-f5a</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-f5a</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Thu, 26 Jun 2025 15:34:50 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1568450902879-3b3ffb882ecb?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx3aW5kb3clMjBsb29raW5nJTIwb3V0JTIwdG8lMjBuaWdodCUyMHNreSUyMGFuZCUyMGNpdHl8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwOTUxNTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>You can checkout Part-1 here-</strong> <a href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/home-between-calls?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false">Chapter 1 - Jay's Worlds</a></p><div class="pullquote"><p><em><strong>Disclaimer- </strong>This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.</em></p></div><p>It had been three years since her nineteenth birthday and much had changed since then.</p><p>Aarna had moved to another city and had begun college. Jay had also transferred to a new workplace closer to their home. Siya was living alone in the same house that she had shared with Aarna before she moved out.</p><p> Jay visited home more often now that his workplace was closer. Still, their lives had changed drastically over time.</p><div><hr></div><h4>A glimpse of a random day of their lives&#8212;</h4><p>&#8220;Did you wake up, Aaru? Don&#8217;t forget to have breakfast before leaving. No matter how little time you have, eat something before leaving&#8212;otherwise, you&#8217;ll feel lethargic the whole day.&#8221; Jay spoke to Aarna on the phone at six in the morning. It was their ritual, where his call would act as a wake-up call for Aarna to get ready for college.</p><p>Aarna, who was still in deep sleep, said, &#8220;Yes Dad. I promise I will wake up in five minutes.&#8221; And when her voice trailed off and she stopped speaking, Jay would understand that she was still asleep and would disconnect the call himself.</p><p>&#8220;Are you still sleeping, Aaru? Dad called you an hour ago. When are you going to get ready? Wake up now.&#8221; Siya would call around seven, an hour after Jay&#8217;s call, knowing Aarna must be asleep despite being late for her college, which started at eight.</p><p>&#8220;I am up now, Mom. Everything is good there, right? I am going to get ready. I am already pretty late.&#8221; Aarna would say the exact same line every day and sit up on her bed with a jerk, upon listening to her mom&#8217;s stern voice over the phone.</p><p>&#8220;Yes, everything is alright here. Get ready and call me after you&#8217;re back to your hostel room from college, okay? Go now.&#8221; Siya would say disconnecting the call, knowing that Aarna must be fully awake and would be getting ready.</p><p>Siya and Jay would then call each other and talk for a few minutes before Jay left for work. Siya would then resume her day and the daily chores.</p><p>Aarna&#8217;s college would start at eight and she would get her first hour-long break at eleven. During this period, she would either go to the college library to explore the books and novels of her interest, or she would be in the college cafeteria with her group of friends.</p><p>On some days, they just sat there and talked among themselves while enjoying different foods like Bhel, Dosa, Chaat, Sandwich and more. On some other days, they would step outside the campus to explore different places in the city that felt so new and exotic to them.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1743615467363-250466982515?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8aW5kaWFuJTIwc25hY2tzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MDk1MTgxOHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1743615467363-250466982515?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8aW5kaWFuJTIwc25hY2tzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MDk1MTgxOHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1743615467363-250466982515?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8aW5kaWFuJTIwc25hY2tzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MDk1MTgxOHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1743615467363-250466982515?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8aW5kaWFuJTIwc25hY2tzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MDk1MTgxOHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1743615467363-250466982515?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8aW5kaWFuJTIwc25hY2tzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MDk1MTgxOHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1743615467363-250466982515?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8aW5kaWFuJTIwc25hY2tzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MDk1MTgxOHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="7570" height="5787" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1743615467363-250466982515?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8aW5kaWFuJTIwc25hY2tzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MDk1MTgxOHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:5787,&quot;width&quot;:7570,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;A dosa is served with three dipping sauces.&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="A dosa is served with three dipping sauces." title="A dosa is served with three dipping sauces." srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1743615467363-250466982515?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8aW5kaWFuJTIwc25hY2tzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MDk1MTgxOHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1743615467363-250466982515?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8aW5kaWFuJTIwc25hY2tzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MDk1MTgxOHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1743615467363-250466982515?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8aW5kaWFuJTIwc25hY2tzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MDk1MTgxOHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1743615467363-250466982515?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8aW5kaWFuJTIwc25hY2tzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc1MDk1MTgxOHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Zoshua Colah</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>At times when they couldn&#8217;t make it back to the campus on time after their little outings, they simply bunked the remaining classes, not caring about the good scolding they would receive from their teachers the next day.</p><p>Aarna&#8217;s parents, especially Siya, were concerned about Aarna the most.</p><div><hr></div><h4>Please stop worrying about me&#8212;</h4><p>&#8220;Aaru, are you back to your room from college? How was the day, baby? Did you have lunch?&#8221; Siya asked Aarna, as soon as she picked up the phone, after having called her for the third time in a row.</p><p>&#8220;Mamma! I am out with my friends. Why are you calling again and again? I will call you once I reach the hostel.&#8221; Aarna said with her brows furrowed.</p><p>&#8220;Why are you out currently, Aaru? You must be tired from attending college, no? You should be in your room and taking a nap right now. How would you study in the evening? Your exams are pretty close, right?&#8221; Siya asked unaware of the fact that this routine was part of Aarna&#8217;s and her friends&#8217; daily schedule.</p><p>&#8220;Mamma! Please stop worrying about me so much. I am fine. I will study at night. Don&#8217;t worry. Take care. Bye.&#8221; Aarna said, disconnecting the call as her friend dragged her for a picture.</p><p>Siya sat there looking at her phone&#8217;s screen. Her eyes welled up thinking about the time when Aarna would come back from school and would be so tired that she would sleep directly, sometimes even without having lunch.</p><p>Siya looked around her house. A sudden sense of Jay&#8217;s and Aarna&#8217;s absence made her heart heavy. She dialed Jay&#8217;s number, but he didn&#8217;t pick up. She understood that he might be busy and hence she didn&#8217;t try again. She scrolled through her contacts, but after a minute turned off the phone and tossed it on the sofa beside her.</p><p>She walked towards the front door and thought, &#8220;I can&#8217;t be in here all by myself right now. I will go meet Ms. Lata. She invited me for tea a long time ago anyway.&#8221;</p><p>She locked the door from outside and went to Ms. Lata&#8217;s house situated at the end of the street.</p><p>Aarna was back to her hostel room and was sleeping. Meanwhile, both Jay and Siya had called her several times, worried because she had not called them after reaching her hostel room, as she usually did.</p><p>&#8220;Jay, Aaru is not picking up my call either. She was out with her friends when I last talked to her, but it&#8217;s been several hours since that. I think we should call the hostel warden now and ask about her. My heart is racing, Jay.</p><p>Please do something. I just wish everything is alright there.&#8221; Siya said to Jay over the phone who then called the hostel warden.</p><p>The reason Aarna was not picking up their calls was because her phone was on silent mode.</p><p>The morning hours of the classes, the time spent roaming around the whole college campus just to explore different blocks in the afternoon and then going to the cinema to watch the new film with her friends, especially her new friend Neel, made her so tired that she just changed into comfy clothes and slept. She didn&#8217;t even have dinner and forgot calling her parents.</p><p>Siya was calling Aarna repeatedly when she was at the theatre. She didn&#8217;t want to interrupt the movie or ruin the moment with Neel, so she put the phone on silent thinking she would call her mom back later.</p><p>But after the movies, they went to a nearby cafe to hang out a little longer. In all this, she forgot about her mom&#8217;s call completely and about the fact that she didn&#8217;t let either of her parents know about where she was&#8212;or how concerned they must be.</p><p>Aarna woke up with a jerk on hearing the knock on the door. It was her hostel warden.</p><p>&#8220;Yes sir, she is here. Let me hand over the phone to her.&#8221; the warden said to the person on the phone and handed it to Aarna.</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s your dad.&#8221; the warden said, handing the phone to Aarna with an angry look.</p><p>Aarna, who was still half asleep, didn&#8217;t fully understand what was happening.</p><p>&#8220;Dad? What happened? Why did you call Warden Ma&#8217;am at this time?&#8221; She asked Jay, finally realizing the entire situation.</p><p>&#8220;Oh, okay dad. Let me call you with my phone in a minute.&#8221; she said, disconnecting the call and handing over the phone back to the warden.</p><p>&#8220;Thank you so much ma&#8217;am. And sorry for all the trouble. Thank you again,&#8221; she said to the warden who replied with, &#8220;Okay-okay. Be careful next time. I will complain to your parents if something like this happens again,&#8221; and walked away.</p><p>Aarna realized her mistake and jumped at her phone quickly. When she opened it, there were twenty-one missed calls from Siya and fifteen from Jay.</p><p><em>Aaru, you&#8217;re done today. How did I forget to call mom back? She must have overthought a lot and dad must be so concerned too. What would I even say now? Forget it. Let me call them first</em>. She thought, and called Siya.</p><p>&#8220;Mom, hold on a sec please.&#8221; she said, and called Jay too, so that she could talk to both of them together.</p><p>&#8220;Mom, Dad&#8217;s also on the line. I am so sorry Mom and Dad. I put my phone on silent and then I slept after coming back to my room. I totally forgot to call you. I am really sorry.&#8221; Aarna spoke over the phone and fearing their reactions, she squeezed her eyes shut.</p><p>&#8220;Aaru, how could you forget to call us, huh? You know how worried we were? I was thinking what tragedy must have happened that you didn&#8217;t call us.&#8221; Siya said sharply.</p><p>&#8220;Also, where were you all this time, huh? The warden told me that you entered the hostel at seven. The college ends at three, and even if you were out with friends, what took you so long?</p><p>And you didn&#8217;t even think for once about how worried your mom would be? I am here, you are there, and your mom has been living all alone. Don&#8217;t you know how worried she gets even when I get a bit late to call sometimes?</p><p>Your mom and dad exist too, Aaru. You don&#8217;t forget your parents just because you&#8217;re with your friends. This is so not done, Aaru.&#8221; Jay added sharply.</p><p>Aarna was listening, but after hearing Jay&#8217;s sharp words, she clenched her fist and shut the still-open door tightly with the other hand.</p><p>&#8220;Why do you guys always keep nagging, huh? Why do you both have to worry so much? I told Mom that I was with my friends. Wasn&#8217;t that enough information?</p><p>I am not a kid you both have to keep worrying would get lost or hurt. I am twenty-three for God&#8217;s sake Dad. Why don&#8217;t both of you get it?</p><p>Mom didn&#8217;t allow me to go anywhere with my friends when I was at home. And now I can&#8217;t even hang out with my friends here too? I really hate both of you nagging at me so much.</p><p>I am an adult. Why do I have to call you every time I go outside or come back to my room. I would have called at night myself, but no, you both couldn&#8217;t resist my freedom and hence you called Warden ma&#8217;am.</p><p>Now, she would keep an even stricter watch on me. Why you guys always keep ruining things for me? I will do whatever I want. I will go wherever I want. I will meet my friends, and I will even go on a date sometime. It shouldn&#8217;t concern you guys at all.</p><p>I don&#8217;t want both of you to keep interfering with my life.&#8221; Aarna spoke while angrily walking round and round in her room. She even threw a pillow at the wall once.</p><p>&#8220;Okay, so now we are bad, right? It&#8217;s okay Aaru, do whatever you want. You won&#8217;t understand our feelings right now, but time will let you know. Have your dinner before sleeping.&#8221; Siya said, her voice choking as she disconnected the call.</p><p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t worry Aaru. We won&#8217;t trouble you anymore. Take care.&#8221; Jay sighed, rubbing his forehead&#8212;disappointment clearly audible in his voice&#8212;as he disconnected the call too.</p><h4>The aftermath&#8212;</h4><p>Aarna angrily tossed the phone aside and sat on the edge of the bed.</p><p>&#8220;Aaru, come on let&#8217;s go for dinner.&#8221; Her floormate called her from outside.</p><p>&#8220;I am not hungry today. You go,&#8221; she shouted and lay down on the bed.</p><p>&#8220;Aargh!&#8221; she screamed, covering her face with a pillow.</p><p>On the other hand, Jay called Siya after a few minutes.</p><p>&#8220;Hey, are you okay? She&#8217;s just a kid, Siya. She said all that in anger. I know she didn&#8217;t mean it. Let it go now.&#8221; Jay added and heaved a sigh.</p><p>&#8220;How can I be okay, Jay? Didn&#8217;t you hear all that she said? We ruin things for her? I ruined her life? And a date? Now she would go on dates?</p><p>She was going on dates all this time? How are you okay with it, Jay? I don&#8217;t know where I went wrong with her.&#8221; Siya muttered, her voice still choking, as she wiped her tears with the loose end of her dupatta.</p><p>Jay stayed silent, his eyes fixed on the photograph of little Aarna, Siya and him on his desk.</p><p>&#8220;What should I even say to her now? I don&#8217;t know how to react to Aaru&#8217;s behaviour myself.&#8221; He said standing up, and walking over to the window that looked out at the city and the night sky.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1568450902879-3b3ffb882ecb?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx3aW5kb3clMjBsb29raW5nJTIwb3V0JTIwdG8lMjBuaWdodCUyMHNreSUyMGFuZCUyMGNpdHl8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwOTUxNTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1568450902879-3b3ffb882ecb?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx3aW5kb3clMjBsb29raW5nJTIwb3V0JTIwdG8lMjBuaWdodCUyMHNreSUyMGFuZCUyMGNpdHl8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwOTUxNTEzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Renat Yusif</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>Siya was also silent. Words were not coming out of her mouth, tears were the only thing she owned at this moment.</p><p>&#8220;Siya, you&#8217;re crying, right? Please don&#8217;t cry, love. I wish I could be there right now, but you also know it&#8217;s not possible. I will take a few day offs by the weekend and come home. Don&#8217;t worry about anything, love. Everything will be fine,&#8221; Jay said, trying to comfort her.</p><p>Siya still couldn&#8217;t say anything. They both stayed silent for a while.</p><p>&#8220;How much I wish for you to be here, Jay. I really miss you a lot. Aaru has changed. I don&#8217;t know what happened to my little Aaru who would always share everything with me, who wouldn&#8217;t sleep until I kissed her goodnight.</p><p>What happened to that Aaru, Jay? Now, it bothers her if I ask her whether she had dinner or got back to her room safely? I just don&#8217;t understand anymore, Jay. I just really miss you so much.&#8221; Siya vented, tears still streaming down her cheeks.</p><p>&#8220;I miss you so much too, dear. If you say, I will take two days leave tomorrow. Just please calm down, Siya. I can&#8217;t bear your tears. I will call Aaru right now and ask her to apologise to you. She can&#8217;t talk that way.&#8221; Jay said, trying to comfort Siya&#8212;and himself too.</p><p>Siya stood up from the chair and went to the kitchen. &#8220;No, Jay, promise me that you won&#8217;t be calling her. Didn&#8217;t you hear what she said? It bothers her when we call her. It&#8217;s okay, let&#8217;s not call her now. She is an adult after all. She doesn&#8217;t need us to take care of her.&#8221; She told Jay firmly and poured herself a glass of cold water from the fridge.</p><p>&#8220;What are you saying, love? We are her parents. We will take care of her always.</p><p>And I bet you&#8212;you will be the first one to call her tomorrow. I won&#8217;t, but I know you will.&#8221; Jay said, moving back to his desk.</p><p>&#8220;I won&#8217;t Jay. I am done. What haven&#8217;t we done for her? Only for her, you and I have been living apart for so many years, right?</p><p>Didn&#8217;t she even see that? Leave it, Jay. You must be tired too. Have dinner and sleep. I will also eat something and go to bed,&#8221; she said, putting down the glass down loudly in the sink.</p><p>&#8220;You eat too. I will make something quick&#8212;maybe oats. I have got an early meeting tomorrow. Let&#8217;s talk more later, okay? And please, no more tears, love. &#8216;Siya, I hate tears.&#8217; You know that right?&#8221; he said, faking a laugh.</p><p>&#8220;Oh please, Jay. I know you are faking. Stop it now. Good night. I love you, Mr. Husband.&#8221; she spoke softly, and a little smile blossomed on her face.</p><p>&#8220;Oh, dear lord. How could I handle this pain of the bullet that this beautiful woman shot at my heart? Uff.. I am dead.&#8221; he put his hand over his heart and spoke dramatically after listening to Siya&#8217;s voice softening.</p><p>&#8220;Shut up Mr. Drama King. Good night.&#8221; she exclaimed while the smile on her face widened.</p><p>&#8220;As you say my lord. Everything will be fine, my love. Why fear, when your hero Jay is here? Okay, before you shush me again&#8212;good night, Queen of my heart. Love you, Siya.&#8221; He said chuckling and waited for her to disconnect the call.</p><p>She chuckled too listening to him and finally spoke smiling, &#8220;Oh, lord. How much drama one can do, huh? Seeya. Take care.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Take care, love.&#8221; He whispered softly and disconnected the call. His gaze was still at the photo frame on the desk. He heaved a sigh and went to the window again.</p><p><em>Thank God Siya calmed down. I know she must be very hurt. I will talk to Aaru tomorrow in the evening. I just hope everything stays fine until then</em>. </p><p>His eyes stayed fixed on the sky, as if he were speaking to it, and not just himself.</p><p>Jay went to bed that night without having dinner, and so did Siya. The day had indeed been very tiring for all three of them.</p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div><div><hr></div><p><strong>Thank you so much for reading Chapter 2 of</strong><em><strong> Home Between Calls</strong></em><strong>.  Stay tuned for further parts. </strong></p><p>I hope you really enjoyed reading it. If the story resonated with you, or if you have any thoughts, feedback, or personal experiences that you would like to share, I am all ears. Please do let me know about you in the comments. Your words always mean a lot. </p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-f5a?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-f5a?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-f5a/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls-f5a/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/?utm_source=substack&amp;utm_medium=email&amp;utm_content=share&amp;action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/?utm_source=substack&amp;utm_medium=email&amp;utm_content=share&amp;action=share"><span>Share HEARTSTRINGS</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p>If you would like to support my work and help me continue writing more stories like this, you can do so here:</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;buy me a coffee&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>buy me a coffee</span></a></p><p> Every bit of your contribution encourages me to keep going. Thank you truly for being here. </p><div><hr></div><p>Well, if you made it till here&#8212;Thank you soo much for being here. It really means a lot to me. </p><p>Until Next Time, </p><p>Stay safe and don&#8217;t forget to take breaks and relax in between. </p><p>Thank you, </p><p>Seeya soon in another one. </p><p>Love, </p><p>Me :)</p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Home Between Calls]]></title><description><![CDATA[Chapter 1: Jay's and Siya&#8217;s World]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 24 Jun 2025 10:51:15 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1604807788279-ea778c075cee?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzN3x8bW90aGVyJTIwYW5kJTIwbmV3JTIwYm9ybiUyMGluJTIwYSUyMGNyaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwNzYxNDcwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="pullquote"><p><em><strong>Disclaimer- </strong>This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.</em></p></div><h2>A Name for &#8216;The World&#8217;-</h2><p>&#8220;I am still confused about what to name her. Where&#8217;s that list of names that we have decided on earlier? The one with the boy&#8217;s and girl&#8217;s names?&#8221; A woman with a weary face and dry lips, slightly curved in a smile, asked the man sitting next to her.</p><p>She was in light-blue hospital gown, lying on the hospital bed. Her body was covered in white sheets up to her chest, and a urine bag hung beside the bed.</p><p>The man was holding an infant in his arms, exactly as the nurse had instructed and demonstrated to him&#8212;with one hand supporting his infant&#8217;s tiny head and the other one cradling her body, which was only a little longer than his palm.</p><p>At one moment he would hold her closer to his chest, and at another, he would very carefully move his hands slightly away to get a good look of her face.</p><p>His moist eyes twinkled as he was looking at his baby&#8217;s tiny eyes, which she opened for the very first time. She had been asleep in his lap for several minutes.</p><p>He delicately moved her closer to his face, his hands trembling. Then he moved her back to his chest again. &#8220;You know, I feel like she would crumble if I held her too tightly, and I am afraid of her slipping from my hands if I hold her too softly. How delicate she is, Siya!&#8221; He said, smiling ear to ear, to the woman lying on the bed, his wife.</p><p>He gently placed the baby in the crib beside her mother&#8217;s bed and moved closer to Siya.</p><p>He turned his gaze from the crib to Siya&#8217;s eyes, and looking at her lovingly he said, &#8220;Her eyes look exactly like yours, darling. Just so deep and containing worlds inside them! I know what to name her, love. She is a precious little part of you dear,&#8221; his voice trailed as his eyes welled up again.</p><p>For a moment he was silent and after a small pause, he moved closer to Siya&#8217;s face and said, &#8220;I can&#8217;t tell you how thankful I am to you for making me complete&#8212;back then and now for making our world whole by gifting me the most precious thing I could ever imagine.&#8221;</p><p>He held Siya&#8217;s cold hand, and, pressing it gently, he said, &#8220;I think we should name her &#8216;<strong>Aarna</strong>&#8217;, meaning ocean, for she is really the one who is filling our lives with so much love and happiness already.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s perfect!&#8221; She exclaimed, her weary face lit up and a rosy glow appeared on her cheeks.</p><p>&#8220;I know your love for &#8216;the ocean&#8217;, and I know you&#8217;ll love our daughter too, so much, Jay.&#8221; She said and tried to move to sit on the bed. Jay put his hand on her shoulders and stopped her.</p><p>&#8220;You shouldn&#8217;t be moving right now. The stitches would hurt. You just came out of a C-section, darling. You need to rest fully for a few days now. I&#8217;ll take care of everything else.&#8221; He said and gently kissed her forehead.</p><p>She looked towards the crib and asked him to bring it closer to her.</p><p>He did as she said.</p><p>Finally, looking at the crib and holding Jay&#8217;s hand she whispered &#8220;Aarna,&#8221; and said, &#8220;My love for both of you is as deep as you had named her. I love both of you so much, Jay.&#8221; A smile blossomed, bringing a warm glow to both their faces.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1604807788279-ea778c075cee?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzN3x8bW90aGVyJTIwYW5kJTIwbmV3JTIwYm9ybiUyMGluJTIwYSUyMGNyaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwNzYxNDcwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1604807788279-ea778c075cee?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzN3x8bW90aGVyJTIwYW5kJTIwbmV3JTIwYm9ybiUyMGluJTIwYSUyMGNyaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwNzYxNDcwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1604807788279-ea778c075cee?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzN3x8bW90aGVyJTIwYW5kJTIwbmV3JTIwYm9ybiUyMGluJTIwYSUyMGNyaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwNzYxNDcwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="5456" height="3632" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1604807788279-ea778c075cee?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzN3x8bW90aGVyJTIwYW5kJTIwbmV3JTIwYm9ybiUyMGluJTIwYSUyMGNyaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwNzYxNDcwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:3632,&quot;width&quot;:5456,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;baby in white knit cap&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="baby in white knit cap" title="baby in white knit cap" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1604807788279-ea778c075cee?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzN3x8bW90aGVyJTIwYW5kJTIwbmV3JTIwYm9ybiUyMGluJTIwYSUyMGNyaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwNzYxNDcwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1604807788279-ea778c075cee?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzN3x8bW90aGVyJTIwYW5kJTIwbmV3JTIwYm9ybiUyMGluJTIwYSUyMGNyaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwNzYxNDcwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1604807788279-ea778c075cee?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzN3x8bW90aGVyJTIwYW5kJTIwbmV3JTIwYm9ybiUyMGluJTIwYSUyMGNyaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwNzYxNDcwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1604807788279-ea778c075cee?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwzN3x8bW90aGVyJTIwYW5kJTIwbmV3JTIwYm9ybiUyMGluJTIwYSUyMGNyaWJ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzUwNzYxNDcwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Gabriel Tovar</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr></div><p>Several years passed in a blink. The once small Aarna, tiny enough for Jay to worry that she would slip through his fingers, had grown almost as tall as him. She was turning nineteen on this day.</p><h2>Aarna&#8217;s Nineteenth Birthday-</h2><p>It was Aarna&#8217;s birthday. Jay couldn&#8217;t make it home from his workplace in a different city. Siya is busy doing preparations for the special pooja (special prayer) for the special occasion.</p><p>Siya recalled how the whole house felt so empty the day Jay left for work, in a different city, when Aarna was just three years old. He didn&#8217;t want to leave Siya alone to raise Aarna on her own. But having no other choice, because of the unsuitable environment for raising a kid there, the unpredictable nature of his job and frequent transfers, he had to go alone.</p><p>It had been Aarna and Siya only since then. Jay would come back home on holidays, but they never sufficed.</p><p>Five-day leave, fifteen-day leave, even thirty-day leave would feel like a day amidst all the household work&#8212;getting the fan in the other room repaired, finding a guy to service the AC, getting that leaking kitchen tap repaired by finding a plumber, going to a faraway tax center to pay the house tax etc.&#8212;that Siya couldn&#8217;t handle alone while taking care of Aarna. She would leave this for him&#8212;waiting for him to arrive and get it done.</p><p>&#8220;Aaru&#8212;her parents lovingly called Aarna-<em>Aaru</em>&#8212;what are you doing there? Go quickly take a shower and come sit with me for praying. It is your birthday after all, and prayer is a must today you know.&#8221; Siya called out Aarna from the kitchen where she was preparing Kheer (Indian rice pudding) for &#8216;the bhog&#8217; (offering to God).</p><p>It had been their tradition to prepare Kheer on Aarna&#8217;s every birthday ever since her third birthday when she ate the entire bowl of Kheer in a single go, even before <em>the bhog</em> could take place. </p><p>Siya and Jay both had a hearty laughter at the sight of her tiny face and hands covered in kheer and her playing in the mess she created that day. It was the last birthday of her where all three of them were together.</p><p>Siya looked at her phone lying on the kitchen&#8217;s countertop. She tapped it and the picture of herself and Jay holding little Aarna together appeared on the lock screen. She kept looking at it until the screen turned off itself and the sudden sense of Jay&#8217;s absence made her heart sink and clouded her vision.</p><p>She turned off the stove and stopped stirring the pot of Kheer she was preparing and dialed a number.</p><p>&#8220;Hello my love. What&#8217;s going on there? You know, I just picked up the phone to call you and then you called. How&#8217;s the preparations going? Buy the cake for her from that bakery in the evening, no! No matter what she says, you must get it okay?&#8221; A voice from the other side of the phone spoke.</p><p>&#8220;Oh Mr. Jay! Can you even catch a breath? You said all that in a single breath. What&#8217;s the rush, Aaru&#8217;s dad?&#8221; Siya said giggling.</p><p>&#8220;So, I can&#8217;t be excited about my Aaru&#8217;s birthday even, huh??&#8221; Jay chuckled.</p><p>&#8220;Haha, you&#8217;re excited for her birthday even more than herself. But Jay...&#8221; Siya&#8217;s voice trailed, and she paused to hide her choking voice from him.</p><p>&#8220;Is everything alright dear? Did something happen? Everything is okay, no?&#8221; He asked concerningly on her sudden pause.</p><p>&#8220;Yes-yes. Everything is perfectly alright here. I just miss you so much, Jay. I was preparing Kheer you know.&#8221; She confessed and paused, trying to control her emotions from appearing in her voice, but tears started flowing down her cheeks.</p><p>&#8220;I miss both of you so much too, love.&#8221; He said, and picture of Aarna&#8217;s third birthday, and all of them being together, appeared before his mind and his eyes welled up too.</p><p>Neither of them could say anything for a while and just stayed silent. They both were familiar with this silence. It has become a kind of invisible hug to both of them in the years passed. They both knew that the person on the other side of the screen was crying, but they were helpless.</p><p>Finally, Siya took the loose end of her saree and wiped her tears. With an attempt to hide her choking voice, she said, &#8220;It&#8217;s okay Jay. We know that you&#8217;re trying to save your leaves so that you can take a long vacation by the end of the month. Like the past four months passed, the upcoming few days would pass soon too. You just take care of yourself till then and do order something nice for yourself today. We wouldn&#8217;t like having Kheer and other delicacies all by ourselves without you. So please do order either &#8216;Kheer&#8217; or your favourite <em>Chole Bhature </em>(Indian dish) today.&#8221;</p><p>Jay could no longer contain himself. The barrier of tears broke, and he was wiping his face with a handkerchief too.</p><p>When he couldn&#8217;t say anything in reply to Siya&#8217;s request, she again said, &#8220;Jay? Are you there? I know you&#8217;re crying. Please don&#8217;t Jay. It&#8217;s Aaru&#8217;s birthday today. We should be celebrating it with joy and not with tears, right?&#8221;</p><p>The tears still were not stopping but he tried to control himself and finally said, &#8220;Yes, my love. You&#8217;re right. You wipe your tears too please. I can&#8217;t bear your tears.&#8221;</p><p>Siya wiped her face again and with her eyes still red she said, &#8220;I am not crying anymore. You stop too and get ready for work, otherwise you&#8217;d be late.</p><p>It&#8217;s all for this job that we are living in such a way. If it wasn&#8217;t necessary, we would have never stayed apart, right? So, focus well on it, Jay. I&#8217;ll handle everything here. It&#8217;s because of your job only that we are living so comfortably and educate Aaru in such a good school. We should be grateful for it.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Yes, my love. Everything with this job is great except it&#8217;s constant transfers. I would have never left you and Aaru alone otherwise. I&#8217;ll go get ready. You take care of yourself and Aaru.</p><p>I had already called her in the morning. She was still sleepy but hey, I wished her &#8216;Happy Birthday&#8217; first again, like every year. You lost.&#8221; He said and chuckled, trying to make Siya smile too.</p><p>A smile blossomed on Siya&#8217;s face, and she said, &#8220;I can never beat you at this, huh? Yeah, she told me that you called her at five in the morning. Okay, then. I should go too. I still have lot to do. You take care and send me the picture of your special lunch. Don&#8217;t you dare not order it. Love you, Aaru&#8217;s papa.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Love you too, my dearest Aaru&#8217;s mom. I&#8217;ll call again in the evening. Take care of both my precious worlds, okay? See you soon.&#8221; He said on the phone, looking lovingly at Aarna&#8217;s and Siya's picture at his desk.</p><p>&#8220;See you, Jay. Talk to you in the evening.&#8221; She said and they both waited for each other to cut the call.</p><p>When they both didn&#8217;t disconnect first, Jay said, &#8220;I am disconnecting okay? Otherwise, we both would be on this call the whole day.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Yeahh.&#8221; She said chuckling and the call disconnected.</p><div><hr></div><h2>Traditions and Tensions-</h2><p>&#8220;Aaru? What are you doing there, huh? You were eavesdropping our conversation?&#8221; Siya asked gently on sensing someone presence behind the kitchen door.</p><p>Aarna, wearing a purple coloured t-shirt with sunflower print, paired with a wide-bottomed navy coloured trousers, with her mid-length short hair barely reaching her shoulders, having Siya&#8217;s eyes and Jay&#8217;s facial features, appeared in front of Siya, with a smile which resembled both Jay&#8217;s and Siya&#8217;s smile together.</p><p>Making her voice cuter and pulling her mom&#8217;s cheeks she said, &#8220;I was just coming to you, and then I stopped, seeing you talking to dad with red eyes. You miss him too much, no? I know you do.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;So? Now, I can&#8217;t even miss your dad, huh, miss? And what&#8217;s this? Why are you wearing a t-shirt and trouser Aaru? You need to sit in a pooja, right? At least wear something with a scarf to cover your head baby.&#8221; Siya said seeing Aaru&#8217;s outfit.</p><p>&#8220;Mamma! Please! I don&#8217;t like doing pooja and wearing a kurta with a dupatta (Indian scarf). It&#8217;s too much work to be done on a birthday, Mom. I have already told that I don&#8217;t like to celebrate my birthday working around the house, organizing everything for a pooja and then distributing prasad in the whole colony. And you know how much I hate the mess after it?</p><p>I don&#8217;t like it at all. It&#8217;s so tiring. Let&#8217;s please not do it this year.&#8221; Aarna pleaded her mom and folded her hands in pretense.</p><p>&#8220;Aaru, I won&#8217;t be talking to you if you would say any other word about the pooja. It is such an auspicious ritual and it&#8217;s for your own good. You&#8217;re really crazy. Don&#8217;t make me scold you even today. If you don&#8217;t like pooja, then fine, don&#8217;t do it, but don&#8217;t try to stop me from doing it too. I believe in my god. He is the one with whose blessing we are healthy and happy. You can do whatever you want, but don&#8217;t stop me.&#8221; Siya said in a sharp tone without looking at Aarna and started taking out Kheer in a small bowl for &#8216;the bhog&#8217; (offering to God).</p><p>&#8220;Yeah. Thank you. I will be in my room and reading a book. But don&#8217;t yell at me later on then. You don&#8217;t even let me go out with friends to celebrate. It&#8217;s my birthday mamma; shouldn&#8217;t it go according to me for a single day?&#8221; Aarna spoke; her forehead furrowed with lines.</p><p>&#8220;And please know that I would still be going out in the noon to meet Barkha. I will be back by five in the evening. I would be going out even if you deny. You never let me do anything of my choice. I can&#8217;t keep looking like a bad friend anymore because you don&#8217;t allow me to go anywhere with anyone.&#8221; Aarna said and stormed off the kitchen and shut the door of her room, without even waiting to see her mom&#8217;s reaction.</p><p><em>I know her too well. She would definitely refuse to let me go out. I know it&#8217;s a special day and we have our own tradition of cutting the cake together, every year. But what&#8217;s with all this controlling thing? I know she wants the best for me and tries to protect me and even more since Dad&#8217;s not here.</em></p><p><em>But shouldn&#8217;t she also understand that I am a grown up now and that I have my own choices? I can&#8217;t wait to get into college,</em> she thought to herself, angrily tossed the phone on the bed and lay down with a book &#8216;To Kill a Mockingbird' which she currently had been reading.</p><p>Siya in the kitchen was just stunned at what Aarna just said. She was staring at the kitchen door through which Aarna just stormed off and thoughts kept swirling in her mind.</p><p><em>This girl. I can&#8217;t believe her. No matter what we do, we would always be bad parents in her eyes. What should I do huh? Let her go everywhere all alone? What if something happens to her? Jay is also not here. How would I handle everything?</em></p><p><em>And she doesn&#8217;t understand how hard it is to manage everything all alone since so many years in her father&#8217;s absence. How many times did I tell her this but no she still doesn&#8217;t understand. Kids these days. I won&#8217;t say anything now. She can do whatever she wants. I will just buy that cake as Jay asked and rest it&#8217;s up to her if she wants to celebrate with me or not. Barkha is more important than me now. Okay. I won&#8217;t say anything.</em></p><p>She continued with her work then and started gathering all the items for pooja.</p><p>An hour passed like that, and Aarna was still reading in her room.</p><div><hr></div><h2>Pooja is over&#8212;Kheer is all mine now!</h2><p>The fragrance of incense sticks and the fragrant smoke of <em>hawan </em>(a ritual involving lighting a small fire for prayer) was covering the whole house and Aarna&#8217;s room too. She was lost in the book and became conscious of the fragrance only after a few minutes, when her mom started singing <em>Aarti </em>(a devotional song)<em> </em>and the sound of the bell reached her ears.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1623225692725-e73a4a00b311?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8aW5kaWFuJTIwZmlyZSUyMHByYXllcnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTA3NjE4MTF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1623225692725-e73a4a00b311?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8aW5kaWFuJTIwZmlyZSUyMHByYXllcnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTA3NjE4MTF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1623225692725-e73a4a00b311?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8aW5kaWFuJTIwZmlyZSUyMHByYXllcnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTA3NjE4MTF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1623225692725-e73a4a00b311?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8aW5kaWFuJTIwZmlyZSUyMHByYXllcnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTA3NjE4MTF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1623225692725-e73a4a00b311?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8aW5kaWFuJTIwZmlyZSUyMHByYXllcnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTA3NjE4MTF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1623225692725-e73a4a00b311?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8aW5kaWFuJTIwZmlyZSUyMHByYXllcnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTA3NjE4MTF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="3344" height="4180" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1623225692725-e73a4a00b311?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8aW5kaWFuJTIwZmlyZSUyMHByYXllcnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTA3NjE4MTF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:4180,&quot;width&quot;:3344,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;a person holding a bowl of food over a fire&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="a person holding a bowl of food over a fire" title="a person holding a bowl of food over a fire" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1623225692725-e73a4a00b311?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8aW5kaWFuJTIwZmlyZSUyMHByYXllcnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTA3NjE4MTF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1623225692725-e73a4a00b311?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8aW5kaWFuJTIwZmlyZSUyMHByYXllcnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTA3NjE4MTF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1623225692725-e73a4a00b311?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8aW5kaWFuJTIwZmlyZSUyMHByYXllcnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTA3NjE4MTF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1623225692725-e73a4a00b311?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxMnx8aW5kaWFuJTIwZmlyZSUyMHByYXllcnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NTA3NjE4MTF8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Geetanjali Hatle</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>She sat up with a jerk and looking at the time on her phone, she realised that the pooja must be on its final stages now.</p><p><em>What the hell did I do? Oh god. I missed the entire pooja. I didn&#8217;t want to miss it. I just said those things casually. I didn&#8217;t mean it. Mom must be so hurt and angry with me. I should go right now. I shouldn&#8217;t have said all those things to her.</em></p><p><em>She had been so excited about today since days and pooja matters so much to her. And damn it! I even forgot to click pooja and prasad&#8217;s (offering to God, distributed among everyone after prayer) pictures for sending it to dad. Run Aaru, run, </em>she thought and quickly jumped off the bed with her phone.</p><p>On entering the pooja room, she saw that her mother was done with the aarti and was collecting all the fruits in a big plate for the distribution. Just as Siya was about to pick up the bowl of Kheer, Aarna reached out and picked it up.</p><p>She playfully said, &#8220;No-no. This bowl is all mine. You can&#8217;t take it just yet. After all it&#8217;s for my birthday, so I have the first right to taste it. And mamma, why are you picking up the fruits already. Please put down the plate. I need to click pictures to send it to dad no. Please just put it down.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;The pooja is done. What picture do you want to click now, huh? You couldn&#8217;t even attend the aarti? Now leave me alone. I have lots of work to do.&#8221; Siya said, pushing Aarna gently to the side and moved towards the kitchen.</p><p>Aarna quickly clicked few pictures of the still burning fire and the idols by placing the bowl of kheer in front of them. After few shots, she hurriedly went to kitchen where Siya was cutting the fruits in small pieces and was putting them in a small paper bowls for the distribution.</p><p>Aarna hugged her from the back and said, &#8220;I am sorry Mamma. I was just angry. You know right, how I don&#8217;t like Poojas and all very much. But I love Kheer so much. I am going to eat the whole pot of Kheer all by myself. I will not let you distribute it.</p><p>Sorry na Mamma. Please forgive me and smile no. I don&#8217;t like your face when you don&#8217;t smile. Please smile, for me,&#8221; blinking her eyes and pouting her face to look cute.</p><p>Aarna then moved to the front to see her mom&#8217;s face.</p><p>&#8220;See, you&#8217;re smiling. This means you&#8217;re no longer angry, right? I love you so much Mamma.&#8221; Aarna laughed and pretended to dance with joy, looking at Siya, who was trying to hide her smile and maintain a straight face.</p><p>&#8220;Okay-okay. Stop dancing now and help me in arranging all the prasad. But don&#8217;t do this from next time okay? I didn&#8217;t like it all. You ruined my entire mood. I couldn&#8217;t even do pooja peacefully.&#8221; Siya said to Aarna, her eyes welling up a bit.</p><p><em>Oh god. I really hurt mom too much today. I am really such an idiot. Gosh, I need to make it up to her, </em>Aarna thought to herself and said to Siya, &#8220;I am sorry Mamma. I won&#8217;t do it next time. I would just simply be in the pooja room and click pictures, even if I don&#8217;t like the rituals and the pooja. Okay? </p><p>Please forget all of it now and be quick. I am getting late to distribute these to every house on the street and then I have to leave for meeting Barkha too, right? Can I go please? Pleasee? Aarna asked, squeezing her eyes softly to convince Siya.</p><p>&#8220;Okay-okay. You can go meet her. But you must be home before five. We would be cutting your cake with dad on video call, okay? So, be on time.&#8221; Siya said looking at Aarna who was standing there pretending to beg her by joining her both hands.</p><p>&#8220;You&#8217;re the best, mom,&#8221; Aarna exclaimed, and jumped with joy on her mom&#8217;s approval and gave a peck on her cheek.</p><p>They both started talking again and arranged the paper bowls with small portions of kheer and fruit for prasad together.</p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div><p>Time flew by with Aarna and Siya fighting, reconciling and Jay coming home occasionally on vacations which were no different from the workdays, the only difference being he loved doing the work at home, where his world was complete and where both of his worlds existed together.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Thank you so much for reading Part 1 of Home Between Calls.</strong><br>Though entirely fictional, some parts of this story were gently inspired by real moments and memories. I truly hope you enjoyed getting to know Jay, Siya, and Aarna.</p><p>If the story resonated with you, or if you have any thoughts, feedback, or personal experiences you'd like to share, I&#8217;d love to hear from you in the comments. Your words always mean a lot.</p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Some of my other stories and works-</strong></p><div class="digest-post-embed" data-attrs="{&quot;nodeId&quot;:&quot;2477b679-b997-4b6d-a4a1-e73de5015517&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;Disclaimer- This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.&quot;,&quot;cta&quot;:&quot;Read full story&quot;,&quot;showBylines&quot;:true,&quot;size&quot;:&quot;sm&quot;,&quot;isEditorNode&quot;:true,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;THE CONSTELLATION&quot;,&quot;publishedBylines&quot;:[{&quot;id&quot;:322261931,&quot;name&quot;:&quot;Ameliorating A&quot;,&quot;bio&quot;:&quot;'I'm just a little bit, caught in the middle, life's a maze and love is a riddle.'&quot;,&quot;photo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2d176cc3-2036-4d80-8d63-0e8a11909d48_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;is_guest&quot;:false,&quot;bestseller_tier&quot;:null}],&quot;post_date&quot;:&quot;2025-05-06T15:38:39.789Z&quot;,&quot;cover_image&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1431440869543-efaf3388c585?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx0aHVuZGVyfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NjU0NTc4M3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;cover_image_alt&quot;:null,&quot;canonical_url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-constellation&quot;,&quot;section_name&quot;:&quot;STORIES&quot;,&quot;video_upload_id&quot;:null,&quot;id&quot;:162978584,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;newsletter&quot;,&quot;reaction_count&quot;:11,&quot;comment_count&quot;:10,&quot;publication_id&quot;:null,&quot;publication_name&quot;:&quot;HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;publication_logo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!lyoP!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F743614f0-c32f-4726-af49-a654cb287a04_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;youtube_url&quot;:null,&quot;show_links&quot;:null,&quot;feed_url&quot;:null}"></div><div class="digest-post-embed" data-attrs="{&quot;nodeId&quot;:&quot;7f272e79-5adf-4975-b0dc-2a0bac95d806&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;Disclaimer- This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.&quot;,&quot;cta&quot;:&quot;Read full story&quot;,&quot;showBylines&quot;:true,&quot;size&quot;:&quot;sm&quot;,&quot;isEditorNode&quot;:true,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;'A Rainy Day Etched Forever in Memory'&quot;,&quot;publishedBylines&quot;:[{&quot;id&quot;:322261931,&quot;name&quot;:&quot;Ameliorating A&quot;,&quot;bio&quot;:&quot;'I'm just a little bit, caught in the middle, life's a maze and love is a riddle.'&quot;,&quot;photo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2d176cc3-2036-4d80-8d63-0e8a11909d48_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;is_guest&quot;:false,&quot;bestseller_tier&quot;:null}],&quot;post_date&quot;:&quot;2025-05-30T13:01:42.769Z&quot;,&quot;cover_image&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png&quot;,&quot;cover_image_alt&quot;:null,&quot;canonical_url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-rainy-day-etched-forever-in-memory&quot;,&quot;section_name&quot;:&quot;STORIES&quot;,&quot;video_upload_id&quot;:null,&quot;id&quot;:164790923,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;newsletter&quot;,&quot;reaction_count&quot;:10,&quot;comment_count&quot;:12,&quot;publication_id&quot;:null,&quot;publication_name&quot;:&quot;HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;publication_logo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!lyoP!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F743614f0-c32f-4726-af49-a654cb287a04_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;youtube_url&quot;:null,&quot;show_links&quot;:null,&quot;feed_url&quot;:null}"></div><div class="digest-post-embed" data-attrs="{&quot;nodeId&quot;:&quot;a1ee1c11-f249-4ef1-8f80-cacf0d5b699a&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;A POEM ON SOCIETAL PRESSURE AND DESIRE OF FREEDOM.&quot;,&quot;cta&quot;:&quot;Read full story&quot;,&quot;showBylines&quot;:true,&quot;size&quot;:&quot;sm&quot;,&quot;isEditorNode&quot;:true,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&#8216;DREAM BIG!&#8217; I WISH YOU BELIEVED.&quot;,&quot;publishedBylines&quot;:[{&quot;id&quot;:322261931,&quot;name&quot;:&quot;Ameliorating A&quot;,&quot;bio&quot;:&quot;'I'm just a little bit, caught in the middle, life's a maze and love is a riddle.'&quot;,&quot;photo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2d176cc3-2036-4d80-8d63-0e8a11909d48_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;is_guest&quot;:false,&quot;bestseller_tier&quot;:null}],&quot;post_date&quot;:&quot;2025-03-04T08:29:08.334Z&quot;,&quot;cover_image&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/81ef0973-823f-458b-96a5-93d861355697_800x500.jpeg&quot;,&quot;cover_image_alt&quot;:null,&quot;canonical_url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/holy-moly-586781438526&quot;,&quot;section_name&quot;:&quot;POEMS&quot;,&quot;video_upload_id&quot;:null,&quot;id&quot;:160869209,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;newsletter&quot;,&quot;reaction_count&quot;:0,&quot;comment_count&quot;:0,&quot;publication_id&quot;:null,&quot;publication_name&quot;:&quot;HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;publication_logo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!lyoP!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F743614f0-c32f-4726-af49-a654cb287a04_1024x1024.png&quot;,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;youtube_url&quot;:null,&quot;show_links&quot;:null,&quot;feed_url&quot;:null}"></div><div><hr></div><p>If you'd like to support my work and help me continue writing more stories like this, you can do so here: </p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;buy me a coffee/book&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>buy me a coffee/book</span></a></p><p>Every bit of encouragement keeps me going. Thank you truly for being here.</p><div><hr></div><div class="captioned-button-wrap" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;}" data-component-name="CaptionedButtonToDOM"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! This post is public so feel free to share it.</p></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/home-between-calls?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p></div><p>Thank you so much for reading :))</p><p>Until Next Time, </p><p>Take great Care, </p><p>And Stay Safe.</p><p>Seeya soon in the next one. </p><p>Love, </p><p>Ameliorating A. </p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA['A Rainy Day Etched Forever in Memory']]></title><description><![CDATA[A train journey of a young man, Megh turned into an unexpected set of events and gives him a new direction in life.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-rainy-day-etched-forever-in-memory</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-rainy-day-etched-forever-in-memory</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Fri, 30 May 2025 13:01:42 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="pullquote"><p>Disclaimer- This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.</p></div><p><em>&#8220;Megh? Is this you?&#8221;</em> The words echoed in his head as he kept looking out the window of the moving train.</p><p>It had been raining a lot lately and the sun was on a vacation it seemed. The clouds looked heavy and drunk. They drifted with the winds randomly, sometimes spreading themselves across the sky like a greyish sheet, with a little tint of earthy blue. Other times when they felt like they can&#8217;t stretch anymore, they planned and gradually started to move towards the decided spot. </p><p>They were defiant of the wind's instructions, refusing to listen to her and planned to do something fun as they came closer. When they came together, they left behind the dark calming blue, creating a patch of a clear sky, which mystified each and everything under it.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1534088568595-a066f410bcda?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxyYWluJTIwc2t5fGVufDB8fHx8MTc0ODYwNzA2N3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1534088568595-a066f410bcda?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxyYWluJTIwc2t5fGVufDB8fHx8MTc0ODYwNzA2N3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Daoudi Aissa</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>They couldn&#8217;t resist the force of wind for too long. They eventually had to break down again, and from time to time, their beautiful curls showed up&#8212;those grey-earth blue curls that looked more like heaven than the heaven itself.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1530743373890-f3c506b0b5b1?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyNXx8cmFpbiUyMGNsb3Vkc3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDcxNjd8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1530743373890-f3c506b0b5b1?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyNXx8cmFpbiUyMGNsb3Vkc3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDcxNjd8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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daytime&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="black and gray clouds during daytime" title="black and gray clouds during daytime" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1530743373890-f3c506b0b5b1?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyNXx8cmFpbiUyMGNsb3Vkc3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDcxNjd8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1530743373890-f3c506b0b5b1?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyNXx8cmFpbiUyMGNsb3Vkc3xlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDcxNjd8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, 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href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>It had just stopped pouring but the clouds still didn&#8217;t give up and stood firmly flaunting their natural curls, that they dyed black to look more appealing.</p><p>The trees looked calm, for the wind had softened, and the heavenly drops felt lighter. They stood calmly enjoying the light shower; finally in a state to make the whole air fragrant, giving the dead breaths a new life.</p><p>The surroundings appeared like an Instagram post, pictured by some great photographer who had edited it to perfection, with the dark-bluish filter covering all the patches in sight. It seemed no less than a movie.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1528402520525-05f8b9608a6c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxyYWlueXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDY4OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1528402520525-05f8b9608a6c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxyYWlueXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDY4OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1528402520525-05f8b9608a6c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxyYWlueXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDY4OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1528402520525-05f8b9608a6c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxyYWlueXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDY4OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1528402520525-05f8b9608a6c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxyYWlueXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDY4OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1528402520525-05f8b9608a6c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxyYWlueXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDY4OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="2304" height="2880" 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srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1528402520525-05f8b9608a6c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxyYWlueXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDY4OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1528402520525-05f8b9608a6c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxyYWlueXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDY4OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1528402520525-05f8b9608a6c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxyYWlueXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDY4OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1528402520525-05f8b9608a6c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxyYWlueXxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDg2MDY4OTl8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Nadia Valko</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>Megh was lost in the view. Train rides had been his escape ever since he was a kid, but this time he was travelling for work. He was going to his village.</p><div><hr></div><p>Initially, a month ago, when he got to know that he couldn&#8217;t get any center in his state, he was disappointed, but as the fee payment had already been done, he couldn&#8217;t do much about it. He thought to just appear for the exam if he would be well prepared by then; otherwise, he would just skip it altogether.</p><p>It was not too important, for he already pretty much knew that he would not get in. But deep inside he was bit thrilled, for it had been so long since he had travelled anywhere.</p><p>Here, in his hometown, he didn&#8217;t use to go outside much, except for work and some other days where he couldn&#8217;t stand himself inside the four walls of his room.</p><p>He practically had no friends, except few of his school friends, with whom he used to connect on texts sometimes and rarely calls.</p><p>He had turned inwards in the past few years. The parties, food, music and dance that once couldn&#8217;t stop him from missing any event, were no longer appealing to him. He didn&#8217;t like to talk much among his friends either now and he often found it very difficult to make new friends.</p><p> He knew the necessity of having friends, but he didn&#8217;t want to force it. And since he had not gotten into any college after passing school four years ago, it got even difficult for him to have any real interaction with people of similar interests.</p><p>He spent most of his time in his room and doing the household chores. He switched between reading, watching series and studying. The academic pressure, the feeling of missing out on everything, losing touch with friends he loved once, and the questions from relatives about his career to which he did not have any answers, made him feel like his chest was sinking and his world was narrowing inside his room constantly.</p><p>He had big dreams when he was a kid. He used to think that the world would always revolve around him, and all things would always go in his favor as he would grow up. But reality hit him later when he turned sixteen and when class eleventh syllabus started feeling impossible to make sense. </p><p>Nevertheless, he was a different person now, a completely different person who had outgrown his every version of the past&#8212;from being an outgoing extrovert person to growing into a quiet introvert, from feeling anxious about staying alone and missing his friends to not caring much about not meeting them in months or sometimes even a year, from not being able to sleep one month before exams to not bothering much about them and reading a novel a day before it, and many countless little things&#8212;he had outgrown every version of it, at least it comforted him as a thought.</p><p>He knew some parts of him were still the same, but he liked this transformed self-better, and at the same time hated him too for betraying the old him.</p><p>He still hated the fact that he longed to be in place of the boy in front of him, hanging out with his group of friends in a cafe, sitting next to a girl who was messing his hair. The idea of him being in his twenties and still had not been on a single date yet, left a dull ache in his chest. He craved for someone who would understand him, make him feel special and care for him on the days when he could no longer do it for himself.</p><p>He wanted to know what it felt like to hold a girl&#8217;s hand, to hug someone long enough without feeling awkward, to have someone to hold him in silence, or to kiss someone on the lips.</p><p>He knew that it wasn&#8217;t the time to focus on these things just yet. He knew it was a crucial time for his studies and career, and he avoided thinking about all this most of the times. But on somedays, when things would go out of his control, he felt these thoughts spiralling into his mind, making him even more restless about not doing anything with his life, nor living one.</p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div><p></p><p>And then that day would end with him staring at the fan, or endless scrolling until the battery died, or until his headache became intolerable from several attempts to stop tears from soaking the pillow more.</p><p>Megh was super ordinary, just barely average. He liked to study, sometimes, but those times were not enough to keep him afloat and secure a good spot.</p><p>He had tried several things: blaming himself, hating himself for failing again and again, studying on his own, studying by joining classes, reading books about how to be a prodigy and what not, but nothing worked, not yet.</p><p>He seemed pretty tired of all of it now. &#8216;<em>The dream, his dream</em>&#8217; no longer felt like the one that could ever turn into reality.</p><p>&#8220;What about my life? What about all the other dreams I had? How am I gonna be who I wanted to be, not just in terms of an image but who I really wanted to be?&#8221; He often asked these questions staring at the night sky, the only time he felt solace despite being alone in his room almost all day.</p><p>The exam day was coming closer and his preparation for the same wasn&#8217;t going great. His heart was racing, and he was constantly feeling a knot in his abdomen for the last few days. He didn&#8217;t feel like eating much either and when his mother would ask him if he was okay, he would just nod and go back to his room, trying to hide his choking voice and his moist eyes.</p><p>The room was suddenly too hot for him these days and he tried to avoid his desk as much as he could, because it made him more restless, as he couldn&#8217;t stop shaking his legs while sitting there.</p><p>His focus wasn&#8217;t being a good companion, and his heart couldn&#8217;t stop racing even when he tried to sleep. He gave up the whole idea of giving that exam and wanted to immerse himself in reading. He wanted to buy so many of the new books&#8212;having a book collection thrilled him, a big bookshelf on the corner of his room was one of his unreal dreams.</p><p>He wanted to ask for money from his mom, but he didn&#8217;t like to lie, and saying the truth meant no approval for any non-academic books.</p><p>The thought of not earning despite being a fully grown person and still not being allowed to read something of his own choice, settled a deep furrow between his brows, and he would just become still and lost. He wanted to get a job as soon as possible. He looked for ways but still hadn&#8217;t landed on anything yet.</p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Present day&#8212;</strong></p><p>He was shocked when he received the news that his grandmother&#8217;s condition had worsened, and she still was living all alone, managing somehow with the neighbors' help, when her own family is just four hours away by train.</p><p>He asked his mom about why they hadn&#8217;t taken her here in the city yet?</p><p><em>&#8220;She always keeps saying that she&#8217;s taking meds and that she&#8217;s doing okay. She hasn&#8217;t even informed her own kids yet. I had repeatedly asked her to come here but she didn&#8217;t listen.</em></p><p><em>I am very worried too, and I am not sure what to do. Should I call her kids and tell her? She needs to come here somehow and now she can&#8217;t even travel alone. Somebody needs to go and pick her up. You know, right, that how she treated us when we lived together?</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t feel much compassion for her now, but this is wrong, and we must take her here. It would be inconvenient though...&#8221; </em>her voice trailed off in the last sentence and she became silent.</p><p>Megh was looking at her face. He knew her relations with his grandmother. But still he felt his forehead tightening and his eyes seeing nothing, just digging the ground with their stare.</p><p><em>&#8220;Are you not concerned about her? So what if it would be inconvenient? We are also like her children, even when we are not blood related. And how would it have felt if you were in her place?&#8221; </em>He said this without thinking at the moment, but deep inside he felt his heart sinking, realizing he didn&#8217;t want the inconvenience too.</p><p>But he shrugged the thought, and he spoke after few seconds, <em>&#8220;I am going to pick her up. I&#8217;ll be leaving in the evening.&#8221;</em></p><p>His mom understood his emotions and said looking at him,<em> "Okay. But don&#8217;t you have an upcoming exam? What about that? You shouldn&#8217;t be too innocent in this cruel world, Megh.&#8221; </em>The tone of her voice expressed concern and her tightly pressed lips slight annoyance. He knew his mom well.</p><p>He hated the fact that his mom thought that he was too innocent and people could easily fool him. Well, he was soft, but was being kind also a bad thing now?</p><p>He clutched the corner of his t-shirt, trying not to let his face show any emotion, and went back to his room without saying anything.</p><p>His Mom kept looking at him in astonishment and concern for her kid, who appeared too good to survive in the cruel world she lived in. She sighed and her eyes wandered towards floor too, staring into nothingness.</p><p>He sat on his desk and thought <em>&#8220;What should I do, huh? Why does everyone keep making me feel like an idiot all the time? I am not an idiot. For God&#8217;s sake, I know what I am doing, what is to be done and what&#8217;s the right thing.</em></p><p><em>Maybe I am wrong, but at least let me be, be on my side when I fail. Why to always keep telling what&#8217;s right and what&#8217;s not? It&#8217;s not just her, it&#8217;s everyone.&#8221; </em>He clenched the arm rest of his chair and stared at the moving ceiling fan.</p><p>He hurriedly started packing his bag after booking the train tickets online. He packed a few clothes, some medicines, a notebook, and an unread novel he ordered secretly along with his textbooks. His mom packed him some food and gave him some cash to be kept safely.</p><p><em>&#8220;Be careful and call me after reaching. Take the morning bus tomorrow. It would be more convenient for her on the bus, as the train to here would be in the evening only, and it would not be very convenient to reach the railway station at night unless somebody drops both of you.</em></p><p><em>Take care and keep your wallet and phone carefully inside the bag,&#8221; </em>she said while walking him to the nearest auto stand. He touched her feet and said, <em>&#8220;Don&#8217;t worry. I&#8217;ll be back tomorrow.&#8221;</em></p><p>The auto dropped him off at the station and as he entered the station; it started pouring heavily. He turned around and looked at the sky. <em>&#8220;Thank you, for holding till now. You&#8217;re the best&#8221; </em>he said, and his lips curved into a smile.</p><p>He boarded the train and hanged his bag on his front to avoid any kind of theft. <em>&#8220;I am not an idiot. I would prove Mom that I can do everything on my own,&#8221; </em>he thought.</p><p>Luckily, the train wasn&#8217;t crowded, and he had gotten his favorite side lower seat. It was still pouring outside and even though the glass window was closed; he could still smell the earthen fragrance of rain.</p><p>He spent almost an hour doing nothing except staring at the moving trees getting drenched and listening to music in the last few minutes. He almost forgot why and where he was going. The thoughts moving along with the train started feeling heavier, and he felt the need for a companion to share the weight.</p><p>He pulled out a notebook from his bag and started writing.</p><blockquote><p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you think that we all are ghosts? Invisible to each and everyone around us, each of us is just involved in our own busy worlds? You know? I feel like a ghost sometime.&#8221; He took a pause, looked around his seat and his fellow passengers, and found it astonishing that how he was invisible to them for the past hour and how he would be invisible all along. He was also surprised that he didn&#8217;t notice them either.</p><p>&#8220;I really am a ghost, I guess. Nobody knows me, do they? I am no one to anyone. I kept longing to be known, but I am invisible. Except mom, do I have anyone who would even care if I died? I don&#8217;t know. It&#8217;s not sad, it&#8217;s liberating, but...</p><p>I don&#8217;t know. I keep moving, I keep trying, but all I get is nowhere and life seems so futile. What&#8217;s the point of doing all that I was doing, of trying? Isn&#8217;t this what I really need--to read and write?</p><p>I am aware of my duties, but I wish I were a literal ghost sometimes.</p></blockquote><blockquote><p>This life--full of responsibilities to be fulfilled by killing your soul, and the life which constantly demands fitting into a world that is not made for you, seems just too sick and old. I wish I were a literal ghost, the one with whom I could constantly feel like home.&#8221;</p></blockquote><p>He closed his notebook instantly when a voice asking him to make space startled him and broke his composure. </p><p>He looked forward, and in front of him was a girl, holding her drenched backpack in her hands and looking soaked herself.</p><p>He placed the notebook on his side and moved his legs to make space for her. He was still in wonder out of this sudden surprise and was looking at her, pulling out a towel and a plastic bag containing clothes.</p><p>She went somewhere, most probably to the restroom and, came back after some time. She had changed, the drenched clothes in the plastic bag now.</p><p><em>&#8220;Hiii,&#8221;</em> she said while putting the plastic bag in her already drenched bag and pulled out her phone, which she fortunately put inside a zip lock bag saving it from the uncalled disaster.</p><p>&#8220;<em>Heyy. Are you alright? How did you get all drenched?&#8221; </em>Megh said without thinking.</p><p>She placed her bag under the seat and sat down at one end.</p><p><em>&#8220;Yeah, I am alright. I just got bit late for the train, and hence I had to run from the front gate to the platform. It was pouring outside, but I couldn&#8217;t wait, and the platform was open too, no, that&#8217;s how I got drenched,&#8221; </em>she said looking at him, but also looking for something on her phone.</p><p>Her phone rang, and he heard her talking to her mom, informing she was all right and that she was on the train already.</p><p>Megh looked at the time on his watch, and it suddenly occurred to him that his destination was just two hours away now.</p><p>She looked at him after the call disconnected, and suddenly, they made eye contact. He felt shy and turned his gaze outside the window.</p><p><em>&#8220;Megh? Is this you?&#8221; </em>she asked him; the excitement of meeting someone familiar was clear in her voice.</p><p>He was shocked. He didn&#8217;t recognize her. How she knew him was still not clear to him.</p><p>He said shockingly, <em>&#8220;Yes. I am Megh. Do we know each other? I don&#8217;t recognize you. How do you know me?&#8221;</em></p><p><em>&#8220;I am Barkha, Megh!&#8221;</em> she said, laughing.</p><p>His brows were still furrowed, and he was carefully examining her face, so she finally said, <em>&#8220;Barkha, from fourth grade! Remember Rakhi ma&#8217;am? She used to make us sit together because our name resembled the same meaning.&#8221;</em></p><p>It finally clicked for him, and he started laughing too. They both had a good laugh before they could finally talk and catch up.</p><p><em>&#8220;What a coincidence, isn&#8217;t it? I really didn&#8217;t recognize you at all! How could you even figure out it was me? It had been more than a decade!&#8221;</em> He asked.</p><p><em>&#8220;Yeah, this is why they say that the world is so small. I recognized you from your watch.</em></p><p><em>You still like spider-man? I remember you bringing a watch to class one day, and the teacher scolded you a lot. You were still so obsessed with Spider man, and honestly, your face hasn&#8217;t changed that much. You still look like you.&#8221;</em> she said giggling.</p><p>He looked at her and thought how she could even remember that, and said,<em> &#8220;You have such a sharp memory, Barkha.</em></p><p><em>You looked familiar too, but I couldn&#8217;t figure out it was you. Anyway, what&#8217;s up? How are you here? Didn&#8217;t you shift to Punjab in fifth grade? Your dad transferred there, right? So, when did you shift here?&#8221;</em></p><p><em>&#8220;We shifted back here two years ago. My dad retired, and he wanted to come back to his hometown, so here we are,&#8221; </em>she said shrugging her shoulders, and continued, <em>&#8220;Nothing much&#8217;s happening. After passing out from school, I enrolled in a college, finished my degree, and now I am working as a story writer in a small publication here. That&#8217;s the sum of all these past years.</em></p><p><em>What about you? What are you doing these days? How&#8217;s life?&#8221;</em></p><p>He was stunned for a second when she said she was working, already, that too as a writer.</p><p>He thought, <em>&#8220;What should I even answer now? I am a loser in front of her. But better be honest, Megh. You would be an even bigger loser in your eyes, if you lie about who you are. Just tell her that you&#8217;re still preparing for college entrances. It&#8217;s all right.&#8221;</em></p><p>He took a deep breath and finally said, <em>&#8220;That&#8217;s a great thing, Barkha. You&#8217;re doing well for yourself, that means. I am happy for you. Mine is quite a different story, though.</em></p><p><em>I am still not in college; I am still preparing for entrances. But I am trying.&#8221;</em> He took his gaze away from her as he said this, expecting her to look at him in shock and disappointment.</p><p>But it stirred him when she said,<em> &#8220;Okay! That&#8217;s nice!&#8221;</em> smiling, not in a condescending or sarcastic way but in a way that felt like she really meant it.</p><p>&#8220;<em>Are you preparing for medical entrance? That was your dream all along, right?&#8221; </em>she asked in that same way, genuinely.</p><p><em>&#8220;Yeahh.&#8221; </em>He sighed, although he still wondered how she could remember it after these many years, but since he was already once surprised by her, this time the wonder was subtle.</p><p><em>&#8220;Do not worry. These things take time. You are trying at least, and if this is what you really want, it actually makes you a winner, more than anyone else, who is successful but didn&#8217;t go after &#8216;their thing&#8217;. Keep trying, Megh. You will surely get there soon,&#8221;</em> she said and paused for a moment.</p><p>He was silent too, and to avoid looking at her, he turned to the window for help again. The silence wasn&#8217;t intimidating, if anything it brought comfort to Megh.</p><p>He longed for someone to understand him, but when he was finally being understood, after quite a long time, it provided his pacing heart the warmth it badly needed.</p><p>She looked at him and thought, <em>&#8220;Maybe, I should not have asked him this. He might be feeling I was just judging him.&#8221;</em></p><p>Just then, he turned his head towards her and said, <em>&#8220;Thank you so much for saying this, Barkha. I am trying but I am not sure if I am going to continue it now.</em></p><p><em>It hurts to be dependent on your parents for everything, you know. I must look for ways to be capable enough to take care of me and my family now. Honestly, things get pretty tough sometimes.&#8221; </em>He paused suddenly with a jerk and tried saying something but then grew silent.</p><p>&#8220;<em>Megh, what the hell? We are meeting a classmate after more than a decade. We do not have to overshare our stuff, dude. What she will think now, huh? That I am a loser desperate for attention?&#8221;</em> he thought and after a short pause, said to himself quietly, <em>&#8220;Calm down now. Why am I even overthinking? It&#8217;s all right, no. I just shared my feelings; is that a bad thing? She&#8217;s more mature than me; she&#8217;ll probably understand.&#8221;</em></p><p>She broke the silence and said, &#8220;<em>You&#8217;re right. Life does get tough at times. It&#8217;s all right. I know for sure that you will find your path soon; after all, Megh (clouds) always find their way.</em></p><p><em>And on top of that, you are a living, breathing Megh; even whole Gagan (the sky) will give you the way&#8221;</em>. Her lips broke into a smile and, Megh was also smiling ear to ear.</p><p>&#8220;<em>Goshh!!&#8221;</em> he said laughing. <em>&#8220;You indeed are a writer, Barkha. Now, I know why you&#8217;re such a great writer. Share some of your work please. I am dying to read them now.&#8221;</em></p><p>She was flattered, the rosy glow on her cheeks clearly visible.</p><p><em>&#8220;Yeah, sure. I am always &#8216;dying&#8217; for more people to read and actually understand my writings. I hope you have time, though. I must warn you of the time it takes to read few of my works.&#8221; </em>She said rolling her eyes.</p><p><em>&#8220;I have plenty of time. No worries. Just share them.&#8221;</em> This time, he was being sincere and genuine.</p><p><em>&#8220;I saw you writing something too. Do you write? Please show me what you were writing. Pleaseee!&#8221; she requested, pointing at the notebook on his side. <br>&#8220;No, not possible. I was just journaling. I wasn&#8217;t writing anything, honestly.&#8221; </em>he spoke laughing and sliding the notebook towards his back as she tried reaching out for it.</p><p><em>&#8220;Fair then, I&#8217;ll also not share my pieces. They are more or less my journals only. If you&#8217;re not willing to show, then okay, let it be that way.&#8221;</em> She said, crossing her arms and looking outside the window.</p><p>&#8220;<em>Okay, okay. But just the last page okay, don&#8217;t you dare leaf through other pages, and there is a condition. You will also pull out something of yours for me to read. Now.&#8221; </em>He conceded finally.</p><p>She pulled out a link on her phone and said, &#8220;<em>Here. Now you also give me the notebook.&#8221;</em></p><p><em>&#8220;Here. But there&#8217;s nothing interesting in it. You will find out for yourself when you read it. But stick to the deal.&#8221;</em> He said, his face growing slightly anxious as she began reading it.</p><p>He scrolled to the pdf of what appeared like a poem, with a proper professional cover and all.</p><p>He began reading it and came across the stanza--</p><blockquote><p><em>&#8216;I know you can&#8217;t trust me enough, for I have never done something to prove my abilities,</em></p><p><em>You might not see me as an asset but a burdening liability,</em></p><p><em>But the passive aggressive questions of curiosity hurt at times, for they are the truth afterall,</em></p><p><em>I am not who you expected me to be, but I am trying to give my all.</em></p></blockquote><p>He was stunned and very impressed. It felt like it was written just for him. His respect for her increased manifold, and he went ahead and read the whole poem, forgetting that she was also reading his work.</p><p>When he finished, she had already finished reading, and the notebook was lying closed on her lap. He handed her phone back and said, <em>&#8220;Girll!! This is amazing!! You write so well, honestly. I would love to read more of these. Have you written a book yet? It must be a huge hit. This is really beautiful, Barkha.&#8221;</em></p><p>She broke into an ear-to-ear smile again and said, <em>&#8220;Thank you. I am glad you liked it. I have submitted my latest poetry and short story collection to a publisher. I guess the book would come into existence soon. You write well too, though. It&#8217;s really true, and actually, you have given me an idea for my next piece. I would title it as- &#8216;We All Are Ghosts&#8217;.</em></p><p><em>It is really true that we all are just ghosts, invisible to everyone around us, coming into actual existence rarely. I will definitely share the link with you when I&#8217;ll be done. Thank you for this idea,&#8221; </em>and she broke into a soft giggle.</p><p><em>&#8220;Haha. That was a nice one.&#8221; </em>he said laughing, thinking she was just fooling around.</p><p><em>&#8220;Seriously, I will write on it,&#8221; </em>she responded again in a way that felt genuine.</p><p><em>&#8220;Okay. This is weird. But I will be excited to read your take on it,&#8221; </em>he said, looking at her and then shifted his gaze away.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!hFd0!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!hFd0!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!hFd0!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!hFd0!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!hFd0!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!hFd0!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png" width="1456" height="971" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:971,&quot;width&quot;:1456,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:2620730,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/png&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/i/164790923?img=https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png&quot;,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!hFd0!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!hFd0!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!hFd0!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!hFd0!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68e99adc-8a28-40f9-aafb-01f03ec33ca8_1536x1024.png 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">AI generated image</figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p><em>&#8220;You know, Megh. Please don&#8217;t think that I am trying to preach you or something here. But life unfolds very differently for every one of us. It&#8217;s all right to have your own route and to take as much time as you need. It&#8217;s not only about reaching the top, the journey matters too, doesn&#8217;t it?&#8221; </em>she asked him, but her gaze was caught by the darkness covering the sky gradually.</p><div><hr></div><p>The rain shower was looking like shooting stars being sprinkled on the earth from heaven. The way they lit up and looked white against the bright spot around the top of the light poles, amidst the thick blanket of darkness, was mesmerizing.</p><p>Megh looked outside too, and they both were lost looking at the same view. They were silent, but their eyes spoke a lot. They expressed the sheer pleasure and wonder of nature, twinkling with the very stars they were watching.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1509928015542-fcc9b3bcd048?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyfHxzdGFycyUyMHJhaW5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3ODAzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1509928015542-fcc9b3bcd048?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyfHxzdGFycyUyMHJhaW5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3ODAzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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post&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="lighted post" title="lighted post" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1509928015542-fcc9b3bcd048?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyfHxzdGFycyUyMHJhaW5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3ODAzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1509928015542-fcc9b3bcd048?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyfHxzdGFycyUyMHJhaW5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3ODAzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1509928015542-fcc9b3bcd048?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyfHxzdGFycyUyMHJhaW5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3ODAzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1509928015542-fcc9b3bcd048?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwyfHxzdGFycyUyMHJhaW5pbmd8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3ODAzfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Daniel van den Berg</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-rainy-day-etched-forever-in-memory?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-rainy-day-etched-forever-in-memory?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><p>Barkha got startled when her phone rang. It was the station alarm from her &#8216;your journey&#8217; app, serving the purpose of informing her about her destination station when it would be just ten kilometers away.</p><p>She said,<em> &#8220;Shoot! I totally forgot about the time. The next station is mine. I am visiting my cousin, actually. But it was so nice meeting you, Megh. I never thought today would be this memorable. Wish you all the very best for your upcoming ventures. You are going to rock your life, okay? Do not take too much stress and keep sharing your views about my pieces whenever you get time.&#8221;</em></p><p>A subtle sadness emerged inside him, knowing that she would be leaving now. But he did not had time to think about all this right now.</p><p><em>&#8220;Same here. It was pleasant meeting you, Barkha. I hope this station would be covered, otherwise you&#8217;ll be drenched twice today. The rain is in no mood to stop today&#8221;</em> he said, looking out the window as beautiful stars kept falling.</p><p><em>&#8220;It would be my pleasure to read pieces by a great writer like you. Just please share the link. And what is the name of your book? I&#8217;ll try to purchase it in paperback and place it in my book collection. It would look beautiful there.</em></p><p><em>And honestly, I am so proud of you. I can&#8217;t even imagine that I know a writer as a friend in my life. It was so good meeting you today. Thank you for everything,&#8221; </em>he continued, and stood up along with her as she carried her still wet backpack on her shoulders again.</p><p><em>&#8220;Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the title. The short story one is titled &#8220;Memories with Gagan&#8221; (Memories with clouds) and the poem collection is named &#8220;Aakash is Deep (Sky is Deep),&#8221; </em>I know they are seeming bit childish, but I liked them so much that I didn&#8217;t change them in proofreading.</p><p><em>Thank you so much to you too, Megh. I&#8217;ll look forward to connecting with you more, Mr.Ghost.&#8221; </em>she said breaking into laughter.</p><p>They both moved towards the exit door slowly, trying to balance their shaking bodies on the train moving at full speed.</p><p>As they reached the gate, the train started to slow down gradually. The station still couldn&#8217;t be spotted, but it felt like it could arrive any moment now. They both stood there silently, gazing at the weather outside and waiting for the station to arrive.</p><p>Megh suddenly remembered something and spoke in a hurry, <em>&#8220;We did not share contacts. How we will be able to connect later on?&#8221;</em></p><p>The station came closer, and he could sense himself panicking, but he stood there bringing no emotions to his face.</p><p><em>&#8220;Ohh, yeah! I forgot. Well, let me know your number and I&#8217;ll text you&#8221; </em>she said in response.</p><p>He hurriedly dictated his number while the train was slowly pulling up on the platform. She saved the contact and said looking at him, <em>&#8220;Seeya soon, Megh. Take care!&#8221;</em></p><p>A gust of strong wind messed their hair as the train finally came to a halt. </p><p>She stepped ahead and holding the handle on both sides, she leaned her head forward still standing inside.</p><p><em>&#8220;See, this station has got me covered. I will take a taxi at the front gate. I won&#8217;t be drenched now,</em>&#8221; she said, smiling and stepped down from the train.</p><p><em>&#8220;Yeah, yeah. Looks like it is really a lucky day for both of us,&#8221; </em>he smiled back and stood there.</p><p>&#8220;<em>Take care, Barkha. See ya,&#8221;</em> he said as he felt the ground below him starting to move.</p><p>He clutched the handle tightly with one hand and leaned his head forward as they both kept waving at each other until the train picked up full speed again and left the platform.</p><p>He turned to go back to his seat, but the sudden sense of absence hit him, and he stood there at the gate.</p><p>It had gotten completely dark now, and rain had started to slow down. He felt a strong blow of moist wind on his face, the earthly smell of rain it brought with itself, not only refreshed him but his soul.</p><p>He kept gazing outside, standing there until the train halted at the next stop and other passengers came to front to deboard the train.</p><p>Finally, he gathered himself up and whispered under his breath, <em>&#8220;Maybe someday again. She was so nice, wasn&#8217;t she? It felt good to have met a friend after so long. And..this was like an unexpected date, right?&#8221;</em> his cheeks flushed a little on this thought and a soft smile bloomed on his face.</p><p>He returned to his seat and saw his notebook still lying on Barkha&#8217;s spot. He picked it up and opened the last page where he was writing earlier.</p><p>He pulled out the pen and started writing again-</p><blockquote><p>&#8220;Maybe it is not just me who is a ghost, and maybe I can come into existence too, at least I would exist for some people.</p><p>Maybe it&#8217;s true that we all have different lives, and we all will have different timelines. Maybe it was okay for me to try and stick with a thing I thought was my dream.</p><p>I stood by myself and isn&#8217;t what that really matters? Maybe this is the thing that really matters: to stand by yourself even when you are unsure, to give yourself a chance, to exist for yourself in the worlds of ghost.</p><p>I guess I should no longer consider myself a loser. I will fulfill my responsibility; at least now I know what needs to be done.</p><p>This is the first step; I&#8217;ll slowly reach towards existing for real too. Just some more time, Megh, we will buy loads of books for us.</p><p>And now, I will try being more kind towards me and my life. It&#8217;s not that bad, is it?&#8221; His face was calm; his eyes felt serene.</p></blockquote><p>Suddenly, his phone buzzed and broke his concentration. He pulled it out and it put a big smile on his face; it was a text from Barkha.</p><p>She was texting from the taxi and was asking him to save her number too. He saved her number and told her to inform him once she reached safely, when another message popped.</p><p><em>&#8220;Megh, don&#8217;t get mad, please, but I accidentally read one more page from your notebook. I did not mean to, I swear, but as I kept the notebook away after reading the last page, a blow of wind turned a few pages, and when I went ahead to close it, I saw there was a poem written and, then I could not resist myself from reading it. You were so engrossed in reading my poem that you did not notice.</em></p><p><em>I hope you will not be upset about it. But dude, it was fantastic.</em></p><p><em>I mean, you could be a writer yourself, Megh. It was raw, poignant and achingly beautiful. It was fantastic. I promise I didn&#8217;t skim through other pages. I closed the notebook after reading that one. If you have written more, do share them with me, and if you would like, I can even help you publish it. It was awesome!&#8221;</em></p><p>He was a bit surprised reading that text, but he appreciated her honesty and didn&#8217;t mind her reading it. He did not remember about which poem she was talking about, so he flipped back few pages, and after seeing, he broke into a shy smile.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!MlRU!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91be7db0-80ca-4e67-9570-6464ceefb2b0_2343x2833.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!MlRU!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91be7db0-80ca-4e67-9570-6464ceefb2b0_2343x2833.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!MlRU!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91be7db0-80ca-4e67-9570-6464ceefb2b0_2343x2833.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!MlRU!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91be7db0-80ca-4e67-9570-6464ceefb2b0_2343x2833.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!MlRU!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91be7db0-80ca-4e67-9570-6464ceefb2b0_2343x2833.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!MlRU!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91be7db0-80ca-4e67-9570-6464ceefb2b0_2343x2833.jpeg" width="2343" height="2833" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/91be7db0-80ca-4e67-9570-6464ceefb2b0_2343x2833.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:2833,&quot;width&quot;:2343,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:1262419,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/i/164790923?img=https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1ab396cb-1517-42eb-a5b9-e1c61883fb50_3072x4096.jpeg&quot;,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!MlRU!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91be7db0-80ca-4e67-9570-6464ceefb2b0_2343x2833.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!MlRU!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91be7db0-80ca-4e67-9570-6464ceefb2b0_2343x2833.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!MlRU!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91be7db0-80ca-4e67-9570-6464ceefb2b0_2343x2833.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!MlRU!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91be7db0-80ca-4e67-9570-6464ceefb2b0_2343x2833.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Megh&#8217;s Poem-Author&#8217;s own image</figcaption></figure></div><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Bh9Q!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F43b5c600-1afc-4a42-a38e-069c4c451918_3072x1192.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Bh9Q!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F43b5c600-1afc-4a42-a38e-069c4c451918_3072x1192.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Bh9Q!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F43b5c600-1afc-4a42-a38e-069c4c451918_3072x1192.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Bh9Q!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F43b5c600-1afc-4a42-a38e-069c4c451918_3072x1192.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Bh9Q!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F43b5c600-1afc-4a42-a38e-069c4c451918_3072x1192.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Bh9Q!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F43b5c600-1afc-4a42-a38e-069c4c451918_3072x1192.jpeg" width="3072" height="1192" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/43b5c600-1afc-4a42-a38e-069c4c451918_3072x1192.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:1192,&quot;width&quot;:3072,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:221123,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/i/164790923?img=https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F86f830d3-fa25-4ec0-9fa2-7ddb6c231df6_3072x4096.jpeg&quot;,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Bh9Q!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F43b5c600-1afc-4a42-a38e-069c4c451918_3072x1192.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Bh9Q!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F43b5c600-1afc-4a42-a38e-069c4c451918_3072x1192.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Bh9Q!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F43b5c600-1afc-4a42-a38e-069c4c451918_3072x1192.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Bh9Q!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F43b5c600-1afc-4a42-a38e-069c4c451918_3072x1192.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Megh&#8217;s poem-Author&#8217;s own image</figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>He wrote, <em>&#8220;Arey, (casual Hindi expression) it&#8217;s okay, no big deal. You did not read other things intentionally, right, and that&#8217;s it.</em></p><p><em>It&#8217;s fine, I don&#8217;t mind. Hahaha. Infact thank you so much; I did not know that I could publish a poem of mine.</em></p><p><em>I just wrote it casually. I really appreciate you offering to publish it. Thank you so much; I will share if I write something new now. Let these be between us till then. XD,&#8221;</em> he typed hurriedly and was still smiling.</p><p><em>&#8220;Okay, next stop is mine, I better pack my stuff.</em></p><p><em>Text me once you reach.</em></p><p><em>See ya,&#8221; </em>he typed, finishing the text and hitting the send button.</p><p><em>&#8220;See ya, Megh. Stay careful and let me know too once you reach.&#8221;</em> A message from her popped again.</p><p>He heaved a sigh, the one that felt nice, and slipped the phone back into his pocket and kept the notebook and pen inside his backpack.</p><p>He carefully checked for any items fallen out of his bag accidentally, and after making sure that everything was in place, he stood there and took a good look at the seat as <em>&#8220;Megh? Is this you?&#8221;</em> echoed in his head. He smiled and turned towards the exit gate.</p><p>The train hissed and jerked suddenly; he was about to lose his balance when another passenger from behind held him. He turned to him and thanked him profusely for saving him from the fall and stood beside him, holding the handle tightly this time.</p><p>His heart was racing from the near-death fall, and he thought, <em>&#8220;What if I had just fallen today? Wouldn&#8217;t it all have been better, if all these things just ended once and for all?</em></p><p><em>I wouldn&#8217;t have felt a thing, no?&#8221;</em> He was lost in his thoughts when a fellow passenger&#8217;s kid accidentally played a song on his mother&#8217;s phone, breaking his train of thought.</p><blockquote><p>The lyrics&#8212; &#8216;Jo hota hai, so ho jaye, haan jhagad lunga..par himmat na kabhi bhi haarunga, mai lad lunga...ho jhagad lunga..&#8221; hit him hard and he squared his shoulders.</p><p>[Translation of the lyric- <em>"Whatever happens, let it happen, yes, I will fight.. but I will never lose courage, I will keep fighting... yes, I will fight.."</em>]</p></blockquote><p><em>&#8220;Megh, what were you thinking, huh? Are we gonna give up this easily? How can you think something like that? We have lots of things to do and we&#8217;ll do them. We&#8217;ll fight bud, we can&#8217;t give up just like that!! We will fight bro. I am never going to let this thought come to my mind again,&#8221;</em> he thought as his eyes became moist.</p><p>He clutched the straps of his backpack tightly with his fingers as he closed his eyes to feel the gust of cold breeze on his face.</p><p>The train gradually slowed down, and he thought, <em>&#8220;It was really a lucky day today,&#8221; </em>looking at the sky.</p><p>The train halted, and he stepped down. He was feeling hungry by now, so he decided to book a taxi first and eat his dinner on the way.</p><p>As he was about to exit the station, he saw a familiar face. It was his relative uncle who lived in the village.</p><p>He went ahead and touched his feet and realized that it was his Mom who called his uncle to pick him up from the station as it had gotten dark, and it was still raining lightly.</p><p>He felt the warmth spreading inside his chest, as he had the biggest smile on his face, and he thanked his uncle so much for being there.</p><p>After reaching the car, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.</p><p>The call was picked up immediately, and he was saying, <em>&#8220;Mamma, I am with Uncle. Do not worry now. Did you eat yet?&#8221;</em> as his uncle smiled and started the car.</p><p>It was really a good day for him, and this day would change his opinions a lot. He would go on to become a writer himself in the next few years and would publish his own book too. He and Barkha would become good friends again and would help each other a lot.</p><p>He would own his dream shelf of books, not just in one corner of his room, but rather in a whole dedicated room full of books of several kinds.</p><p>The top shelf would proudly flaunt Barkha&#8217;s collections along with his newly published novel-- <em>&#8220;Megh ka Bhoot&#8221; (The Ghost of Cloud).</em></p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1545696648-86c761bc5410?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxib29rc2hlbGZ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3NjgwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1545696648-86c761bc5410?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxib29rc2hlbGZ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3NjgwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1545696648-86c761bc5410?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxib29rc2hlbGZ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3NjgwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1545696648-86c761bc5410?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxib29rc2hlbGZ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3NjgwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1545696648-86c761bc5410?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxib29rc2hlbGZ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3NjgwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1545696648-86c761bc5410?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxib29rc2hlbGZ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3NjgwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="4288" height="2848" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1545696648-86c761bc5410?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxib29rc2hlbGZ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3NjgwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:2848,&quot;width&quot;:4288,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;assorted-labeled book lot on white wooden shelf&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="assorted-labeled book lot on white wooden shelf" title="assorted-labeled book lot on white wooden shelf" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1545696648-86c761bc5410?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxib29rc2hlbGZ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3NjgwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1545696648-86c761bc5410?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxib29rc2hlbGZ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3NjgwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1545696648-86c761bc5410?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxib29rc2hlbGZ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3NjgwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1545696648-86c761bc5410?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw2fHxib29rc2hlbGZ8ZW58MHx8fHwxNzQ4NjA3NjgwfDA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Aneta Pawlik</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>He would still not achieve a lot of things he wished to when he was younger, but he would bag the biggest achievement anyone could ever achieve&#8212;faith and pride in oneself.</p><div><hr></div><p>The End.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe now&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?"><span>Subscribe now</span></a></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-rainy-day-etched-forever-in-memory/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-rainy-day-etched-forever-in-memory/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><p></p><p>P.S. - Thank you so much for taking this journey with Megh. He would love to know your views on his story. He is very grateful for you staying till the end. Do let him know how you felt about this and how his story could be improved. Thank you so much for you reading :))</p><p>P.P.S - If you enjoyed reading this story and would like to support my writing, you can help me out here. Every bit helps me keep creating stories like this.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Buy me a coffee/book&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://buymeacoffee.com/amelioratinga"><span>Buy me a coffee/book</span></a></p><div><hr></div><p>Thank you so much for reading  :))) &lt;333</p><p>Until Next Time, </p><p>Take Great Care!!</p><p>And Stay Hydrated :))</p><p>Seeya soon :)))</p><p></p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[THE CONSTELLATION]]></title><description><![CDATA[The Hand I Once Held.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-constellation</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/the-constellation</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Tue, 06 May 2025 15:38:39 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1431440869543-efaf3388c585?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx0aHVuZGVyfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NjU0NTc4M3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="pullquote"><p><strong>Disclaimer- </strong>This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.</p></div><blockquote><p>Well yeah, I copy pasted this disclaimer from Chat GPT. But the story is entirely original. I took help for grammar, and edited the corrections as much as I can, but you could still observe few errors here and there. I didn&#8217;t want to lose the originality and hence didn&#8217;t tweak much. </p></blockquote><p>&#8220;<em>Taara? Is this you?</em>&#8221;</p><p>Anant typed the text, in a chat that had no name, and no previous history.</p><p>He cleared the text nervously, his brows furrowed. Suddenly, breathing became a chore and took effort, the frequency of rise and fall of his chest increased a bit, and the difference was visible, even to himself, from the normal. He put his palm on his forehead; the sweat particles had made his palm cold and wet.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Is it important? Should I even do it? Would I look like a stalker and a creep by sending her this?&#8217;  </em>He thought to himself, looking towards the ceiling, staring at the fan, dimly visible by the lights coming in from the balcony door.</p><p>The room was pitch dark, the earthy fragrance from the drizzle outside, along with the winds blowing, filled the whole room with a familiar freshness and a sort of a pleasant melancholy, the kind, where the tiny ache in the chest brings back countless forgotten memories, the ones that don&#8217;t hurt but make you long for them again and more.</p><p>He lay down on the bed, which was placed closely against the wall, leaving no gap in between, the other side of the bed facing the balcony.</p><p>He turned to his side, felt the cold wind with a trace of moisture from the drizzle, on his face, his eyes closed.</p><p>The dark blue, late-evening sky, drizzling the rain, looked like it needed to cry too, that it was feeling too much too and could no longer hold itself.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!qxZn!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F78d22705-6e52-46e5-b108-0cf1f5c0a200_2048x1536.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!qxZn!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F78d22705-6e52-46e5-b108-0cf1f5c0a200_2048x1536.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!qxZn!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F78d22705-6e52-46e5-b108-0cf1f5c0a200_2048x1536.jpeg 848w, 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stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a></figure></div><p></p><p>Anant opened his eyes, and only the tiny portion of the sky, its view obstructed by the chair of his desk, the grills of the balcony and the building in front, was visible from here.</p><p>He adored the color still, the depth of the greyish blue sky, covered with dark black clouds, leaving only a few areas to appear blue; the sky was always his favorite, his best companion.</p><p>He sighed and turned on his back again.</p><p><em>&#8220;I don&#8217;t want to believe that she would have forgotten me. I don&#8217;t think my reaching out to her should hurt her, or would it? I should forget her now, it&#8217;s been a long time, and the process of making peace without her was painful enough.&#8221;</em> He thought to himself, staring at the fan and a poster saying, &#8216;Welcome&#8217; on the wall towards his legs.</p><p><em>&#8220;How can anyone forget anything that mattered to them. How am I supposed to forget her?</em></p><p><em>She was special to me. She was.. &#8216;Deep&#8217;!&#8221;</em></p><p>His train of thoughts halted, and a picture of Taara appeared before him.</p><p><em><strong>A tall girl, same height as his own, well-fed slightly chubby body, sky-blue t-shirt and faded pants, lips curved into a shy smile, dark black and deep eyes, with unmade eyebrows, a mole on her left cheek, and pimple marks on her forehead, clutching &#8216;Aashadh ka ek din&#8217;, and &#8216;Theek tumhare peeche,&#8217; against her chest with one hand, and her phone with a floral cover in the other, appeared before him.</strong></em></p><p><em>&#8220;She never liked wearing makeup, did she? I could see in her eyes how she felt when she looked at others, who seemed prettier than her, following the latest fashion, having perfectly done makeup and hair.</em></p><p><em>She used to be at peace with the fact, most of the time, that she didn&#8217;t like to wear makeup, and that she was bad at following fashion. But sometimes, she wanted to be like them. Still, she never tried, because she loved being who she really was&#8212; real and someone who preferred comfort.</em></p><p><em>She was insecure, sometimes, about her looks though, and felt guilty about not trying, still never bothered to change. <strong>That&#8217;s what I loved about her.</strong></em></p><p><em>I never said that to her because I never gathered enough courage to tell her how beautiful she was, that she was the most gorgeous among all the people, without trying, among the ones she thought to be prettier.</em></p><p><em>I could have never commented on her looks; it would not have been appropriate. After all she made it very clear, how much she hated the idea of typical relationship, love and marriage. I could feel her longing, for the very same things she hated, but she resisted herself so much that I never felt like overstepping her boundaries. I am glad that I didn&#8217;t, otherwise we wouldn&#8217;t have been even what we were then,&#8221; </em>he thought to himself, staring at the sky, from the chair this time.</p><p>He stood up from the chair and picked up the book lying on the bed. Holding it in his hands, he caressed its smooth, shining cover with his thumb&#8202;&#8212;&#8202;&#8216;THE CONSTELLATION&#8217; embossed beautifully across it. A dark blue starry night sky, featuring two people looking at the moon above the ocean while holding hands, was on the cover. It was mesmerizing. His eyes were fixated on it in wonder. He moved back to the chair and sat down placing the book on the table.</p><p>The author&#8217;s name written in black, on the bottom-right corner, caught his eye.</p><div><hr></div><p><em>&#8220;I&#8217;m sure it&#8217;s Taara&#8217;s. Only she could&#8217;ve written this way. The author&#8217;s name is indeed &#8216;Naina&#8217;, but this is Taara for sure. She never liked sharing what she wrote with her own name; she liked being anonymous, but she failed at it terribly after putting it as her status on &#8216;Whatsapp&#8217;. Everybody would know of course, after she put &#8216;Check this out! And lemme know how you like it!&#8217;</em></p><p><em>I found her so cute, when she couldn&#8217;t contain her excitement and shared stuff she meant to keep anonymous. And then deleting the status after some time, when she no longer could pacify her anxious thoughts, telling her, how everybody would find her cringe and judge her for writing such stories. It wasn&#8217;t true at all, but boy would she listen? I never understood her properly, what she felt and everything.</em></p><p><em>But I always was proud and honestly honored for being the first one to always receive her writings, to always be the first one to read it. She trusted me enough on this,&#8221; </em>writing this sentence, brought a rosy glow on his wheatish- pale brown cheeks, his almond shaped eyes closed, and he broke into a smile.</p><p>After a moment, he felt a soft ache in his chest, his heart seemed to have leapt a few hurdles, instead of running normally, the smile was fading gradually from his face and his eyes were fixated upon the book again.</p><p><em>&#8220;I am no longer the first one to read her work, her soul.</em></p><p><em>She always said that all of the stories she wrote were fictional, but when I saw her, I saw her character&#8217;s elements in her.</em></p><p><em>The way Shree, from her story, hated her hair touching her neck, and hence never left them open, I saw the same thing in Taara. She hated having her hair open, even when they were wet. I don&#8217;t know how she dried those mid-length, black strands, always fragrant enough to give her a peculiar smell.</em></p><p><em>I remember how she smelled, from when once I was standing behind her in the queue and when we were sitting together on the bus. I remember her smell s-t-i-ll.</em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t know why we drifted apart so much. I don&#8217;t know really.&#8221;</em> He thought to himself and sighed.</p><p>He opened the chat on his phone again and stared at the unsaved contact,<em> &#8220;I wish I would&#8217;ve forgotten her number too. I just wish there was a way to delete memories like we could delete texts,&#8221; </em>he said feeling a warm fury inside him, his palms sweaty again.</p><p>He opened the book and started reading the<em><strong> sixth chapter, </strong></em>from where he had last stopped reading.</p><div><hr></div><p>The book was about a girl named,<em><strong> Zenith </strong></em>and her life. The secondary character in the book was <em><strong>Rhea</strong></em>, her best friend and roommate.</p><p><strong>The extract of the book, Anant was reading- Chapter-6 (It&#8217;s not him. It&#8217;s me!)</strong></p><blockquote><p><strong>&#9888;</strong>&#65039; Trigger Warning <br> <strong>This chapter holds a piece of Rhea&#8217;s past &#8212; one she&#8217;s hidden in silence for years. It speaks about childhood trauma and a moment of abuse that shaped her deeply. If this is something that might be too heavy for you, please take care of yourself first. You can skip this chapter and return whenever or if ever you're ready. Rhea&#8217;s story will still be waiting.</strong></p><p>(I took AI&#8217;s help to write this trigger warning.)</p></blockquote><p><em>&#8220;Zenith? Are you still here?&#8221; </em>Rhea asked, opening the door and entering the terrace.</p><p>Zenith got startled and turned the phone&#8217;s flashlight towards Rhea.</p><p><em>&#8220;Bloody hell Rhea! What the hell? Who scares somebody like this?&#8221; </em>she said panting.</p><p><em>&#8220;You&#8217;re a total idiot you know!&#8221;</em> Rhea said covering her eyes with her hands at the sight of bright light rays entering her eyes all of a sudden, on the pitch-dark terrace, and moved towards Zenith.</p><p><em>&#8220;You know what time is it?&#8221;</em> she asked loudly and without waiting for Zenith&#8217;s answer she continued, <em>&#8216;Eleven pm! Do you understand? What are you doing here anyway?&#8217;, </em>she paused for an answer this time, but Zenith didn&#8217;t say anything, just looked at her, putting the phone down and flashlight facing upwards.</p><p>She (Rhea) continued again, <em>&#8220;Who reads a novel, at night&#8230;on the terrace.. in the dark.. with a flashlight? Who does that Zen and why? You&#8217;ve got a whole room, with air conditioner for god&#8217;s sake, to yourself. Yeah of course I also live in it, but you could always draw the curtains, babe. Why are you sitting here?&#8221;</em> she asked Zenith, in a tone of concern, frustration and curiosity all at once.</p><p>Zen (short for Zenith) burst into laughter, looking at Rhea&#8217;s concern and amusement.</p><p><em>&#8220;Come here, my darling baby,&#8221; </em>she said to Rhea, laughing even more, and stretching her hands towards her, offering her a hug and inviting her to sit on the floor with her.</p><p>Rhea playfully slapped Zen&#8217;s hand and shouted,<em> &#8220;I&#8217;m not your baby!&#8221;</em> rolling her eyes and sitting down.</p><p>Zen still hugged her despite Rhea&#8217;s attempt to resist and kissed her cheek. Rhea was pretending to be angry but clearly, she was enjoying and smiling.</p><p><em>&#8220;You&#8217;re really a biiiiig idiot, Zen! A big one, really.&#8221;</em> Rhea said, laughing and asking Zen again about why she was here.</p><p><em>&#8220;Try it sometime, Rooh (Zenith lovingly calls Rhea, Rooh), you&#8217;ll understand. Just look at the sky above us.</em></p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1531869980223-9ae9fe67f3da?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxM3x8c3RhcnJ5JTIwc2t5JTIwJTIwY29uc3RlbGxhdGlvbnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDY1NDU2MTh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1531869980223-9ae9fe67f3da?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxM3x8c3RhcnJ5JTIwc2t5JTIwJTIwY29uc3RlbGxhdGlvbnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDY1NDU2MTh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, 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photo&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="starry night photo" title="starry night photo" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1531869980223-9ae9fe67f3da?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxM3x8c3RhcnJ5JTIwc2t5JTIwJTIwY29uc3RlbGxhdGlvbnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDY1NDU2MTh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1531869980223-9ae9fe67f3da?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxM3x8c3RhcnJ5JTIwc2t5JTIwJTIwY29uc3RlbGxhdGlvbnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDY1NDU2MTh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1531869980223-9ae9fe67f3da?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxM3x8c3RhcnJ5JTIwc2t5JTIwJTIwY29uc3RlbGxhdGlvbnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDY1NDU2MTh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1531869980223-9ae9fe67f3da?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxM3x8c3RhcnJ5JTIwc2t5JTIwJTIwY29uc3RlbGxhdGlvbnxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDY1NDU2MTh8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Gage Smith</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p><em>Isn&#8217;t it so majestic? Isn&#8217;t it just what we crave for constantly&#8212; the freedom, the independence, the vast expansion? Its company is the best, Rooh, especially when your room starts to suffocate you, when the doors and walls feel like they are blocking the air from reaching you. It gets hard to breathe in there, among all the pictures of us, becoming what we want to in future.</em></p><p><em>The air there sometimes feels too heavy from expectations, homesickness, failures, efforts, longing, guilt and I don&#8217;t know how many more things.</em></p><p><em>The Sky is liberating&#8212;no pressure, no expectations, no confrontations, only confessions, mesmerizing view and feeling of being hugged by the celestial objects. It's just so mesmerizing, to leave and be in the room. Isn&#8217;t it?&#8221;</em></p><blockquote><p>Anant took his eyes away from the text and thought,<em> &#8220;This is why I liked her so much. She only understood what sky really was. She shared the same passion for the sky like mine. I&#8217;m really sure now, that this is her book, this is her writing.&#8221; </em>He broke into a smile and continued reading again.</p></blockquote><p>Rhea was gazing at Zen&#8217;s eyes that lit up as she spoke.</p><p><em>&#8220;That&#8217;s true, Zen. I wish it was possible for us to just live like this forever, going after what we cherish, what we care about so much, but this world sucks! This does sound interesting though. You have room for another person, under your majestic sky?&#8221;</em> Rhea asked, lost in Zen&#8217;s eyes, her face shining from the flashlight between them.</p><p>Zen&#8217;s face lit up and she said, <em>&#8220;Of course. There&#8217;s only one condition. We can&#8217;t talk to each other while reading. What would you do here though?</em></p><p><em>You don&#8217;t read novels. You know, you can just listen to songs, walk and gaze at the sky, or bring your textbooks or whatever you feel like doing. It feels awesome, especially when stars are there, but sometimes they don&#8217;t show up. But it still feels good; you&#8217;ll be compensated well with peace, while being here.</em></p><p><em>And yeah, the other rule is not to look at what one&#8217;s doing. That&#8217;s it. Just like we sit in our room doing our work.&#8221;</em></p><p>Rhea knew Zen well and she very much respected her boundaries and privacy. She thought, <em>&#8220;There&#8217;s something about her. That makes her special, different and even a bit annoying. How can I tell her now, what I meant to tell her while coming here? She seems occupied; I don&#8217;t want to ruin this moment of peace for her.&#8221;</em></p><p><em>&#8220;Well, firstly, do you really think I&#8217;m going to study on the terrace? Nah, never! Well, I&#8217;ll Walk, listen to songs and just gaze at the sky and city from here, but at a different time than yours.</em></p><p><em>We can&#8217;t be together here, we ought to have a time, just to ourselves, for an hour or so every day, otherwise we&#8217;d be bored of each other. Would you like that?&#8221; </em>Rhea said, her lips curved into a mysterious smile.</p><p><em>&#8220;Now, this is why you&#8217;re a bigger idiot than me. We spend most of our time in our respective classes. When are we together always, Ms. Rhea?&#8221;</em> Zen asked, sensing the feeling of being left out in Rhea&#8217;s voice because of Zen&#8217;s demand of privacy.</p><p>She felt sorry about that; Rhea was her best friend after all.</p><p><em>&#8220;I don&#8217;t want to take your time away from you and your dearest novels, Zen. I enjoy being in the AC more anyway, and I sleep early anyways, maybe the Sun would be my companion from tomorrow. I&#8217;ll come here during dawn; it&#8217;d be even more pleasant.</em></p><p><em>I won&#8217;t allow you at all then, even if you wake up really early, which I already know is never going to happen. You enjoy reading your novel, in the dark, under this flashlight. You create trouble yourself amidst all comfort.</em></p><p><em>You only enjoy your troubles. I&#8217;m going to go and watch &#8216;HOUSE&#8217;, with the lights off and the AC set to sixteen, under the blanket. It&#8217;s going to be fun.&#8221;</em> Rhea squeaked with joy saying the last sentence.</p><p><em>&#8220;I love you, my baby. You&#8217;re the best Rooh! I don&#8217;t know what I did to get a friend like you, my darling Rooh.&#8221;</em> Zen said, playfully in a dramatic way, with her lips pouted while saying &#8216;Rooh&#8217;, to show that she wanted to kiss, Rooh, to annoy her.</p><p><em>&#8220;Leave my hand, you idiot.&#8221;</em> Rhea said, laughing and pulling her hand away as Zen held it, not letting go.</p><p><em>&#8220;Okay, you want this only, don&#8217;t you? Here.&#8221;</em> She gave a peck on Zen&#8217;s cheek and quickly ran towards the door, her heartrate sped up for some reason. <br><em>People these days! They are getting really crazy after reading these novels. God forbid I ever start reading,&#8221;</em> she said jokingly to Zen and went downstairs, still anxious.</p><p>Zenith, left alone on the terrace with the flashlights still facing the sky, sighed.</p><div><hr></div><p>She looked up. There were few stars visible, the moon was absent today.</p><p>She said to the sky, thinking about Rhea,<em> &#8220;Huh! How can people be this kind?&#8221;</em> She gazed at the night sky, like she was searching for someone over there.</p><p>She heard a voice and moved her head towards it; it was Rhea at the door again.</p><p><em>&#8220;Rooh? You back? What happened to HOUSE?&#8221;</em> she asked Rhea, not playfully anymore.</p><p>She stood up, leaving behind her novel and the flashlight where they were and moved towards Rhea.</p><p><em><strong>&#8220;Rooh? Are you crying Rooh?&#8221;</strong></em> she asked anxiously, seeing Rhea&#8217;s welled-up eyes.</p><p>Rhea didn&#8217;t answer, just stood where she was, sobbing.</p><p>Zenith came closer to her and hugged her silently, realizing that something had happened.</p><p><em>&#8220;Talk to me Rooh! What happened? Is this about Castor?&#8221;</em> Zen asked, still hugging her from the side.</p><p>Rhea still couldn&#8217;t say anything. She was still sobbing, the tears no longer in her control.</p><p>They stood there like that for a few moments. Rhea then turned around and put her arms around Zen, hugging her tightly.</p><p>Zen also teared up, seeing her best friend like that.</p><p><em>&#8220;It&#8217;s not Castor, Zen. It&#8217;s me.&#8221; </em>Rhea said, her voice hoarse from crying.</p><p>She loosened her arm and looked into Zen&#8217;s confused eyes.</p><p>She moved towards the edge of the terrace, towards the railing.</p><p>The whole view of the city was visible from there.</p><p>Cars moving lined up behind each other, honking at each other, people getting in and out of them. Some people walking, some buying things from the roadside and hanging out. Some dressed up in fabulous coats, some in office suits and some in rags were visible, their head looking like small black balls moving randomly.</p><p>The noise from the angry vendors bargaining with the customer, and smell of &#8216;Momos&#8217; being sold across the street was also there. </p><p>The world was moving, at its own pace, like it always does, indifferent to Rhea&#8217;s feelings as she looked over it from the top of the building.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532555705039-f04fd833eb21?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8Y2FycyUyMG9uJTIwdGhlJTIwc3RyZWV0JTIwYXQlMjBuaWdodHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDY1NDU3MzZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" 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srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532555705039-f04fd833eb21?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8Y2FycyUyMG9uJTIwdGhlJTIwc3RyZWV0JTIwYXQlMjBuaWdodHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDY1NDU3MzZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532555705039-f04fd833eb21?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8Y2FycyUyMG9uJTIwdGhlJTIwc3RyZWV0JTIwYXQlMjBuaWdodHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDY1NDU3MzZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532555705039-f04fd833eb21?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8Y2FycyUyMG9uJTIwdGhlJTIwc3RyZWV0JTIwYXQlMjBuaWdodHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDY1NDU3MzZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1532555705039-f04fd833eb21?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxOHx8Y2FycyUyMG9uJTIwdGhlJTIwc3RyZWV0JTIwYXQlMjBuaWdodHxlbnwwfHx8fDE3NDY1NDU3MzZ8MA&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Matteo Modica</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>Zen also moved towards the railings and stood beside Rhea.</p><p><em>&#8220;What&#8217;s the matter Rooh? You can talk to me!&#8221;</em> Zen asked, putting her hand over Rhea&#8217;s on the railing.</p><p><em>&#8220;I think I am not the right fit for Castor. I think I should tell him to move on.&#8221; </em>Rhea spoke, staring down the building.</p><p><em>&#8220;But why? You guys are great together. Did he do something? Tell me and I&#8217;ll teach him a lesson. No one can hurt my Rooh.&#8221;</em> Zen said quickly, her fingers curled into a fist, and a deep furrow settled between her brows.</p><p><em>&#8220;No-no. He didn&#8217;t do anything. He&#8217;s the sweetest person I have ever met.&#8221; </em>She sighed looking into Zen&#8217;s concerned eyes.</p><p><em>&#8220;Then what, Rooh?&#8221;</em> Zen reciprocated.</p><p><em>&#8220;He&#8217;s too serious about this. I don&#8217;t want him to be serious. I can&#8217;t imagine my future with him. Not just him but anyone to be honest. And it hurts me a lot to look into his loving eyes, knowing I can&#8217;t go further from here.&#8221;</em> She turned towards the city; her eyes fixated on the moving cars again.</p><p><em>&#8220;But why? What&#8217;s stopping you? He&#8217;s the best and you both love each other so much, then why you want to leave him?&#8221; </em>Zen asked, her eyes demanding answer.</p><p><em><strong>&#8220;I&#8217;ll tell you. But promise to not look at me, not to feel pity, and never bring this topic ever again, anywhere, not even to me. You promise that first.&#8221; </strong></em>Rhea said, her voice as cold as the cold winds blowing.</p><p><em>&#8220;Okay Rooh! I promise.&#8221;</em> Zen said and moved closer to her, realizing this was something serious and put her arm around Rhea&#8217;s shoulder.</p><p>Rhea was unable to speak. She was still staring into nothingness, words finding it difficult to come out of her mouth.</p><div><hr></div><blockquote><p><em>&#8220;I was nine. A new tenant moved into our spare room on the third floor.</em></p><p><em>He was a student, preparing for competitive exams. I called him &#8216;Bhaiya&#8217;.</em></p><p><em>My parents trusted him, and I did too, naturally, just like I trusted every other person back then. He used to play with me, like the other tenants.</em></p><p><em>We used to play &#8216;catch-catch&#8217;, &#8216;name, place, animal and thing&#8217; and &#8216;tic-tac-toe' etc during my summer holidays. I used to go to his room, whenever bored. He was nice; didn&#8217;t yell at me for touching his books and pens lying around. I enjoyed being there. My parents didn&#8217;t mind too, knowing how much I used to get bored during the day, when I couldn&#8217;t sleep in the afternoon and everybody else slept.</em></p><p><em>This continued for a while, until one afternoon.&#8221;</em></p></blockquote><p>She paused, and her face went white, her eyes looking downwards, digging the ground below the car too with the stare. She couldn&#8217;t move; she seemed to have stopped breathing either.</p><p>Zen caressed Rhea&#8217;s shoulder, still confused, sensing something sinking in her abdomen.</p><blockquote><p>Rhea finally looked ahead, and inhaling a deep breath, she continued, &#8220;<em>Suddenly, he closed the door, didn&#8217;t lock it but closed it, blocking the sunlight, turning the room darker.</em></p><p><em>I was playing with his pens, when he came near me. He made me sit down on the bed and looked at me. He said that I was beautiful.</em></p><p><em>I said, &#8216;I know bhaiya! Everyone says so,&#8217;</em> <em>and smiled. He was still looking at me with a weird smile on his face.</em></p><p><em>I felt uncomfortable and tried to stand up, but he held my hand, tightly, tight enough to hurt.</em></p><p><em>I screamed &#8216;Ahh!&#8217; and he loosened his grip. I could still feel his eyes on me, even when I was looking at his feet coming closer.</em></p><p><em>He came closer....&#8221; </em>And saying this she burst into tears.</p><p>Zen was shocked, her eyes welled up too, she pulled Rhea closer and stayed silent, feeling a sinking feeling in her chest, her legs trembling too.</p><p>Still sobbing, Rhea continued, <em>&#8220;I jumped out of his bed; I sensed danger and tried running towards the door.</em></p><p><em>I didn&#8217;t understand anything, but I could sense danger, and all of a sudden I was so sad, I clearly remember it.</em></p><p><em>He was still holding my hand; he tried to grab my... chh..chest..!</em></p><p><em>He did, but then I bit his hand, and ran towards the door and straight to my mom downstairs.</em></p><p><em>I didn&#8217;t understand at all what happened. I didn&#8217;t even know that it was wrong. I just felt scared and felt like dying.</em></p><p><em>I lay on the bed, near my mom, and she tucked me closer to her, still sleeping, thinking I was just tired from the game and wanted to nap. But I hid my face in her arms, my heart beating so fast from the sprint I made while coming downstairs. For the first time, I sensed so much danger. I wasn&#8217;t crying; my home just no longer felt safe to me, like before.</em></p><p><em>And I fell asleep forcefully, clutching mom&#8217;s arms tightly.</em></p><p><em>I told my mom, I no longer wanted to go to his room to play, but she didn&#8217;t understand.</em></p><p><em>I told her again, and then she asked me, &#8216;Has anything happened?&#8217;, to which I told her the story. She couldn&#8217;t believe it at first and I had to repeat everything to her again and again. Then she realized the truth.</em></p><p><em>She didn&#8217;t say anything to him about it though. I don&#8217;t know why? Was she embarrassed or afraid, I don&#8217;t know.</em></p><p><em>Maybe because dad wasn&#8217;t home; he was on duty and was supposed to come two months later.</em></p><p><em>I just remember that guy leaving the room after a few days, after mom asked him to, saying our relatives were moving in and we needed more space.</em></p><p><em>I still resent her, sometimes, for not reporting or confronting him, for being weak at that point, but I felt safe after that.</em></p><p><em>A similar incident happened again a few days later, in my neighbour&#8217;s house.</em></p><p><em>I went to their home to borrow something and again, they had tenants too, and one of them, a bit more friendly towards me.</em></p><p><em>By then I understood, without anyone telling, that which is a good smile and which is a creepy one.</em></p><p><em>He had a creepy smile. He called me near him; I pretended not to listen. But then he was the one from whom I had to borrow that thing. I went near him, and again, he held my hand tightly. This time I knew. I dropped the bowl, pulled myself with all my strength and ran towards home.</em></p><p><em>I told my mom. She moved her head sideways and said, &#8216;These bachelor students are the worst. I&#8217;ll never send you there again. Don&#8217;t go out too, when he&#8217;s there.&#8217;&#8221;</em></p><p><em>&#8220;Can you imagine, I used to throw my bicycle on the road, whenever I saw him on the street?</em></p><p><em>I used to run away. I was deeply scared,&#8221;</em> she said clutching the railings tightly with her sweaty palms, her heart racing.</p></blockquote><blockquote><p><em>I feared any male who came to my house. I avoided them as much as I could, even if they were just guests.</em></p><p><em>It took me a long time to be normal again. I hated every single person on the street back then. I hated making eye contact with them and I hated the pens he used.</em></p><p><em>I still at all costs, avoid that f****** pen, it reminds me of him and his disgusting face and the disgusting thing he used to talk to me about which I didn&#8217;t even realize back then, until much later, when I grew up and knew the meaning of those words.</em></p><p><em>I hated every male out there, back then&#8221; </em>she paused, crying inconsolably, hiccups emerging with very breath.</p></blockquote><p>Zen was crying too. She could no longer hold her tears, a fury raging inside her, her heart beating angrily.</p><p>She was burning with rage under the skin, anger ready to explode and engulf the monster roaming somewhere out there.</p><p><strong>They both didn&#8217;t say anything for a while, just cried quietly in each other&#8217;s arms.</strong></p><div><hr></div><p>Rhea continued again, after a while, wiping the tears with Zen&#8217;s t-shirt.</p><p><em>&#8220;I don&#8217;t like Castor coming closer to me or trying to hold my hand. I don&#8217;t feel comfortable at all. I pull away then, and I couldn&#8217;t meet his eyes.</em></p><p><em>I couldn&#8217;t even talk to him for a whole day, sometimes two.</em></p><p><em>It hurts him; I can clearly see that, but I don&#8217;t want to hurt him any further. He&#8217;s lovely. He deserves better than being constantly hurt.</em></p><p><em>I can&#8217;t talk to him about it. </em></p><p><em>He doesn&#8217;t say anything, but he probably thinks that I don&#8217;t care enough, which is farther from the truth.</em></p><p><em>The truth is I don&#8217;t feel safe around him, or anyone else!&#8221; </em>Rhea took a pause and heaved a sigh.</p><p><em> &#8220;I don&#8217;t know if I could ever trust anyone again. And he shouldn&#8217;t have to wait for my explanations.</em></p><p><em>He&#8217;s my best friend, and I just want us to continue to be that way. I don&#8217;t want to lose him.</em></p><p><em> He respects my boundaries, and I also know he wouldn&#8217;t leave me on his own, even if all this continued despite him being hurt. </em></p><p><em>But I can&#8217;t see him hurt, Zen. </em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t want him to feel like he&#8217;s being taken an advantage of. </em></p><p><em>I can talk to him about everything, but not this and I don&#8217;t know why?&#8221;</em> Rhea said to Zen, looking at her face now.</p><p>&#8220;<em>I feel scared of him, when he comes closer. The features of his face suddenly turn different to me; it feels like he&#8217;s also one of them&#8212;<strong>a demon. </strong></em></p><p><em>I don&#8217;t know what he feels about the idea of staying close, as friends, and never coming closer. And I don&#8217;t know if it&#8217;s okay with him or not, but I no longer want to mislead him. </em></p><p><em>Also, I don&#8217;t know how much time it would take me to ever be normal around all this.&#8221; </em></p><p>Rhea continued, still looking at Zen, her eyes demanding an answer to the questions she knew she didn&#8217;t want to hear right now. </p><div><hr></div><p>Zen&#8217;s face showed grief, her eyes were furious, and she was clutching the loose end of her t-shirt firmly. She was silent.</p><p>She still was not able to absorb what she just heard, about her best friend; something she was so deeply hiding inside her, from such a long time, suffering alone without a hint of any sort on her face.</p><p>She felt a knife stabbing her heart inside, words not coming out of her mouth.</p><p><em>&#8220;I moved on a long time ago, Zen. Don&#8217;t you worry. I&#8217;m fine.</em></p><p><em>This is why I don&#8217;t like talking about it. People get so silent. The silence I hate, which constantly becomes a reminder of something horrible.&#8221;</em> Rhea said to Zen, noticing her concern and the tear marks on her cheeks dried up by the wind.</p><p><em>&#8220;So, this is why you don&#8217;t like even my touching you? And this is why you pull away when I try to hug you sometimes? I am sorry Rooh! I didn&#8217;t know at all. That stupid B******!&#8221; </em>she said to Rhea, her palm folded into a fist.</p><p><em>&#8220;It&#8217;s totally fine Zen. I feel safe around you. Just sometimes, I feel weird and that&#8217;s why I pull away. It&#8217;s not your fault Zen. Now forget all about it, like you promised.&#8221;</em> Rhea asked Zenith, looking at her with a promising expression.</p><p>Zen couldn&#8217;t say anything, but mustered enough courage and said,<em> &#8220;You can talk to Castor, Rooh! He would understand. He&#8217;s a nice guy.&#8221;</em></p><p><em>&#8220;I guess I must tell him now. I will just explain everything, and the rest it is up to him. He is free to walk out. I&#8217;m okay with it.</em></p><p><em>I&#8217;ll probably write a letter to him. I can&#8217;t tell him face to face or on call. He loves letters anyway. I&#8217;ll write to him.&#8221; </em>Rhea said, in a calming way, sighing.</p><p><em>&#8220;How old is your younger sister?&#8221; </em>Zen asked, her brows furrowed, and her eyes fixated on the wall behind Rhea.</p><p><em><strong>&#8220;Twelve.&#8221;</strong></em> Rhea said, not caring why she asked.</p><p><em>&#8220;Did you teach her about good and bad touch?&#8221;</em> Zen asked, leaning over the railing now.</p><p><em>&#8220;<strong>Yes, when she was three</strong>. I never want her to be unaware and be a victim of all this. No child, no human deserves it. I think of rape victims sometimes.</em></p><p><em>I can&#8217;t comprehend their pain. I no longer think about them frequently; it hurts. It&#8217;s the living and breathing reality, but it hurts just to think. I don&#8217;t know how they go through that.</em></p><p><em>I wish those monsters, go through that very same pain someday. They keep roaming freely on the streets after that.</em></p><p><em>What a shame! I hate this world and the system you know.&#8221; </em>She said, looking down, tears falling down her cheeks again.</p><p>Zen looked at her silently, didn&#8217;t move from where she was standing, and just watched her tears falling like rain drops from the building. She didn&#8217;t try to console her. She remembered something from the novel she was reading.</p><p>That&#8217;s how just being in someone&#8217;s silence meant so much more than trying to say &#8216;it&#8217;s okay&#8217; and consoling them.</p><p>They both stood there frozen, their minds blank, until they heard thunder and lightning among the clouds above them.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1431440869543-efaf3388c585?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx0aHVuZGVyfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NjU0NTc4M3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" 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src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1431440869543-efaf3388c585?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx0aHVuZGVyfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NjU0NTc4M3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="5184" height="3456" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1431440869543-efaf3388c585?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx0aHVuZGVyfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NjU0NTc4M3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:3456,&quot;width&quot;:5184,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;photography of lightning storm&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="photography of lightning storm" title="photography of lightning storm" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1431440869543-efaf3388c585?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx0aHVuZGVyfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NjU0NTc4M3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1431440869543-efaf3388c585?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx0aHVuZGVyfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NjU0NTc4M3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1431440869543-efaf3388c585?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx0aHVuZGVyfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NjU0NTc4M3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1431440869543-efaf3388c585?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw0fHx0aHVuZGVyfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NjU0NTc4M3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.1.0&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Breno Machado</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><div><hr></div><p><em>&#8220;Let&#8217;s go down Rooh. It feels like it&#8217;s about to rain.&#8221;</em> Zen finally broke the silence.</p><p><em>&#8220;Yeah. Let&#8217;s go.&#8221; </em>Rhea said, turning around and picking up Zen&#8217;s novel and the phone. It&#8217;s flashlight was still on its light felt like almost touching the sky.</p><p>Zen came closer too and they both started walking towards the door.</p><p><em>&#8220;The room does feel claustrophobic. The air in there is heavy.</em></p><p><em>Your sky is indeed majestic, Zen. It held space for my confession too, right? Now, I love your Sky too, Zen.&#8221; </em>Rhea said, taking Zen&#8217;s hands into her, and looked up at the sky.</p><p>Wind brushed both of their faces and messed their hair. They both seemed too tired to react, but a smile broke out on both of their faces, when they looked at each other.</p><p><em>&#8220;Well, I am fine being your baby. I love you too baby.&#8221;</em> Rhea said to Zen, clutching her hand even more tightly and smiled.</p><p><em>&#8220;You&#8217;re and will be my baby forever, my darling Rooh.&#8221;</em> Zen said, looking at her friend lovingly.</p><p><strong>CHAPTER 6<sup>th</sup> ended.</strong></p><div><hr></div><p>Anant couldn&#8217;t believe his eyes at what he had just read.</p><p>He felt a heavy dark cloud of silence surrounding him. He closed the book and became still, not able to comprehend anything.</p><p><em>&#8220;Did Taara write it?&#8221;</em></p><p><em>&#8220;Did it happen to....T-a-a-ra?&#8221;</em></p><p><em>&#8220;Is this the reason she hated the idea of love, dating and marriage? This can&#8217;t be Taara.</em></p><p><em>I know her. This isn&#8217;t her. I hope this isn&#8217;t her,&#8221; he thought to himself standing on the balcony, in the drizzle looking at the sky, not caring about being drenched, tears flowing down his eyes along with the rain</em>.</p><p><em>&#8220;She...&#8221;</em> he choked.</p><p>He wanted to think something, but his mind was numb, still processing the text he just read.</p><p>He stood there in the balcony, getting absolutely drenched. He couldn&#8217;t think of anything at all.</p><p>He just remembered something, and he stood straight, startled. <em>&#8220;I held her hand that day, while we were walking in that park. She pulled away, right? She was startled and when I looked at her, she was looking down, with no expressions on her face. I didn&#8217;t understand it then. We walked quietly after that. I felt embarrassed, but neither did I say anything, nor did she.&#8221;</em></p><p>With grief visible on his face, he clutched the railings of the balcony tightly and turned his head down. <em>&#8220;This is why we slowly drifted apart; she talked less and less and ignored me more and more. Now it makes sense,</em>&#8221; he closed his eyes shut and whispered, <em>&#8220;Ohh, Taara!&#8221; </em>under his breath.</p><p>He went inside; his clothes completely soaked from the rain and went to the bathroom to get changed. </p><p>His mind was still stuck on the book and her. He came out of the bathroom, looking fresh and wiped his wet footprints across the room, quickly, with the mop, his mind somewhere else. </p><p>He then sat on the table and started writing something.</p><p>He was writing a letter to Taara, her phone number and addresses etched in his memory, unlike the texts he had already deleted.</p><p>He tried to write down everything he felt but wasn&#8217;t sure how.</p><p>After asking about her well-being and congratulating her on the book, he was blank, even after his emotions were overflowing.</p><p>He didn&#8217;t know what to say. He just wanted to write something, but words weren&#8217;t coming out. He tore the letter and opened her chat on the phone again.</p><p><em>&#8220;I shouldn&#8217;t be desperate to talk to her now? Didn&#8217;t I see that promise she took from Zenith? She wouldn&#8217;t like to talk about it, especially, to me.</em>&#8221; he thought to himself and just stared at his phone for a few moments.</p><p><em>&#8220;You know what? Screw it. I am going to just send a &#8216;Hi&#8217;.&#8221;</em></p><p>He typed<em> &#8216;Heyy&#8217;, but</em> then cleared it, his fingers were trembling.</p><p>He threw the phone on the bed and looked at the book.</p><p><em>&#8220;I am going to pretend this is not her, but &#8216;NAINA&#8217; as it is published. This isn&#8217;t my Taara.&#8221;</em> he thought leaning back on his chair.</p><p>He thought again, <em>&#8216;I am never going to hurt Taara. Never again! I am going to call her tomorrow morning, and I wouldn&#8217;t mention the book at all.&#8217;</em></p><p><em><strong>&#8220;I&#8217;m going to call her, Anant. I am. She was my best friend; I owe her this much. I hope she&#8217;d be okay.&#8221;</strong></em></p><p>He stretched his arms and looked up at the ceiling fan. The slow, elegant, movements of the blade, calmed him. He still was thinking about the book.</p><p> &#8220;<em>I am ashamed of people in our society like that f****** b*******. They are the f****** reason, men are assumed to be dangerous. We are not being dangerous to a**** like him and we would be dangerous towards females?  </em></p><p><em>I wish I could kill him right now. I wish I could just change the system somehow, so that these stupid, a******* would think at least a thousand times, before doing something like this. I don&#8217;t what goes inside their f****** brain.&#8221; </em>His heart was thumping loudly against his chest, and he thumped the table with his fist, with the same energy. </p><p>The table shook loudly, but he didn&#8217;t move an inch. His hand was still vibrating from the pain, but he didn&#8217;t care, rage etching under his skin. </p><p>He closed his eyes again and took a deep breath.</p><p>Taara&#8217;s beautiful black eyes appeared before him. He could feel the smell of her, her hair, somehow, and he became lost in them.</p><div><hr></div><blockquote><p><strong>Ps</strong>:-<strong> </strong><em><strong>If you have kids at home- siblings, students, cousins, juniors etc. Teach them about good and bad touch. It&#8217;s very necessary for kids to be aware about their body and rights from as early as possible. Listen to them always if they ever complain and teach them to report any such incidents immediately. Schools, a lot of times, shy away from teaching this stuff to the kids and they fall victim. It&#8217;s our responsibility as adults, to teach them the right thing, only then we can bring the change. </strong></em></p></blockquote><div><hr></div><p>If you made it till here, thank you so much for reading. It really means a world to me. Thank you for your time and patience.</p><div><hr></div><p>Until next time, </p><p>Take Care  &lt;3,</p><p>Stay safe and spread awareness!</p><p>And most importantly, do not forget to drink water throughout the day, summers have arrived, no. You don&#8217;t want to be unconscious, from the heat stroke, while talking to your crush right? ( Just trying to make you smile, don&#8217;t mind, lol.)</p><p>Seeya soon in the next one. </p><p></p><p></p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! 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(PART-3)]]></title><description><![CDATA["Tears, Headache, and Everything Left Unsaid."]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-3</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-3</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Mon, 28 Apr 2025 18:55:50 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F645f7ce8-8022-4370-a232-c1725ddd4901_1024x1536.png" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" 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fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">MARK ADRIANE</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-70628e2bdd18?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Link to PART-1&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-70628e2bdd18?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false"><span>Link to PART-1</span></a></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-part-2?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Link to PART-2&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-part-2?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false"><span>Link to PART-2</span></a></p><p></p><p><strong>Disclaimer- This may seem too long and there might be some grammatical or other errors, but this piece is pretty close to my heart. Kindly read it first and then judge it. Don&#8217;t judge this post by  it&#8217;s length. Lastly, this is fictional, any similarity to real life is just a coincidence. Enjoy your read. </strong></p><p><strong>Lights off, front door locked, the noise of the moving ceiling fan faintly audible from the outside. Somebody is knocking on the door, talking to someone on the phone simultaneously, calling out &#8216;Open the door! Shreee?&#8217; repeatedly. When nobody answered the door, the knocking got harder, but still no response.</strong></p><p>&#8216;<em>Don&#8217;t worry Uncle. She must be sleeping. I&#8217;ll wake her up and then call you back. Don&#8217;t worry.&#8217;</em> The girl behind the door said disconnecting the call.</p><p>She knocked again, harder this time, called out her name even louder but the door was still locked. <em>&#8216;What&#8217;s the matter with her? Her dad will call again in five minutes. Maybe I should just inform the owner.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Sister Muskan, you are here? Here&#8217;s your food. I was about to call you since you weren&#8217;t in your room. Call out sister Shree please, I am in bit of a hurry.</em>&#8217; A boy, with slim figure, weary smile, cap worn backside on his head, wearing a shirt drenched in sweat, with a big sac filled with silver-colored foil packets of roti and curries and rice, packed in individual plastic bags, in his hands, asked the girl with frustrated expression standing behind the door that still wasn&#8217;t open.</p><p><em>&#8216;You&#8217;re just in time Bhaiya. I was about to call the owner. Shree is not opening her door. I have been calling her, her dad has been calling her, but neither she is answering the call, nor opening the door. You try knocking and calling her once, otherwise I call the owner. Her dad&#8217;s really worried.&#8217;</em> She said taking her food packets from his hand and moving towards her room, in the hallway.</p><p><em>&#8216;Sister Shree? Shree sister!! Open the door. The food is here. I will go if you won&#8217;t open the door now. Don&#8217;t call me later then, I won&#8217;t bring the food later!</em>&#8217; He said on top of his voice and banging the door loudly.</p><p>The thump on the door was loud enough this time to startle the person sleeping inside. Shree slightly opened her eyes, the lights coming in through the slightly open balcony door, made her freshly awake eyes squint. She almost fell from the bed when she turned on her side, forgetting that it&#8217;s not a wide bed like the one she&#8217;s used to at home. Luckily, she put her feet on the floor, on time, before her body was disbalanced. She fell asleep in a bun which was barely a bun now, strands of hair coming out of it in all the directions.</p><p>She moves towards the door hearing the person behind it.</p><p>As she opened the door, Muskan also emerged in the hallway, with phone tucked between her neck and ears, saying &#8216;<em>Yes- Yes Uncle. I am going to try again.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Here you are! What were you doing? I have been calling you. I called so many time, your dad called several times, the owner was about to get involved. What were you doing?&#8217; </em>She firmly, asked Shree, taking the phone down in her hands again.</p><p><em>&#8216;Uncle, she was sleeping. She&#8217;s alright. Don&#8217;t worry now. I am asking her to call you back. No need of thank you uncle. It&#8217;s my duty. Namaste!&#8217; </em>Muskan said disconnecting the call.</p><p>&#8216;S<em>orry di, I was sleeping. I don&#8217;t know when I fell asleep. I had a bad headache, so I just lied down turning off the lights, but didn&#8217;t know when I was in deep sleep. You were calling? Dad called? My phone must be on silent.&#8217; </em>She said checking for her phone in her pockets.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Take food first sister. I&#8217;m in a hurry.&#8217;</em> The person with the sac said handing over one packet of roti, curry and rice respectively to her.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Bhaiya, can I get one more pack of rice. I need it for tomorrow.&#8217;</em> Shree asked him hurriedly as he was moving through the hallway and almost reaching the stairs.</p><p>He stopped at the first step and looking at her said, &#8216;<em>Sorry di, don&#8217;t have extra pack today, still have to distribute these in many rooms yet&#8217; </em>and hurried downstairs.</p><p><em>&#8216;Listen here first. Don&#8217;t sleep like that. And who sleeps before 8? Don&#8217;t put your phone on silent again otherwise your family starts panicking so soon.</em>&#8217; Muskan said, furiously, trying to be calm.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Sorry for the trouble. I&#8217;ll make sure it won&#8217;t happen again. How&#8217;s your college though today?</em>&#8217; Shree asked her to change the subject.</p><p>Muskan also cooled down and they did a small chitchat for some time and went towards their respective rooms, on the different sides of the hallway.</p><p>As Shree entered her dark room, dimly lit by light coming from the balcony and the front door, she put down the packets of food onto her study table and looked for her phone on the bed, without turning the lights back on.</p><p>She felt the length of the bed, on the wall side, through her palms, only to find it under the pillow. <strong>17 missed calls from her dad, 6 missed calls from Muskan, and 5 missed video calls from her dad again, </strong>popped up on the screen as she turned it on.</p><p>She again lay down on the bed, the front door open this time, and called her dad. Her dad picked up immediately.</p><div><hr></div><p>&#8216;S<em>orryyy Papa, I was asleep. I put the phone on silent in the class and forgot to turn it back on, that&#8217;s why I couldn&#8217;t pick up. I&#8217;m alright, just very tired, I didn&#8217;t even know when I fell asleep.&#8217;</em> Shree said everything in a single breath, knowing the question her dad was going to ask.</p><p>&#8216;<em>We were so worried. Your mom was saying that she might be asleep but she too was getting frantic. Phone is our only support now Shree, please pick it up when we call,&#8217; </em>her dad said to her, a sense of worry and relief, could be sensed from his tone, at the same time.</p><p><em>&#8216;Why did you sleep so early today Shree? Don&#8217;t you know your dad? He can&#8217;t settle down unless he talks to you before dinner and before sleeping. Here I have served him his food, but does the food have audacity to tempt him to eat right now? He wanted to make sure you&#8217;re safe first.</em>&#8217; Her mother spoke to Shree, on the phone, from a distance.</p><p><em>&#8216;My head was aching very badly today. I just lied down, I didn&#8217;t mean to sleep. I haven&#8217;t had dinner yet, how I could have slept this early?&#8217; </em>Shree told her mother, trying to hide her throat getting hoarse as her eyes welled up with tears.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Did you take medicine? If it&#8217;s not there, go and buy one. You have a test tomorrow, right? Take medicine and study now. Your dreams are the reason for everything happening right now, otherwise could I have let you out of my sight for a sec?&#8217; </em>Her mother said, her voice louder, she must had moved near the phone this time.</p><p><em>&#8216;Let her say, don&#8217;t listen to her. If it&#8217;s bad, just take medicine with food and sleep. First comes your health, whatever would happen, it&#8217;s alright. You don&#8217;t worry and just take care of yourself.&#8217; </em>Her dad said to her in a worrisome voice.</p><p><em>&#8216;Yes papa, I&#8217;ll eat dinner and then would try revising a concept. I am fine don&#8217;t worry. You take care of mamma and you.</em>&#8217; Shree said trying to hide her choking voice, tears flowed down her cheeks.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Okay, okay, have dinner quickly now. We would also eat now; we were waiting for your call. And put your phone on normal now, don&#8217;t forget again.&#8217; </em>Her mom said to Shree.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Yes mamma, I&#8217;ll also eat now. Good night! Would call in the morning.</em>&#8217; Shree said, trying to end the call quickly, before she no longer could hold herself.</p><p>&#8216;<em><strong>Good night Shree! Take care!</strong></em>&#8217; Her mom and dad said together and ended the call.</p><p>Shree put the phone down and looking at the food on her desk, wrapped in plastic, she burst out.</p><p>She was silent, lights still off, she put her fingers on her temples and pressed them tight, her eyes squinted and the pressure band on her forehead increased manifold. &#8216;Gosh! How bad it is aching? What do I do?&#8217; she thought to herself, tears still flowing.</p><p><em>&#8216;It&#8217;s alright Shree! It&#8217;s just a headache. You&#8217;re crying and that&#8217;s why it is aching. Stop crying Shree, it&#8217;s okay. We have got this,&#8217;</em> she whispered to herself trying to pacify her and reached for a bag, opposite to the bed.</p><div><hr></div><p></p><p>She tried searching for her medicine inside a cluttered pouch. The darkness in the room made it harder to look, she still kept the lights off and instead turned on the phone&#8217;s flashlight. She squeezed her eyes in pain, the light seemed to make it worse, after much rattling, she found the pill, the last one in the wrapper, and widened her eyes, to see beyond the blurry vision, tears still not stopping.</p><p>She reached for the water bottle on her desk, only to find that there&#8217;s not sufficient left to last till morning. She swallowed the pill with whatever was left and crashed on the bed.</p><p>&#8216;<em>I will fill it in the morning. I can&#8217;t go downstairs right now.&#8217;</em> She murmured but then again rose up with much difficulty, wiped her tears, fixed her hair, and headed downstairs to fill the water bottle.</p><p>Her eyes felt heavy, her heart banging in her head, she stepped down and almost fell. Thankfully, she grabbed the railings and wasn&#8217;t hurt, only her bottle fell and rolled down all the way to the next floor.</p><p>She hurriedly went after it, picked it up before it rolled down further and went to refill it from the purifier. The purifier had a pungent smell from the unclean utensils lying around it, the smell amplified the pain bit more, but she tried ignoring and quickly filled it up before anyone could see her and a small talk had to be initiated.</p><p>She went back to her room in quick steps; the light felt like knife to her eyes at this point. The darkness of her room felt much better. She locked the door behind her and the balcony door, turned on the AC, and drank half of the bottle in one go and landed on her bed again.</p><p><em><strong>&#8216;I&#8217;ll turn it off in 30 minutes, I really need to sleep. This headache&#8217;s killing me today,&#8217; </strong></em>she thought to herself and looked for her phone around the pillow. She put an alarm for after 30 minutes and closed her eyes. The room has gotten totally dark now, only the white glare of the streetlight was visible slightly in the translucent window.</p><p>She put a towel, lying around in the bed already, on her eyes to cut off the further light and massaged her forehead in vain. Her heart was still banging against her chest, and she was breathing fast.</p><p><em>&#8216;God! What do I do now? I can&#8217;t even lay down still.</em>&#8217; she said out loud and turned on her side.</p><p>She took another pillow and hugged it tight, trying to slow down the heart and her pulsating temples. The AC finally started the cooling, and she felt bit relieved. She got on her back again, the pillow still on her chest, she tried to feel the smell of the detergent on the pillow cover, her mom washed, before packing it up for her.</p><p>The smell was barely there as it was washed almost a month ago, but it felt like a one thing from home to her. She brought the pillow closer to her face, put towel on her eyes again and closed her eyes, countless barely distinguishable images and voices were running in her head. She tried to not to listen to them and became still, hands around the pillow on her chest and she started taking deep slow breaths. The headache was still killing her, the voices still audible but ambiguous, she continued with the deep breaths and fell asleep after some time.</p><p><em><strong>Shree was deep in sleep now, and her face looked too innocent.</strong></em></p><div><hr></div><p><em><strong>A layer of oil on her face was visible, she didn&#8217;t even wash her face, like she usually did before sleep. It must have been a long day, suggested the clothes lying on top of her coaching-bag and the books scattered on the shelf, which never really stayed out of place ever. Her face looked tired, her abdomen appeared sunken, but she was calm now, looking like a baby who cried themselves to sleep, with marks of dried-up tears still present on her cheeks.</strong></em></p><p>Shree, lying on her stomach, pillow still tucked between her hand and chest on the side, rolled and turned to her side, and brought her knees closer to her chest, seeking the warmth. She turned again and again and after some time, when she couldn&#8217;t find any comfortable position, she became conscious.</p><p>She opened her eyes to a pitch-dark room. It took her a minute to figure out why was she awake, before she realized that she forgot to switch off the AC. She rose up in fear and immediately switched it off, panicking about her mistake.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Oh no..no, no, no..&#8217;</em> she said while looking at the time on her phone. It was 3 am, her room was perfectly chilled that she needed a bedsheet or something to cover her.</p><p><em>&#8216;What do I do now? How did I forget it?</em>&#8217; She murmured while counting, for how many hours was the AC switched on, on her fingers.</p><p><em>&#8216;Oh nooo!</em>!&#8217; she said almost crying, &#8216;<em>The electricity bill will definitely reach up to a thousand ruppees now. How would I tell dad? I know he won&#8217;t say anything but 1000 extra on top of rent is huge. I shouldn&#8217;t have switched it on in the first place.&#8217; </em>She thought to herself and reached for her phone, the alarm was dismissed by her in sleep, and she didn&#8217;t realize.</p><p>She sighed and went back on the bed. She put her palm on her forehead, felt calm on the realization that her head was no longer aching, just felt heavy.</p><p>She recalled all that happened last night. She was much better than before. Her heart was still slightly pacing, due to her sudden waking up, but it was also much quieter now. She turned on her phone again and looked for any updates or texts.</p><p>Nothing important, except owner&#8217;s text reminding that her rent is due in few days and text in the class group informing the timings for the test next day, was there. She checked them and without thinking much, scrolled past them, like it was something routine, something she&#8217;s very accustomed to.</p><div><hr></div><p>She missed her best friend, Shashi. They hadn&#8217;t talked in a while and somewhere Shree resented Shashi, for not missing her, or caring about little things as much as she did. She couldn&#8217;t blame Shashi either, both of their lives went under drastic changes, and a lot was going on in both of their lives. She missed Shashi but even when they called, she didn&#8217;t know what to say, the distance between them pained her.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!OaC6!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F645f7ce8-8022-4370-a232-c1725ddd4901_1024x1536.png" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!OaC6!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F645f7ce8-8022-4370-a232-c1725ddd4901_1024x1536.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!OaC6!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F645f7ce8-8022-4370-a232-c1725ddd4901_1024x1536.png 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class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">AI generated.</figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>Shree opened her profile and thought to herself, <em>&#8216;Maybe, I am not enough. I really am such a weirdo, who can&#8217;t accept things easily. Why I put a blame on her? She doesn&#8217;t care, because maybe I don&#8217;t show enough care or interest. That&#8217;s why she probably likes to talk or hang out with others, more than me. I don&#8217;t like sharing her. This is so mean. What the hell Shree? Why do I even think like this? Why do I always try to seek everyone&#8217;s attention? I don&#8217;t like this desperate behavior of mine. If somebody doesn&#8217;t want to talk as much as you do, then it&#8217;s okay, accept it and stop chasing. Why the hell I keep chasing people?&#8217;</em></p><p>A loop of thought started in her mind and picture of Shashi and Shyam appeared before her like a slow transition video.</p><p>Shyam, the online friend of hers, whom she thought to be very mature, kind, practical and sorted, and who was also the sort of first guy, outside of her classmates and acquaintance, whom she talked openly.</p><p><em>He was working, so she estimated that he was much older than her and that she must talk very respectfully to him. She liked the conversations they had, she liked to know what he wanted to tell and more, she liked his presence online, and basically, she looked up to him and looked forward to his calls or texts.</em></p><p>They didn&#8217;t talk much, which pained her discretely, and which she never accepted. They talked once in a week, once in two weeks and sometimes once in a month. She used to patiently wait but didn&#8217;t have enough courage to ask for a call directly.</p><p>She used to text him, the reply, which she eventually realized, would usually come at a fixed time of the day, no matter at what time she texted. She tried hard to not care, would log out of the app, would try switching off the internet but eventually, out of habit, she used to give in and again check for his text repeatedly, which made her feel more guilty and desperate later.</p><p>They didn&#8217;t talk much about anything, just random talk that you would do upon meeting a stranger on a train, but she somehow still liked it very much. She felt like she was the one who talked much more than needed, overshared her stuff, and that he didn&#8217;t say much, that he didn&#8217;t want to disclose anything personal, anything out of boundary of general knowledge.</p><p>She felt bad for her behavior as she clearly understood that she was doing nothing except embarrassing her and wasting his time, but she didn&#8217;t want to lose him, the one whom he started considering a good but distant friend, too.</p><p>She opened his profile and saw the text she earlier sent was still unseen, as expected. She stared at it for few seconds and put the phone away. <em>&#8216;I wish I didn&#8217;t care like him, didn&#8217;t worry about people replying or not replying, people remembering or not remembering me. I just wish I was as sensible as him and didn&#8217;t think about any random thing much. I don&#8217;t want to talk to him further; I am born to be alone. Handling friendships and being a good friend is not my cup of tea,&#8217;</em> she sighed, remembering how many times she had thought about it earlier, and failed, but the desire to detach was deep and painfully strong, but it was this way always.</p><p><em><strong>A slideshow of the incidents that happened during the day also appeared before her eyes. Hard time at understanding concepts in class, then feeling of doubt and guilt on not being able to solve the questions later in a different class, when most of the other kids solved it quickly and then her standing 15 minutes under the sun, waiting for the bus which was slightly less crowded, the sweaty and oil dripping from her face while she was on the bus, then after finally reaching on her room, the lunch was not enough to suit her appetite, then her checking for the texts desperately, waiting for his reply and Shashi&#8217;s text to ask Shree how&#8217;s she doing, and then getting frustrated over bad wifi, and no texts from anyone furthermore, and then her angrily crashing on the bed, which got heated up from all the heat, the fan circulating only warm air, and her urge to use the AC but then not using it, and finally falling asleep, in that burning heat and that too in the same t-shirt she wore to her classes, the start of the headache and again her restlessness over texts and the replaying conversation with Shyam, Shashi, her classmates in her mind and many more small details of the day appeared before her eyes.</strong></em></p><p>She felt like she was feeling super-hot all over again but then realized that the AC did work and it was much nicer now. Her skin felt sticky, she caressed her left hand a bit and closed her eyes again, thinking, &#8216;<em>It&#8217;s alright Shree, we would take a nice bath tomorrow, It would be alright. I&#8217;m here shree,&#8217;</em> a tear flowed down her cheek as the sentence ended. She composed herself and took deep breaths, pulled the pillow from her side, onto her chest again, and hugged it tightly. <em><strong>&#8216;It&#8217;s alright, we have got this,&#8217;</strong></em> she said to herself.</p><p><em>&#8216;Should I sleep now or should I start studying for the test?</em>&#8217; her heart got a kick on the thought of the test.</p><p>She woke up and went towards her table, switched on the lights, and once again the brightness stinged her eyes, much less than before but it was there.</p><p>Her dinner was still lying, wrapped in plastic and foil, untouched on the table. She remembered that she didn&#8217;t eat last night.</p><p>&#8216;<em>This must be spoiled now. How much food I am wasting here! At home, we didn&#8217;t waste even a single roti and here, I am throwing a whole portion,</em>&#8217; she said, picking up the packets from the table and throwing them away in the dustbin.</p><p>The grease from the curry packet and flour particles, was smeared on the table.</p><div><hr></div><p>&#8216;<em>How we are supposed to eat this oily and spicy food each day? No wonder my stomach is feeling bloated and weird always. The rotis, are they even made from wheat flour? They appear blacker than the cream-colored ones, they are supposed to look like. And they give us only three of them, each so small to be finished in two normal bites and on asking upon more, they say they don&#8217;t have extra. They are clearly cutting so much costs in these, without considering our health. I feel like all the money is just going to waste. I am not able to study well, I am not able to do things I thought I would be doing, we are not even getting good food, it was clearly a bad decision.&#8217; </em>She murmured to herself while wiping the table surface with an old, torn piece of cloth.</p><p>She finally sat down to study and opened her notebook. She realized she had to finish her class notes from earlier too. She started shaking her right leg unconsciously and her chest tightened slightly.</p><p>As she started writing, she thought about studying for the test first. She switched the chapter and started revising. A few concepts were easy, and she quickly sailed through them, but when she reached to a slightly complicated topic, she felt stuck.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Sir said to just memorize what you can&#8217;t understand and not waste too much time unnecessarily as there is lot of things to cover. But how can I memorize it if I don&#8217;t know how this works? It&#8217;s hard to memorize even and I am pretty sure in the next chapter, when this concept would be used, I would be stuck again,&#8217; </em>she thought to herself and looked for some simple explanation on youtube.</p><p>She watched few of them, but none seemed to explain things clearly and in detail. She felt bad, for not grasping it like the other kids in her class. But then tried to read from textbook again.</p><p>An hour went by like this and it was already 4.30 in the morning. She didn&#8217;t get the concept, tired of brainstorming and guilty of wasting time on looking for an unnecessary derivation, she moved towards the balcony.</p><p>As she unlocked the door, a sense of coolness was felt on her face and skin. She felt refreshed looking at the sky.</p><div><hr></div><p>&#8216;<em>The buildings are blocking the view. I should go on the terrace; it&#8217;s been a long time since I woke up this early,&#8217; s</em>he thought to herself and took her phone from the desk and went outside of her room, locking the door behind her, moving towards the terrace.</p><p>Her abdomen felt like a tight stretched balloon, her chest felt warm from the inside, probably from the stomach acid, her heart still seemed to be doing it&#8217;s morning jog.</p><p>She reached the terrace and the violet-colored sky turning into sky blue, whiteness getting smeared on it like an artist somewhere in the sky is mixing two colors, from his paintbrush. She looked up, her lips curved into a tiny smile, her forehead relaxed, and she inhaled a long breath.</p><p>She walked around the terrace, listening to the birds, few of which sounded like the ones in her town.</p><p>She thought of calling her mom and dad, but considering it was still bit early, she didn&#8217;t.</p><p>She turned on some songs on her phone, thinking, <em>&#8216;I would see the sunrise today, till then would walk only. I shouldn&#8217;t be listening to songs this early, otherwise I would crave them whole day&#8217;</em>, but then &#8216;<strong>Alag Aasmaan&#8217;</strong> started playing and she went with it, dismissing the thought.</p><p>The song lifted her mood entirely and she was feeling much better, her eyes, still sore and heavy from all the crying yesterday, also felt lighter.</p><p>The sky turned bright blue in sometime and she could see the orange light covering one patch of blue now. The sun was about to rise and the sight had soothed her.</p><p>A tiny portion of sun was visible now, it felt like sun was emerging out of water, lighting up the sky more and more, as it rose.</p><p>She took a picture, when sun only half emerged, the lighting felt perfect at that moment, but when she looked at what was captured, she realized that the beauty of the sky and sun couldn&#8217;t be captured well enough from her phone.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kKXL!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2b3ba119-87ee-4a7c-ae5a-855823082228_2048x1536.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kKXL!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2b3ba119-87ee-4a7c-ae5a-855823082228_2048x1536.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kKXL!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2b3ba119-87ee-4a7c-ae5a-855823082228_2048x1536.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kKXL!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2b3ba119-87ee-4a7c-ae5a-855823082228_2048x1536.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kKXL!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2b3ba119-87ee-4a7c-ae5a-855823082228_2048x1536.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kKXL!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2b3ba119-87ee-4a7c-ae5a-855823082228_2048x1536.jpeg" width="1456" height="1092" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2b3ba119-87ee-4a7c-ae5a-855823082228_2048x1536.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:1092,&quot;width&quot;:1456,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:82707,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/i/162350739?img=https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2b3ba119-87ee-4a7c-ae5a-855823082228_2048x1536.jpeg&quot;,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kKXL!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2b3ba119-87ee-4a7c-ae5a-855823082228_2048x1536.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kKXL!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2b3ba119-87ee-4a7c-ae5a-855823082228_2048x1536.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kKXL!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2b3ba119-87ee-4a7c-ae5a-855823082228_2048x1536.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kKXL!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2b3ba119-87ee-4a7c-ae5a-855823082228_2048x1536.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Author&#8217;s own image</figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>Upon realizing that sun was still rising and that she was missing the event, she quickly put the phone in her pocket and focused on the view. She felt so rejuvenated as the orange rays of sun fell upon her skin.</p><p><em>&#8216;I&#8217;ll give my best today,&#8217; </em>she promised to the sun.</p><p>&#8216;<em>You&#8217;re my best friend here, Sun and sky and the moon.</em> <em>Honestly the trees too are my best friends here,</em>&#8217; she said looking up at the sky and remembering how she hugs a tree daily on her way to her classes.</p><p>She looked at time, it was almost 6am now.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Seeya later, must get ready now. Thank you sky, and sun,</em>&#8217; she said, again looking up and went downstairs to her room.</p><p>She opened her dad&#8217;s contact and before she could press the dial button, her dad&#8217;s call came. She instantly picked it up and they exchanged their well beings and talked about the weather, breakfast, her test and then her mom came over the phone and then they also talked about the same things and Shree was instructed to be careful of her phone, money and herself on the bus by her mom and then the call ended with, &#8216;B<em>yee. Take care. Will talk again in noon,&#8217; </em>from both the sides on the phone.</p><p>After the call ended, Shree went to balcony again and opened Shyam&#8217;s chat, the message still unseen, and without caring about it, she sent the picture of the sunrise, she clicked earlier along with a &#8216;good morning&#8217; text.</p><p>A sense of embarrassment ran over her and she quickly exited the app. <em>&#8216;It&#8217;s okay. It&#8217;s not weird to send a &#8216;Good Morning&#8217; text to someone. I hope he wouldn&#8217;t mind... Ughh.. Why I do this always? I get an urge to text and after doing it, I feel guilty,&#8217; </em>she thought and looking up at the sky again she said, &#8216;<em>please help me sky!&#8217;</em></p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Present day-</strong></p><p>Shree is sitting on a bench. There are several short heighted, wide length stairs in front of her, which leads to the boating area of the river.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6TyO!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F946ce130-d491-42a9-b3fc-37b659aceebf_2048x1536.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6TyO!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F946ce130-d491-42a9-b3fc-37b659aceebf_2048x1536.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6TyO!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F946ce130-d491-42a9-b3fc-37b659aceebf_2048x1536.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6TyO!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F946ce130-d491-42a9-b3fc-37b659aceebf_2048x1536.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6TyO!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F946ce130-d491-42a9-b3fc-37b659aceebf_2048x1536.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6TyO!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F946ce130-d491-42a9-b3fc-37b659aceebf_2048x1536.jpeg" width="1456" height="1092" 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srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6TyO!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F946ce130-d491-42a9-b3fc-37b659aceebf_2048x1536.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6TyO!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F946ce130-d491-42a9-b3fc-37b659aceebf_2048x1536.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6TyO!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F946ce130-d491-42a9-b3fc-37b659aceebf_2048x1536.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!6TyO!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F946ce130-d491-42a9-b3fc-37b659aceebf_2048x1536.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Author&#8217;s own image</figcaption></figure></div><p>There are several boats but very less crowd at this moment, most of the boats are just tied on the bank. Few people are cleaning the area around the stairs and the bank. Only few benches are occupied in the place yet.</p><p>People, in their running shoes and shorts, some with their cycles and some with cricket bats are seen in the adjacent park cum garden attached to the beautiful ghat area of river Yamuna.</p><p>Shree had been sitting on the bench, since almost an hour now. The sun has rose completely and the orange rays were turning more and more warm and yellow with time.</p><p>She is lost in her own world, staring at the water flowing calmly.</p><p>Smell of hibiscus, rose and fallen down leaves from the trees, surrounding the area, is peculiar and making the whole place fragrant. Birds are chirping loudly; parrots are flying from one tree to another and the kids competing on their bikes.</p><p>The world is moving at full speed, dawn is turning into the morning, and she could sense that she&#8217;s getting late, but she was still lost, somewhere in the water it seems.</p><p>She comes back to reality, as her phone vibrates, her mom&#8217;s calling her. She picks up the call and says, &#8216;<em>I&#8217;m coming in 10 minutes mamma. I met some friends, so it got late in talking to them. I&#8217;m just taking my cycle out now,&#8217;</em> she said, instantly standing up.</p><p><em>&#8216;I&#8217;m waiting for you. You must study too Shree. Come back as soon as you can. You are out of home for two hours. Come back now,&#8217;</em> her mother asked her firmly, ending the call.</p><p>Shree looks at the view once again and it seems like she is talking to the river now.</p><p><em><strong>&#8216;That was also a time, no? I still feel like sharing this picture of today, with him. I wish this feeling, like several others, also fades soon,</strong></em>&#8217; she said clutching her phone tight and turned around, moving towards the cycle stand, outside the ghat.</p><p>She takes out her red bicycle, it&#8217;s seat warm from standing in the sun, and turns it towards the road. She put her stand down again and rushed toward a nearby tree as if forgetting something important.</p><p>She hugs the tree tight and caresses its bark. &#8216;<em>Thank you, for always being on my side</em>&#8217; she whispers and jumps towards her cycle.</p><p>A smile is visible on her face now, she said, &#8216;<em>Seeya soon Yamuna ji, sun and sky</em>&#8217; looking towards the ghat, moving the pedals of the cycle in a hurry, heading towards home.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!TTDp!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba04b464-5275-460b-844c-da7b74a349ca_2048x1536.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!TTDp!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba04b464-5275-460b-844c-da7b74a349ca_2048x1536.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!TTDp!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba04b464-5275-460b-844c-da7b74a349ca_2048x1536.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!TTDp!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba04b464-5275-460b-844c-da7b74a349ca_2048x1536.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!TTDp!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba04b464-5275-460b-844c-da7b74a349ca_2048x1536.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!TTDp!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba04b464-5275-460b-844c-da7b74a349ca_2048x1536.jpeg" width="1456" height="1092" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/ba04b464-5275-460b-844c-da7b74a349ca_2048x1536.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:1092,&quot;width&quot;:1456,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:177617,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/i/162350739?img=https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba04b464-5275-460b-844c-da7b74a349ca_2048x1536.jpeg&quot;,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!TTDp!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba04b464-5275-460b-844c-da7b74a349ca_2048x1536.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!TTDp!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba04b464-5275-460b-844c-da7b74a349ca_2048x1536.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!TTDp!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba04b464-5275-460b-844c-da7b74a349ca_2048x1536.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!TTDp!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba04b464-5275-460b-844c-da7b74a349ca_2048x1536.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Author&#8217;s own image.</figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p><em>She would reach home not in 10 but 25 minutes and her mom would slightly scold her for being out for so long, but she would start laughing when she Shree would pout her lips and pretend to cry like a baby. Her dad would also pacify her mom and would say laughing, &#8216;Kiddos are supposed to play, let her play, at least she woke up earlier than us, you see.&#8217;</em></p><p>And then they would proceed to eat their cozy idly and tomato chutney, for breakfast, together.</p><p>A lot has changed in Shree&#8217;s life indeed.</p><div><hr></div><p>If you made it till here, I want to thank you with all my heart.</p><p> I am really grateful that you sticked till the end. Your feedback would matter a lot to me, so please do let me know about how it felt. </p><p>Thank you so much for reading Shree&#8217;s story, I&#8217;ll let her know how you feel about her. </p><div><hr></div><p>Until next time, </p><p>Take care!! </p><p>And enjoy!!</p><p>Stay tuned for more and do share it with people you think would love reading it. </p><p>Seeya soon!!</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/?utm_source=substack&amp;utm_medium=email&amp;utm_content=share&amp;action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/?utm_source=substack&amp;utm_medium=email&amp;utm_content=share&amp;action=share"><span>Share HEARTSTRINGS</span></a></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-3/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-3/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div class="community-chat" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/chat?utm_source=chat_embed&quot;,&quot;subdomain&quot;:&quot;amelioratinga&quot;,&quot;pub&quot;:{&quot;id&quot;:4569659,&quot;name&quot;:&quot;HEARTSTRINGS&quot;,&quot;author_name&quot;:&quot;Ameliorating A&quot;,&quot;author_photo_url&quot;:&quot;https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fabc5572f-8ec2-4c9c-b447-0fa46cbf5660_1024x1024.png&quot;}}" data-component-name="CommunityChatRenderPlaceholder"></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-3?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matterright-part-3?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[LOVE DOESN'T MATTER... RIGHT? PART-2]]></title><description><![CDATA[DID YOU ANTICIPATE IT'S UPCOMING WHEN THE STORM PASSED?]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-part-2</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-part-2</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Sun, 13 Apr 2025 18:01:05 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1572312302337-1379d0fd54f8?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzdHJvbmclMjB3aW5kcyUyMGFuZCUyMHRyZWVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2NjgxN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Link to <a href="https://open.substack.com/pub/amelioratinga/p/love-doesnt-matter-right?r=5bv6wb&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=web&amp;showWelcomeOnShare=false">PART 1 </a></p><div class="pullquote"><p>&#8216;<em>I can&#8217;t believe time passed so quickly. I can&#8217;t believe I am able to write all this now without getting too panicked. Time does really heal things. I guess some more time and I&#8217;ll be able to live freely without any memories of the past. I still feel restless, my throat dries and seems like choking still, I still feel tension around my head and eyes, but it&#8217;s no longer every day. It happens sometimes, maybe twice a week or once a month. Its frequency is random, depending upon the things going on around, but I am just glad that now I can handle it better, that I can do things without having the thought, &#8216;You&#8217;re stupid&#8217;, in my head all the time. I still hate it when I can feel my chest pounding, but I am okay, it doesn&#8217;t scare me as much as before. I have been listening to party songs lately, the happy ones, isn&#8217;t that a progress? I am grateful for present now; I just hope things keep going on like that.</em>&#8217;</p></div><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1572312302337-1379d0fd54f8?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzdHJvbmclMjB3aW5kcyUyMGFuZCUyMHRyZWVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2NjgxN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1572312302337-1379d0fd54f8?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzdHJvbmclMjB3aW5kcyUyMGFuZCUyMHRyZWVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2NjgxN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1572312302337-1379d0fd54f8?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzdHJvbmclMjB3aW5kcyUyMGFuZCUyMHRyZWVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2NjgxN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1572312302337-1379d0fd54f8?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzdHJvbmclMjB3aW5kcyUyMGFuZCUyMHRyZWVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2NjgxN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1572312302337-1379d0fd54f8?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzdHJvbmclMjB3aW5kcyUyMGFuZCUyMHRyZWVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2NjgxN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1572312302337-1379d0fd54f8?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzdHJvbmclMjB3aW5kcyUyMGFuZCUyMHRyZWVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2NjgxN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="3888" height="2592" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1572312302337-1379d0fd54f8?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzdHJvbmclMjB3aW5kcyUyMGFuZCUyMHRyZWVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2NjgxN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:2592,&quot;width&quot;:3888,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;green trees&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="green trees" title="green trees" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1572312302337-1379d0fd54f8?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzdHJvbmclMjB3aW5kcyUyMGFuZCUyMHRyZWVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2NjgxN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1572312302337-1379d0fd54f8?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzdHJvbmclMjB3aW5kcyUyMGFuZCUyMHRyZWVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2NjgxN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1572312302337-1379d0fd54f8?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzdHJvbmclMjB3aW5kcyUyMGFuZCUyMHRyZWVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2NjgxN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1572312302337-1379d0fd54f8?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzdHJvbmclMjB3aW5kcyUyMGFuZCUyMHRyZWVzfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2NjgxN3ww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Max Titov</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>The weather is unusual today. In the month of April only the heat is rising to its peak, unlike other years when peak summers used to be in May/June. It&#8217;s cloudy since the morning today and much colder than the other days. Suddenly stormy winds started blowing around 10 am. Shree looks out of the balcony and the trees in the front, dancing on the tunes of wind, mesmerized her. The speed of the winds increased even more, and dust also became a part of them, whom they were dropping of everywhere they can go or squeeze themselves. She closed the curtain and turned around, a nostalgic memory hit her, and she stood still.</p><p><strong>Flashback-</strong></p><blockquote><p>The weather was quite like this that day too, except it was night and it was raining. It was not her home, and she was new in that city. She was writing something in her diary sitting next to the balcony door, which faced another building in front, the balcony door open and strong cold winds messing with her hair. She was totally engrossed, when she was startled by a call.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Oh goddd!! I didn&#8217;t realize it was 8 already. Ohh.. I am not prepared yet. What should I do? Should I pick up or not?</em>&#8217; She said jumping out of a chair.</p><p>The phone was ringing, her legs shaking, almost about the last ring, she gathered the courage and picked up the call. As she put the phone over her ears, she could also hear her heart sounds beating the drum loudly. A subtle but excited &#8216;<em>Helloo</em>&#8217; was heard from the other side. She fixed her hair, took a deep silent breath and nervously responded <em>&#8216;Heelloo&#8217;.</em></p><p>&#8216;Sooo.. See.. To use that app, firstly sign up like usually we do in other apps, and then you gotta enter your location too, to know the exact time the bus would leave your stop. And be careful, here drivers drive so ruthlessly, you gotta hold the rods attached tightly, and yeah, be very careful of the phone and money, snatching is very common here, so never put your phone in your bag, rather hold it tightly in your hand.&#8217;</p><p>She was lost, his voice seemed so familiar even when she was hearing it for the first time.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Hello? You there?</em>&#8217; She again got little startled.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Yeah, yeah. I&#8217;m listening.&#8217;</em></p><p>&#8216;<em>Okay. Now, I&#8217;ll tell you about the map first. Honestly, I find the map along with memorizing the time much easier than the app.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Ohh! Okay.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;So, you see the map is divided in these lanes. You just got to check on which lane you&#8217;re on and then check on which lane your destination is on. Take the bus that starts from the starting point of your lane and check what is its last stop, now look at the map and check where the lanes are crossing, now here you can change the bus to go to your &#8216;destination&#8217; lane and when your destination lane comes, you can finally take a direct bus to your location. It seems complicated but it isn&#8217;t. You just got to understand it first and then you will never forget. You understood?&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Kind of. Guess who is stupid (whispered quietly).&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;What? I couldn&#8217;t hear.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Nothing- nothing. I am still confused, but&#8217;ll manage.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Arey (casual hindi term used for shock) no confusion. Here, tell me how you would go from Kailash nagar to Central railway station?&#8217;</em></p><p>Her heart started thumping the drums even loudly, she felt like it&#8217;s about to pop.</p><p><em>&#8216;Umm...let me check. I would need time no. Gimme a minute.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Yeah, yeah, I am waiting.&#8217;</em></p><p>She zoomed out the map trying to figure out the route.</p><p><em>&#8216;Firstly, I can take any bus among 501, 502, 503, 504 and 505. I would go on the blue lane first and would step down at Rajiv chowk. From there I would probably need to go on yellow lane, so again I would take 607 or the similar ones which would be going towards Indira Market, but I would need to step down at Tagore town. From there, I could finally take bus 412/414/ 413 on the pink lane and i then can get down at Central Railway Station.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;See!! You got this. It ain&#8217;t difficult at all. Just be careful while riding alone, rest it&#8217;s easy,&#8217; he said. </em></p><p><em>&#8216;Yeah. I&#8217;ll take caution.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;So, all good no? How are you dealing with living alone for the first time?&#8217; he asked in intrigue. </em></p><p><em>&#8216;It&#8217;s going fine as of now,&#8217; she said and sighed, like it was a mix of lie and the truth. </em></p><p><em>&#8216;You&#8217;ll adjust soon. Don&#8217;t worry,&#8217; he said calmly.</em></p><p>She could still hear the heart drums but they were playing a softer tune now. </p><p>She thought to herself, &#8216;<em>He&#8217;s a good person, no?&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;So tell me Shree.. You are Shree right?&#8217; he asked trying to make sure he knows her right name.</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Yeah, you don&#8217;t know to whom you are talking..&#8217; she said laughing.</em></p><p><em>&#8216;I am just confirming dude. Chill,&#8217; he said laughing too. </em></p><p><em>&#8216;I am chill...haha.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;So gonna study now?&#8217; </em></p><p><em>&#8216;Yeah, would sleep, must wake up early for class. What are you gonna do? Watch movies?&#8217; she asked him in response. </em></p><p><strong>A small moment of silence on the other side.</strong></p><p><em>&#8216;How do you know that?&#8217; he said shockingly.</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Arey, you usually do that at this time no? So, I just guessed.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Ohhh. Yeah, would watch a movie then sleep, have to go to work in the morning,&#8217; he said in regretful tone. </em></p><p><em>&#8216;Yeah- yeah, you get going. And thank you so much for explaining this. It would really help me a lot.&#8217; </em></p><p><em>&#8216;Are you a fool? It&#8217;s alright no. No thanks.&#8217; </em></p><p><em>&#8216;Thank-you. Good night,&#8217; she said closing the call. </em></p><p><em>&#8216;It&#8217;s okay, good night, all the best for your classes. Byeee.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Byee byee.. Seeya,&#8217; and she cuts the call. </em></p><p>Shree returned to the present moment, turned around and sat on the stairs adjacent to the balcony. Her eyes fixated at the dancing tree&#8217;s leaves. </p><p><em>&#8216;I wish I didn&#8217;t agree to talk on a call that day. I wish I listened to Mamma and stayed here instead of going for that course, which amounted to nothing except more anxiety and two more years to heal from all that pressure, competition, poor self-worthiness, guilt and that feeling of being a loser.&#8217;</em></p><p>Shree went outside of her city, to a bigger town, to get more exposure, environment and competition to prepare well for her upcoming entrance exam, in the famous coaching center. There was a lot of resistance from her parents, especially her mom, but in the prospect of her future, she agreed to and allowed Shree to move out.</p><p>Shree didn&#8217;t anticipate most of the challenges she was about to face there. It got this worse at one point, that she decided to leave that course mid-way and come back home. This was the Shree, after two years, recovering from everything.</p><p>She took out her phone and checked his Id. The Id which she had deleted, the chats gone, numbers deleted, but she was still able to find it, as his number is still safely secured in her memory.</p><p>The bare name on his Id, just in the same color as it was when she first talked to him, was still there.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Does he ever miss me, or just remember me, the way I do?&#8217; </em>It appeared like she was talking to the sky.</p><p> Something shook in her and her melancholy tone changed to a firm voice<em>. &#8216;I&#8217;m glad he doesn&#8217;t. How awkward would that have gotten. I&#8217;m just glad, we lost contact when we did, otherwise I would have fallen more for him gradually and then it would have hurted a lot more.&#8217;</em> The firm tone changed to melancholy again as the last words came out of her mouth.</p></blockquote><p><strong>She stood up, and returned to her room, where she saw her mom sewing something in the sewing machine. A sense of comfort ran over her as she saw her mom, she felt like a child again, not an independent miserable soul, abut to break.</strong></p><p>She went closer and hugged her from the side. <em>&#8216;What my mamma is doing?&#8217; </em>she asked in a childlike voice.</p><p><em>&#8216;Oh noo.. Shree, get away no, the needle will either prick you or me if it got messed. You&#8217;re such a kiddo, as your dad calls you.&#8217;</em> Her mom said giggling. A sense of warmth was felt by Shree's cold running heart.</p><p><em>&#8216;What are you sewing mamma? Is this for me?&#8217; she asked playfully. </em></p><p><em>&#8216;Arey, your green pant was torn that day from the corner of the table no, so I am just fixing that.&#8217;</em></p><p><strong>Her heart clenched at the simple sight. Shree got another flashback.</strong></p><blockquote><p>[&#8216;<em>Oh noo! This can&#8217;t be happening right now. What should I even do now? I have only this tracksuit left that&#8217;s comfy, now look at its pocket, it&#8217;s torn. I'll take it to the tailor shop nearby tomorrow after classes, till then would manage with the blazer while going out on a walk. I can&#8217;t miss the walk; I need to lose weight.&#8217;</em></p><p>She took that tracksuit to the nearby tailor shop near her PG. The tailor was rude and said, we don&#8217;t sew these things. When she insisted, he asked 20rs, which was fair, but Shree thought it to be expensive enough on top all the expenses in the limited budget, which was already quite a load for her parents as they were paying for Shree's coaching, PG, food, transportation and everything.</p><p><em>&#8216;Let it be. If my mom would have been here it would have taken her two minutes.&#8217;</em></p><p>To which the tailor said<em>, &#8216;Go, get it done from your mom only then, why are you here! What kind of people keep coming here? 20rs is also expensive for them&#8217;,</em> he said rudely.</p><p>Shree took her cloth and started back to her room. Her vision blurry from the moist eyes.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Why are people so rude here? They don&#8217;t understand at all. Why is this all so hard?&#8217; her tears about to burst.</em></p><p><em>&#8216;It&#8217;s okay Shree. It's alright. We&#8217;ll watch a tutorial no, it isn't a big deal, you should expect people to be rude here. Afterall, this isn&#8217;t a small town, people here are so sophisticated. I feel so out of place here. Everyone here wears good looking clothes. I hate jeans, and that is all the formal clothing here. I am done! What a loser do I appear in front of the others, I even fear interacting with my cool flat mates, I feel like a total loser among them at times. I miss mamma and I miss my home.&#8217; </em>She was trying hard to control her tears in public.</p><p>She went to a nearby general store and bought a needle and a thread. She took everything and went back to her room.</p><p>She desperately tried two three times to sew the pocket from the tutorials, but the first three tries failed.</p><p><em>&#8216;I wish I learned it from mom. How do people manage to live alone? I&#8217;ll try once more otherwise I&#8217;ll go to tailor only.&#8217;</em></p><p>She was being very careful this time and finally got it right. The seam was looking bit ugly, but the pocket was restored, and she was satisfied with that. Her lips curved into a smile.</p><p>She picked the phone and dialed a number.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Hello, Mamma?&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Mamma I did it. My red tracksuit was torn no, I sewed it, myself!!&#8217; Her voice full of excitement.</em></p><p><em>&#8216;I was so worried you know, this is the only comfy one I have here, rest of the clothes are at home. But I did it.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Good job!! You got to learn all this eventually. And keep the needle and thread safely somewhere for future use. Don&#8217;t misplace it. You must be responsible now.</em>&#8217; her mom said to her.</p><p><em>&#8216;Yes mamma!!&#8217;</em>]</p><p>&#8216;<em>How comforting is it to be at home. The world is so organized, so comforting here. I love my mamma yr.&#8217;</em></p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1560796952-f1c9b838544c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzZXdpbmclMjBtYWNoaW5lfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2Njg4NXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1560796952-f1c9b838544c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzZXdpbmclMjBtYWNoaW5lfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2Njg4NXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1560796952-f1c9b838544c?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHwxfHxzZXdpbmclMjBtYWNoaW5lfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDU2Njg4NXww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, 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sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">J Williams</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div></blockquote><div><hr></div><p></p><p><em>The relationship between Shree and her mother has changed ever since she came back home. She realized the value of her parents, her home and her city.</em></p><p>Shree opened her notebook and sat beside her mom. They both continued their respective work, in the peaceful silence, filled with only the sound of spinning wheel from the sewing machine, which was relaxing Shree&#8217;s soul. </p><p>Earlier she used to have a hard time studying, just sitting on the chair of her desk would make her feel like running away, blood rushing in her legs, her palms sweating, her heart racing, tension around her forehead. She would sit for 15 mins, until her abdomen would start squeezing in and her chest burning with stomach acid.</p><p>When all the thoughts of failure and embarrassment would overpower her ability to understand any of the text, she would leap out and would be done with her study for the day. Studying horrified her at that point. But here she was now, sitting next to her mother, concentrated on her material, still having the sweat on the palm and her heart still felt by her, but she is no more restless. A lot has changed.</p><div><hr></div><p><strong>Next Day-</strong></p><p>The storm was nowhere to be seen, but it left its traces. The dust sneaked along with the wind, was hanging out with every corner of her room.</p><p>When she woke up, just like the old days, she first went to balcony and looked out for sun. The sun was shining brightly, its warmth made her feel much cozy.</p><p>&#8216;<em>Oh godd! How much I love this view. Thank god our neighbor has trees otherwise how would it have been? Our small town is definitely better than being in a city where we can&#8217;t even see sky clearly without going out, but here also it&#8217;s developing so fast. Except the house in front, there are no trees! I miss them so much but this smell of Tulsi in the balcony here..Ahh!&#8217;</em></p><p>She ran towards her mom and dad downstairs and spoke from half the way down <em>&#8216;I am awake momma and dada&#8217;</em>, her feet thumping on the stairs like she was a child.</p><p>Her mom and dad were having their tea. Shree gave a kiss on her mom&#8217;s cheeks and hi- fived with her dad. <em>&#8216;Hey, don&#8217;t you know how to be careful? The stairs are slippery no. Be careful on the steps.</em>&#8217; her dad said to her while she started brushing her teeth.</p><p><em>&#8216;You remember, when she fell off stairs in her PG? I had to call Bhaiya (elder brother) to go check on her then in that rain. She is so careless. Thankfully we got her room nearby his house, otherwise nobody would have been there in case of emergencies.</em>&#8217; Her dad said to her mom.</p><p><em>&#8216;Yeah, she&#8217;s careless and when does she ever listens to us? Foolish kiddo.&#8217;</em> her mom said jokingly.</p><p>Shree looked at her mom and dad through the mirror above the sink.</p><p><em>&#8216;How much they care about me no? I was really a fool to take them for granted. I don&#8217;t know how can they love me so much? I don&#8217;t even deserve that. I am so grateful for them.</em>&#8217;</p><p><strong>FLASHBACK-</strong></p><blockquote><p>&#8216;Shree was leaving for the new city with her dad that day. She had given her exam that very same day and was very tired, the exam didn&#8217;t go well either. When she came back from examination center, she had to immediately start getting ready for leaving.</p><p>Her mom packed food for them, and everyone was rushing in their part. Dad was rechecking all the documents to make sure everything&#8217;s there, her mom was packing food and snacks, and she was packing her bag again, to make sure everything is there.</p><p>Everyone was stressed and emotional, and everybody was trying to hide it. Shree&#8217;s head was clouded, and huge clouds of emotions were constantly covering her mind.</p><p><em>&#8216;Is this the right decision? Can I really do it? How bad of a daughter I am? Can you see mom&#8217;s eyes? Her eyes are constantly red since the past few days from crying. She isn&#8217;t crying in front of me, but I know her eyes. Is this really necessary? Would it all be worth it?&#8217; And similar thoughts were constantly going on in her head.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Come on Shree. We would be late. Let it be now. Come here.&#8217; </em>Her dad called her downstairs in urgency.</p><p><em>&#8216;Eat two parathas here and eat rest of the thing in train if it gets late.&#8217; Shree had no desire to eat but she ate the parathas and went inside to take out her bag. </em>She put the tiffin in that back and then turned to her mom.</p><p><em>I&#8217;ll keep calling you. Dada is there, don&#8217;t you worry about anything at all there, okay? I am here, so don&#8217;t worry about here too. Just study really well</em>.&#8217; Her mom&#8217;s voice trailed as her tears finally broke the barrier of control.</p><p>Seeing her mom cry, a knife got stabbed in Shree&#8217;s heart. She had tears, but she couldn&#8217;t even cry. <em>&#8216;How bad I can be?&#8217;</em> is all that came to her mind. She hugged her mother and touched her feet. Her dad called her to come inside the taxi outside.</p><p>Shree looked at her mom. Her red eyes, trying to hold the tears, felt so deeply lovable to her. <em>&#8216;I don&#8217;t want to go mom.&#8217;</em> She said to herself, but again her dad&#8217;s voice came from the taxi.</p><p><em>&#8216;I love you mom. I don&#8217;t want to go</em>&#8217;, a voice reached her ears along with her dad&#8217;s.</p><p><em>&#8216;Go on Shree. Let's go.&#8217;</em> Shree&#8217;s mom walked her till the front gate and stood beside the taxi as she seated.</p><p><em>&#8216;Take care of her. I am leaving her with you, she&#8217;s your responsibility now.&#8217;</em> Her mother said to her dad, who was also looking at her. No emotions on his face were visible, but the pain could be heard from his voice.</p><p><em>&#8216;Okay! I&#8217;ll come back in few days after arranging everything. Will call after reaching the station.&#8217; </em>he said.</p><p>Shree&#8217;s mom put her head inside the taxi and kissed Shree&#8217;s cheek.<em> &#8216;Take care Shree.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;You take care of yourself. I&#8217;ll be fine, don&#8217;t worry mamma.&#8217;</em> They waved goodbye till the taxi turned right.</p><p>Shree pulled out her earphones from her bag and plugged them in her phone. She didn&#8217;t say even a single word to her dad. His presence was the only comfort in that silent unknown taxi.</p><p>She was looking outside, thinking about how her new life&#8217;s going to unfold, emotions of guilt were fading and appearing alternatively among excitement of the new life and her leaving her home and her mom.</p><p>She was thinking all this when she got a notification. It was him again, asking about her exam.</p><p>She was chatting with him, seeking comfort in talking and sharing her experience. The network was irregular, and hence it was taking long time. She didn&#8217;t realize when did they even reach the station. Her dad didn&#8217;t interrupt her in between. He was just silent completely throughout the journey. </p><p>Her dad asked her to step down when she was typing, she tried finishing the sentence before he went offline, when her dad said, <em>&#8216;Are you crazy? What you&#8217;re doing on the phone? Just stay in the phone always! Don&#8217;t worry about us at all Queen.&#8217; he said furiously. </em></p><p>She realized her mistake; her heart sank into the ocean of guilt again and she came down. Her dad paid the driver, and they finally entered the station. She was feeling both nervous and excited.</p><p>Something was moving in her stomach; she looked for her dad who was few steps front already. <em>&#8216;Come on, now.&#8217; </em>he said in frustration of both the tiring day and her behavior.</p><p>She wanted to cry. <em>&#8216;Mom won&#8217;t be there anymore to defend me from dad&#8217;s scoldings.&#8217;</em> Her head was aching badly and her heart felt like it would explode. She followed her dad to the platform. Her dad asked to stay there and watch the bags, while he headed to the restroom.</p><p>She looked at the moon outside the tin shade of the platform.<em> &#8216;I am really so bad, no? I don&#8217;t deserve anything.&#8217;</em> Looking at the moon she remembered a song and put on her earphones again.</p><p>She was listening to &#8216;Night changes&#8217; and the line, <em><strong>&#8216;Everything you&#8217;ve ever dreamed of, disappearing when you wake up, but there&#8217;s nothing to be afraid of, even when the night changes..&#8217; </strong></em>calmed her a bit.</p><p>Her dad came back, his face and hair slightly wet, like he just washed them. He looked much calm now.</p><p><em>&#8216;Why you bought this? Mom packed tiffin</em>.&#8217; Shree said looking at her favorite flavor of chips and Britania cake in his hand.</p><p><em>&#8216;Eat both.&#8217;</em> he said looking at her lovingly. His eyes spoke the words which never came out of his mouth. <em>&#8216;I love you kiddo. I didn&#8217;t mean to yell. Take it as an apology for yelling earlier.</em> A warm feeling covered her, and her ribs relaxed.</p><p>The train arrived and they headed to their seat. She had been assigned the upper berth. She climbed up and kept her snacks bag near her. Her dad&#8217;s seat was just beneath her. After settling a bit, her dad asked her <em>&#8216;You comfortable? I'll wake you up when we&#8217;ll reach, sleep well, you must be very tired today. Don't watch phone now. Just relax.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;I&#8217;ll sleep in a bit dad. You sleep. I'll put an alarm too.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Yeah, okay. Good night.&#8217;</em></p><p>Shree called her mom and told her that they boarded the train. Her mom seemed better now, and they talked a bit. They both said good night to each other and ended the call.</p><p>Shree opened that chat and typed,<em> &#8216;Sorry, the network wasn&#8217;t there. Good night.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;He comes online only sometimes. He must have been asleep now.&#8217; </em>she thought to herself when a text from the other side came.</p><p>&#8216;<em>It&#8217;s okay. I was about to sleep too.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Oh!</em>&#8217; she typed, startled, by the unexpected response.</p><p><em>&#8216;What are you doing?&#8217; he asked.</em></p><p><em>&#8216;I am in the train.. I told you about that coaching no, so just going there with my dad.&#8217; she explained.</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Oh, so where is this coaching of yours? Is it far away from home?&#8217; he asked out of curiosity. </em></p><p><em>&#8216;Yeah, it is. It's in Vikramshila. It's around 8 hours of train journey from my home,&#8217; she said, a tone of fear and despair which couldn&#8217;t be perceived in a text was there. </em></p><p><em>&#8216;Ohh.. Really. I live in Vikramshila too.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Woww.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Let me know your experience here. Gotta go, will talk later.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Yeah sure. Seeya.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Seeya.&#8217;</em></p><p>She turned on the songs again and wondered <em>&#8216;What a coincidence!&#8217;</em></p><p>Alag aasman was playing when her eyes were shutting. She put her earphones inside the bag and put her phone in her pocket and fell asleep.</p></blockquote><p><strong>Back to the present day.</strong></p><p><em>&#8216;I missed them so much. I feel like I have been tucked in clouds among them. 'I'm never moving out again.&#8217; </em>She whispered silently to the mirror.</p><p>Shree went inside the kitchen and put the tea on the stove to reheat. She took out her phone and turned on the internet, which she turned off sleeping.</p><p>Notification started coming, but nothing that can amaze her was there. All the notifications were useless. She checked for texts but there were none.</p><p>She said to herself, <em>&#8216;I wasn&#8217;t expecting any text anyway. It's alright.</em>&#8217;</p><p>The expressions on her face were telling a different story, that she indeed was expecting a text from someone. &#8216;<em>This is what happens when you push everyone away Shree&#8217;</em>, she thought while straining the tea into the cup.</p><p><em>&#8216;It&#8217;s okay, let&#8217;s not ruin our moods. And think about what I'll be doing today.&#8217;</em></p><p>When she couldn&#8217;t cheer herself, she again thought, &#8216;<em>At least it&#8217;s better than before. I am no longer desperately waiting for texts in pain and agony. It's okay that Lata didn&#8217;t text either, I am sure I didn&#8217;t do anything wrong. Maybe she&#8217;s just busy.&#8217;</em></p><p>&#8216;<em>Yeah i didn&#8217;t do anything wrong,&#8217;</em> she reassured herself after checking the chat.</p><p><em>&#8216;Maybe that&#8217;s what made me look bad. This feeling of constantly doing something wrong.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Oh goodness, what all did I say to him? Oh nooooo!!!&#8217;</em> she shut her eyes tightly, as she recalled something, and felt like it was happening in real. </p><p><em>&#8216;Okay, what happened, happened. I can&#8217;t change. It was just a stupid mistake to wait so desparately and oversharing. Oh dear lord. Why I said all that?&#8217; she said, exhaling, in an attempt to get rid of that thought. </em></p><p>S<strong>he remembered the time when she would wait for hours for a single text in agony, and would decide no matter what she won&#8217;t reply to him until a day after. He was a working person, expected to be busy always, but she couldn&#8217;t accept it easily, no matter what she said to herself. </strong></p><p>But as soon as she used to receive a text, she couldn&#8217;t think about anything else except it, and no matter how hard she tried then, she would reply back in few mins like nothing had happened, like she didn&#8217;t feel anything and that it was all cool. The hurt she felt after that, she only knew.</p><p>She tried comforting herself by sipping the tea and turned on the music in her phone.</p><p><em>&#8216;Dandelions</em>&#8217; first started playing and she immediately tried changing it. <em>&#8216;Nooo! Not this one. Oh god!! Why did I send any song to him at all? I can&#8217;t even listen to those now.&#8217;</em> she said squeezing her eyes and facing the ceiling.</p><p>[<a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/6fhG2KJgwO7CrNflRaRmvp?si=3e97665861944ef3">DANDELIONS</a>]</p><p>She changed the music to <em>&#8216;Dil dhadakne do&#8217; [<a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/46elU7IBKWf55D5sjHGqO7?si=47a9c27b1f5f41a4">SONG LINK</a>] (Let the heart beats as it wants) </em>and went in utter embarrassment to the room.</p><p>She sat on the bed and checked for nowhere to be found texts again.</p><p><em>&#8216;Let it be, let&#8217;s continue.</em>&#8217; she said and started planning her day.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1598450779337-5a40252d75ef?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxkYW5kZWxpb25zfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDQ2NjI4OHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1598450779337-5a40252d75ef?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxkYW5kZWxpb25zfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDQ2NjI4OHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1598450779337-5a40252d75ef?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxkYW5kZWxpb25zfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDQ2NjI4OHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1598450779337-5a40252d75ef?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxkYW5kZWxpb25zfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDQ2NjI4OHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1598450779337-5a40252d75ef?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxkYW5kZWxpb25zfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDQ2NjI4OHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1598450779337-5a40252d75ef?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxkYW5kZWxpb25zfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDQ2NjI4OHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080" width="3765" height="5647" 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srcset="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1598450779337-5a40252d75ef?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxkYW5kZWxpb25zfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDQ2NjI4OHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 424w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1598450779337-5a40252d75ef?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxkYW5kZWxpb25zfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDQ2NjI4OHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 848w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1598450779337-5a40252d75ef?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxkYW5kZWxpb25zfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDQ2NjI4OHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1272w, https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1598450779337-5a40252d75ef?crop=entropy&amp;cs=tinysrgb&amp;fit=max&amp;fm=jpg&amp;ixid=M3wzMDAzMzh8MHwxfHNlYXJjaHw3fHxkYW5kZWxpb25zfGVufDB8fHx8MTc0NDQ2NjI4OHww&amp;ixlib=rb-4.0.3&amp;q=80&amp;w=1080 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="true">Daphn&#233; Richard</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>She is still moving on, trying to do things the right way this time. Healing is a gradual process; she should heal soon. Maybe she would just stop caring after some time, I hope she does.</p><div><hr></div><p><strong>If you made it till here, I want to thank you, so much, for giving your time to read. It really matters a lot. I hope you enjoyed it. I would love to know what you feel about this.</strong></p><p><strong>Suggestions are welcome too.</strong></p><p><strong>And, on the last note, this is just a short story, expected to be enjoyed and taken lightly. It&#8217;s totally fictional and any resemblance to character, events or place is totally coincidental.</strong></p><p>(<em>It really is fictional?) Yes, it is.</em></p><p>Don&#8217;t laugh now.</p><p>You know it is.</p><p><strong>Until the next one,</strong></p><p><strong>Take care and Enjoy.</strong></p><p><strong>Seeya soon.</strong></p><div class="captioned-button-wrap" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-part-2?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;}" data-component-name="CaptionedButtonToDOM"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! This post is public so feel free to share it.</p></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-part-2?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-part-2?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-part-2/comments&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Leave a comment&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-part-2/comments"><span>Leave a comment</span></a></p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">Thanks for reading HEARTSTRINGS! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[LOVE DOESN’T MATTER. RIGHT…?(PART -1)]]></title><description><![CDATA[An insight into the world of Shree, who is looking for a sense of belonging amidst dealing with her self-worth and loneliness.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-70628e2bdd18</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/love-doesnt-matter-right-70628e2bdd18</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Sun, 30 Mar 2025 16:55:56 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F34f9beb2-b4b9-439e-9fff-fdad79800381_1024x1536.png" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<h4>An insight into the world of Shree, who is looking for a sense of belonging amidst dealing with her self-worth and loneliness.</h4><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!X54s!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F34f9beb2-b4b9-439e-9fff-fdad79800381_1024x1536.png" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!X54s!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F34f9beb2-b4b9-439e-9fff-fdad79800381_1024x1536.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!X54s!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F34f9beb2-b4b9-439e-9fff-fdad79800381_1024x1536.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!X54s!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F34f9beb2-b4b9-439e-9fff-fdad79800381_1024x1536.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!X54s!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F34f9beb2-b4b9-439e-9fff-fdad79800381_1024x1536.png 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!X54s!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F34f9beb2-b4b9-439e-9fff-fdad79800381_1024x1536.png" width="1024" height="1536" 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srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!X54s!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F34f9beb2-b4b9-439e-9fff-fdad79800381_1024x1536.png 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!X54s!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F34f9beb2-b4b9-439e-9fff-fdad79800381_1024x1536.png 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!X54s!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F34f9beb2-b4b9-439e-9fff-fdad79800381_1024x1536.png 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!X54s!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F34f9beb2-b4b9-439e-9fff-fdad79800381_1024x1536.png 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a></figure></div><p><em>&#8216;Shree?&#8217;</em></p><p>Gazing at the full moon and totally lost, Shree got startled upon hearing a fading familiar voice. She looked down from the balcony and found her mother calling her.</p><p>&#8216;<em>I&#8217;m coming in few minutes, you guys sleep. I&#8217;ll close the door.</em>&#8217; Shree said to her mom and returned to the stairs where she was sitting.</p><p>The pale full moon, having a perfect blend of yellow in it amidst the whitish clouds, spread over dark night sky, had the magical radiance that filled the dark terrace with a beautiful white glow like it was a home of a fairy. Summer had arrived; the clouds brought with them the cool winds that gave some relief from the apprehension of harsh extreme upcoming summer. Shree took a deep breath and exhaled as much as she could, as if trying to cool herself with the freshness in the air.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!gzoe!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9bbe58f4-b2ba-4d82-870a-7afecf762db5_1521x1600.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!gzoe!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9bbe58f4-b2ba-4d82-870a-7afecf762db5_1521x1600.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!gzoe!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9bbe58f4-b2ba-4d82-870a-7afecf762db5_1521x1600.jpeg 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data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/9bbe58f4-b2ba-4d82-870a-7afecf762db5_1521x1600.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:1532,&quot;width&quot;:1456,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:160387,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:&quot;https://amelioratinga.substack.com/i/160869204?img=https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9bbe58f4-b2ba-4d82-870a-7afecf762db5_1521x1600.jpeg&quot;,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!gzoe!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9bbe58f4-b2ba-4d82-870a-7afecf762db5_1521x1600.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!gzoe!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9bbe58f4-b2ba-4d82-870a-7afecf762db5_1521x1600.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!gzoe!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9bbe58f4-b2ba-4d82-870a-7afecf762db5_1521x1600.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!gzoe!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9bbe58f4-b2ba-4d82-870a-7afecf762db5_1521x1600.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg role="img" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><title></title><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a></figure></div><p></p><p>She turned her head towards the moon, and tilted her face slightly upward, the white glow on her face, she felt radiant. Her rubber band which securely held all the strands of her hair in a tight bun was in her wrist now, her brownish hair on her shoulders, she seemed much loose and relaxed. Something changed, almost unconsciously she took the rubber band from her wrist and secured her hair in a ponytail. The back of her neck was visible, the sweat particles reflecting the moonlight. &#8216;<em>God! I really can&#8217;t tolerate hairs touching my skin.&#8217; She murmured.</em></p><p><em><strong>&#8216;Phir le aaya dil.. Majboor kya kijiye..&#8217; started playing in her head, &#8216;Raas na aaya..rehna door kya kijiye..&#8217;</strong></em></p><p>&#8216;Moon?&#8217;</p><p>She took her eyes down from it and stared at the ground and her hanging feet. She was afraid of bugs, and hence constantly was checking to make sure she doesn&#8217;t fall after her jump scare. After making sure there was none, she became still. Her eyes facing the city while her chest rose and fell quietly as if breathing was also a task. She felt something, her heart skipped a beat and she again turned towards moon. A sense of coolness was felt by her eyes like splashing the water on hot ground in summers cools it down. The moon light twinkled against the dark backdrop of her moist eyes.</p><p><em>&#8216;I don&#8217;t know what I want to say, dear.</em></p><p><em>Why love seems so beautiful? And why is it so hard to meet someone who can love me for me&#8230;? I am weird, no, An overweight kid, refusing help, never taking part in any activities and is also not good at drawing, singing, dancing, sports etc. Who is only good at just studies and they might also think that I am trying to show off by always studying. Is that really why I am not included in anything? They don&#8217;t know me at all.. And I shouldn&#8217;t expect them to, right? They don&#8217;t know my situation anyway. Being loved and understood by someone must feel so good and comforting right?&#8217;</em></p><p>She paused and thought for a moment. &#8216;<em>But I don&#8217;t want to be in love. I don&#8217;t want to go through all the turmoil, hurt and difficulty associated with it.&#8217;</em> She became conscious again and continued her conversation with the moon: <em>&#8216;I always knew the downsides of being in love, I knew since forever that love is cursed, it&#8217;s bound to hurt you, but even then, why I want it? At one moment I feel like I don&#8217;t want anyone in my life. I don&#8217;t want to need anybody and then at moments like these, the picture of Barfi and Jhilmil starts appearing. Why?&#8217;</em></p><p>The clouds had covered the moon now, the white light could still be seen behind the clouds. She turned her head to the front and the city looked like an ocean filled with thousands of differently shining stars floating on it.</p><p>Shree&#8217;s emotions gradually accumulated and they were ready to roll out in form of tears, her eyes have welled up. Shree checked her contact list on the phone, she paused on few of the names, thought for a moment, something stopped her from calling anyone and she put the phone away.</p><p>&#8216;<em>No one out of these 1000 contacts is there to call. It&#8217;s not their fault; I am the one who doesn&#8217;t like so many friends and if I behave like I am not interested then who can be interested in knowing me?&#8217; </em>She thought to herself, tear rolled down from her eyes.</p><p>The moon was half visible from the clouds again. She gazed at it and questioned, <em>&#8216;Is there someone out there who&#8217;s waiting for me too, just like how i am waiting for him, looking at you?&#8217;</em><strong> A memory from few years back pulled her inside herself like a magnet.</strong></p><p>&#8216;<em>A classroom full of students. Boys and girls seated in two different rows. Some girls chatting among themselves, some front seat girls talking to the boys, few boys talking loudly and playing pen fight among themselves, few students doing some kind of schoolwork. A girl sitting on the last second bench, sitting by herself, tired of reading the text she was reading, was looking over the class room, every one busy in their own world. She doesn&#8217;t have many friends and the friend with whom she usually talked was absent today. Looking over at boy&#8217;s row she wanted to be friends with them too, especially that one cool looking boy whom she found bit charming.</em></p><p><em>She often tried stealing a glace from a distance, when he was not looking. She smiled too when he laughed among his friends. She liked the way he was almost always trying to fix his hair, and how he walked. She didn&#8217;t quite like his personality, the way he was bit arrogant and rude, but she still had a small crush on him. She disliked few more things about him too, especially that he never talked to her, which she knew was so silly to dislike about in someone, but she still hated him for that. He still had a charm, which she couldn&#8217;t ignore. This continued for a long time until school got over, but that boy wouldn&#8217;t even have an intuition that she looked forward to talking to him.</em></p><p><em>She never initiated any conversation with the boys, in fear of rumors, plus few of the earlier happenings where friends eventually became stalkers when refused the proposal of being in a relationship. But she always wanted to talk to them at least but she never tried, and neither did anyone from the boy&#8217;s row did. She was weird to them, an ugly girl who was egoistic, was probably her image in their group, otherwise why else would no one talk to her? She indeed was a weird kid. She is still the same even today.&#8217;</em></p><p><strong>This scene appeared before her eyes like she was watching an old tape with a voiceover. Her shoulders drooped even more, and she felt lethargic.</strong></p><p>She heaved a sigh and asked the moon again, &#8216;<em>Why I am so unlikable? Why i am not cool like other cool kids?&#8217; &#8216;Would there ever be someone in my life to whom I can write letters, someone who would actually like them, and not feel cringe? I also want a friendship like &#8216;Barfi and jhilmil&#8217;, I also want to feel special to someone. But why I am such a loser, who is not even good at academics and neither in social life. Why is it so hard for me to merge with others? I also wanna write something for someone you know?&#8217;</em></p><p><em><strong>A lot of images about her future where she&#8217;s miserable and not successful started appearing before her. Times when she was not able to fit in, her bad score in her board exams, when she felt restless and not being able to tolerate the presence of books near her, flashed before her eyes. She shut her eyes tight before she was lost in those images.</strong></em><br><em><strong>She started breathing bit fast and massaged her temples. She was shaking her legs too, unconsciously, and her shoulders drooped even more. She didn&#8217;t know what to do about it, and then suddenly she got up from the stairs, as if she no longer can handle talking to the moon and hurriedly went downstairs. Upon reaching her room, she switched off the lights, turned on the fan and jumped on the bed, pulling the sheet over her face. She pulled her legs closer to her chest and tucked a pillow between her hands and chest. She closed her eyes, turned on the other side after few moments, and then turned back again. Her racing heart was making her restless, and she hugged the pillow even tighter as if it would stop the heart from beating fast. She relaxed her forehead, tried taking deep slow breaths, remembering what she read in the article on anxiety management, and then she finally fell asleep.</strong></em></p><p><strong>The next day-</strong></p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!wFiu!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F21ecef07-4d5d-42ae-bc77-a2f8c71edb24_800x1067.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!wFiu!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F21ecef07-4d5d-42ae-bc77-a2f8c71edb24_800x1067.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!wFiu!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F21ecef07-4d5d-42ae-bc77-a2f8c71edb24_800x1067.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!wFiu!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F21ecef07-4d5d-42ae-bc77-a2f8c71edb24_800x1067.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!wFiu!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F21ecef07-4d5d-42ae-bc77-a2f8c71edb24_800x1067.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!wFiu!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F21ecef07-4d5d-42ae-bc77-a2f8c71edb24_800x1067.jpeg" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/21ecef07-4d5d-42ae-bc77-a2f8c71edb24_800x1067.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:null,&quot;width&quot;:null,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:null,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!wFiu!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F21ecef07-4d5d-42ae-bc77-a2f8c71edb24_800x1067.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!wFiu!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F21ecef07-4d5d-42ae-bc77-a2f8c71edb24_800x1067.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!wFiu!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F21ecef07-4d5d-42ae-bc77-a2f8c71edb24_800x1067.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!wFiu!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F21ecef07-4d5d-42ae-bc77-a2f8c71edb24_800x1067.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Author&#8217;s own&nbsp;image</figcaption></figure></div><p>Sunrays entering the room through the windows, brightened the area around the bed. it looked like the walls were playing tennis with the sunshine, reflecting the beam from one corner to another, making the whole room dimly lit. Shree woke up after hearing the commotion from downstairs as her family was already up.</p><p>She went outside and looked for a bright spot of light on the wall, where she can place her eyes and have the view of sun, without the buildings interrupting the full image. She stood there, feeling the warmth of morning sun against her cold skin. In the garden of the house in front, the birds were chirping, hidden behind several branches of the tree. It felt like the tree was humming itself.</p><p>The parrots were on the electricity wires, sitting next to one another, trying to balance their body by tilting with their lush green feathers and bright red peaks. They flew every time, a vehicle passed on the road below them, onto the boundary of the front house&#8217;s nearest wall or onto the trees, which resulted in much more commotion among the leaves and different melodies from the birds.</p><p>It was her kind of morning routine to observe this morning beauty, the freshness and write in her diary, which she did somedays, not from the balcony but from the terrace, that too from her favorite spot, i.e. the stairs. When she couldn&#8217;t do that, or when she didn&#8217;t feel like going to terrace, she felt the sun from the balcony to satisfy herself with feeling that she at least did a part.</p><p>Diary was the only thing that seemed to understand her, she could write all her deepest thoughts in it and after writing, she had a different posture and a kind of magical energy which helped her to keep going for some time.</p><p>Today, she was late, the morning sun was already too bright, so she decided not to do the usual thing and continue with the daily chores and activities. She was slow, it was taking her longer somehow at all the tasks, her lips curved downwards.</p><p><em><strong>&#8216;Life has gotten so monotonus. There&#8217;s no time for doing anything extra. What a waste!&#8217; </strong></em>she sighed as she strained the tea her mom already made.</p><p>Her dad enters the kitchen and seeing Shree lost, he asked, &#8216;<em>No Good Morning today?&#8217;</em></p><p>Shree, who didn&#8217;t realize that her dad also entered the kitchen, got bit startled and accidentally took away the strainer which tumbled the cup. She immediately held the cup, but half of the tea was already spilled.</p><p>She looked at her dad and said, <em>&#8216;Doesn&#8217;t seem like a great morning to me!&#8217; </em>and took an old cloth to clean the mess. Her dad smiled and said<em>, &#8216;Don&#8217;t you know spilling a tea is considered a good omen? And anyways you are a kiddo still, you shouldn&#8217;t be drinking too much tea anyway</em>.&#8217;</p><p><em>&#8216;Ha ha ha. Don&#8217;t make things up dad, I&#8217;m not a fool. And please don&#8217;t say anything about tea, if my morning tea is ruined, the whole day would be ruined. Thankfully, i still have some left in the cup to refresh myself a bit. I have so many tasks to get done today.&#8217;</em> Shree said rinsing the cloth.</p><p><em>&#8216;Such a smart kiddo you are. Don&#8217;t worry, nothing&#8217;s ruined. See, it&#8217;s clean already, nothing to ruin your mood and the day about. And yeah, your mom&#8217;s gone to the temple today, mopping is in your plate today, I&#8217;ll cook the breakfast.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;Nooo!!! Why mom needed to go today? I hate sudden tasks without planning, it&#8217;s not in my to do list today. The day is already ruined before even starting.&#8217;</em></p><p>&#8216;<em>It&#8217;s alright. I&#8217;ll do it myself and moreover what mountain would collapse if for one day the floor isn&#8217;t mopped.&#8217;</em></p><p><em>&#8216;I can&#8217;t tolerate dusty floors you know. It irritates me even more than mopping.&#8217;</em> <em><strong>She angrily sipped the tea quickly and ran to her room. Her dad stood there without saying a word and watched as she left.</strong></em></p><p><em>&#8216;What&#8217;s up with her?&#8217;</em> he whispered and went on to make breakfast.</p><p><em><strong>In her room Shree was sitting on her chair and was writing something in a speed. She was rocking her legs, the handwriting was bit messy, and there were lines on her forehead. Her lips looked like they were squeezed into a tiny pout, and her throat had a movement like she gulped something, probably the saliva to relieve the pain of choking emotions in her throat. Her brows were frowned, the exhaled air, coming at a speed, slightly moving the paper, the sound of her heart could be heard by her when something struck her and she stopped.</strong></em></p><p><strong>The picture of her mother appeared in front of her.</strong></p><p><em>&#8216;How i left for school one day while leaving the whole room messy and the kitchen was messy too. I was worried about it, but mom said, you go, I&#8217;ll take care of it. After i came back everything was at its place and she was lying down after being so tired from all the cleaning and cooking and god knows how many things. After seeing me, she smiled still and didn&#8217;t even complain a little.&#8217;</em></p><p>She paused, still breathing fast, leaned back on her chair and stared at the moving fan, she maintained this state for few moments, the exhaled air became much less violent gradually, and the lines on her forehead started disappearing. Few moments later, she again got up and started writing. This time her movements were slow and precise, the handwriting legible against the toddler&#8217;s writing few sentences above, and the lines on her head disappeared completely now. Her legs were also still and her lips plumped into a flat line. She put the pen aside and went downstairs to her dad.</p><p><em><strong>Shree was known for her epiphanies and her changing her stand after few moments of privacy. Her parents knew it well and they didn&#8217;t mind her sudden outbursts much, as they know how much she questions her behavior and things.</strong></em></p><p>Shree might have had another one of her epiphanies while writing, as after that only she decided to go back and help. As she was reaching more closer to her dad, her eyes faced downwards, her nose squeezed and got bit smaller, her left hand was holding the wrist of her right hand and rubbing against it.</p><p>She gathered some courage finally and slowly moved closer to her dad.</p><p><em>&#8216;Oh, woww! So my favorite cheelas are for breakfast. Please add more filling in mine and bit extra salt to.</em>&#8217; She said taking a bite of the cheela from the hot pan, trying to make eye contact with him and yet looking at the pan.</p><p><em>&#8216;Are you crazy? Who takes a bite from hot pan? I know you love this, but have some patience, you are no longer a kid no? You&#8217;re growing up, these things don&#8217;t suit you anymore.&#8217; </em>Her dad said, giving her a side eye.</p><p><em>&#8216;Oh! So now I&#8217;m an adult? A few moments ago, somebody was calling me kiddo, and now when i am acting like one, you are saying i should behave like a grown up. How can one live with such conflicting world view?&#8217;</em> She said giggling.</p><p>Her dad smiled and playfully hit her on head and said, <em>&#8216;Looks like somebody&#8217;s day isn&#8217;t yet ruined afterall. Right?&#8217;</em></p><p>Shree smiled in embarrassment for her behavior earlier and changed the subject to mopping.<em> &#8216;I don&#8217;t have time you know, but I know how to do all this. I can balance time. And moreover, how often mom even goes out? Rarely. She deserves a break too. I&#8217;ll get it done quickly then we would eat breakfast together. Okay?&#8217;</em></p><p>Her dad nodded and they both got back to their respective works. Shree plugged in her earphones and started listening to music.</p><p><em><strong>&#8216;It&#8217;s fun to mop with beats you know&#8230;&#8217;</strong></em> She thought to herself and started humming and making few moves as she mopped.</p><p>She unconsciously started singing loudly in the invisible mic she was holding, &#8216;<em><strong>Paate hum hain zindagi ek baar, kyun na karein isko hum khul ke pyaar, jane kiska hai hume intezaar, ki zindagi yhi hai aur yhi..&#8217; and danced with the mop.</strong></em></p><p>Her dad was smiling seeing her, when her mom arrived. Shree didn&#8217;t realise her mom was home and was still singing. When she turned around, she found her mom standing in front of her. She immediately stopped and pulled out the ear plugs. She was trying not to look at her mom, her face red.</p><p>&#8216;<em>You came? I didn&#8217;t know. How&#8217;s it at the temple</em>?&#8217;</p><p><em>&#8216;How would you see me, huh? You were lost in Sun&#8217;s arm, it must have been blinding, no?&#8217;</em> her mom said giggling.</p><p><em>&#8216;See, i am almost done with the floor. You came at a good time, i thought you&#8217;d be late. Anyways, wash your hands and face, daddy&#8217;s done too, right dad? I&#8217;ll finish it till you&#8217;ll be done and then we&#8217;d eat together. Dad made cheelas, you know, I can&#8217;t wait.&#8217;</em></p><p>Shree hastened her strokes, made by the wet mop on the floor and then they all sat together to eat. Her eyes were focused on the screen, her hands subconsciously put food in her mouth and the mouth did its job too, without any conscious effort. She was rather watching the video rather than eating, when her mom interrupted this stream of her unconscious actions.</p><p>&#8216;<em><strong>How many times do I have to tell you that no phone while eating. Talk to us too instead. Tell us about your day and anything you like. You don&#8217;t tell us anything these days you know.&#8217;</strong></em></p><p>Shree opened her mouth and was about to say something, but something hit her and she stopped.<em> &#8216;I am not in a mood to explain anything right now. I know eventually it would lead to an argument. I don&#8217;t wanna stress you or myself. You wouldn&#8217;t get it anyway.&#8217; She mumbled silently to herself.</em></p><p>Shree looked at her and put the phone aside but didn&#8217;t say anything. She got lost into her thoughts and the picture of her parents not understanding her thoughts and views, when she tried telling them, earlier, pulled up.</p><p><em><strong>&#8216;There&#8217;s no point in telling anything to you. You would assume I&#8217;m the one at fault and no other issue exist. It&#8217;s not you fault though, you guys were raised in a different time, things were different, you all had to suffer too much too but it was all normalised and i know you both try to do the best but still we have our differences. It&#8217;s better not to talk, rather than telling you things and then being judged and compared. It works well this way. I&#8217;m alright..&#8217;</strong></em></p><p><em>&#8216;See.. You again got lost.. What&#8217;s up</em>? If there&#8217;s something on your mind speak up.&#8217; her mother nodded in agreement to her dad.</p><p><em>&#8216;It&#8217;s nothing, i was just thinking, what all I had to do now. I better get started, i have lots of things to do.&#8217;</em> She said, licking the sauce off her plate and went away.</p><p>She came back to her room, where her diary was still lying on the table opened, the page read:</p><p><em><strong>&#8216;I feel so angry you know. I thought this day would be perfect but i woke up late, then spilled the tea and now I must mop too. How am I gonna get the time to watch that series, read the book, go out for a walk and study? I feel so bad at the end of the day when i see that I couldn&#8217;t do it all. I feel like crying you know. I don&#8217;t know how mom does all the chores everyday the same way, when she doesn&#8217;t even get time for herself? How does my friends in college manage time? I am not even in the college and yet I struggle with the time this much. I hate myself&#8230;.And my parents, they too don&#8217;t understand anything, why the hell there&#8217;s 2400 tasks to be done in 24 hours of the day? I am tired of trying to balance things..and mom..why did she even..&#8217;</strong></em></p><p><em><strong>(Written after a pause.. Staring at a fan helps, lol.)</strong></em></p><p><em><strong>It&#8217;s okay you know, it&#8217;s alright. You remember, it&#8217;s not about a perfect schedule but about balance and peace. It&#8217;s okay you know. We want to read, write, exercise etc to have mental peace right? So what&#8217;s the point of being frustrated. Let&#8217;s turn this into an opportunity to feel the music and dance. It would be fun, you know. Plus dad is also working, even when he is on a leave, I should help, no. They also deserve some peace. I&#8217;ll go.&#8217;</strong></em></p><p>She turned the page, made her to do list of the day and she was finishing the last sentence, when her phone blinked. A notification was there. She immediately opened her phone and it was of a comment on one of her posts on a blogging site. She smiled at the comment and responded to it.</p><p>She received a message in her inbox suddenly. It was from that same person who commented on her post. The conversation started with usual &#8216;Hi/Hello&#8217; and proceeded to &#8216;What you do/That&#8217;s interesting&#8217;. Before she knew, it was already thirty minutes and she typed, &#8216;Sorry, gotta go. Seeya later.&#8217;</p><p>She felt guilty of wasting time but opened her book and started doing her work. &#8216;Why I am still feeling restless. God, I hate when I can feel my heart beating fast. Come on Shree, you can do this, it isn&#8217;t that hard.&#8217; She quietly said to herself while solving physics.</p><p><strong>Few hours later</strong>, she again opened the website, and there was a message again. Her lips curved into a smile. This was the first time, someone has ever commented on her post and the first time she was talking to someone online. She was excited. A wave of happiness passed through her body and she opened the text, <em><strong>her lips curved even more&#8230;</strong></em></p><p><strong>Stay tuned for part 2.</strong></p><p>Thank you so much for reading. I would love to know your thoughts about this.</p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[A MYSTERIOUS NIGHT-]]></title><description><![CDATA[THE FIRST STORY OF MY TEN YEARS OLD BROTHER.]]></description><link>https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-mysterious-night-a11f97587610</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://amelioratinga.substack.com/p/a-mysterious-night-a11f97587610</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Ameliorating A]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Mon, 24 Mar 2025 11:38:08 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/b1651a17-3c47-4f3c-8d1d-7527fd33091b_800x533.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<h4>THE FIRST STORY OF MY TEN YEARS OLD&nbsp;BROTHER.</h4><p>Once upon a time, it was dark winter night.</p><p>A man was walking hurriedly down the street. His head was covered and no one could see his face. He was wearing a black black woolen jacket and he is looking very scary.<br>A man walking after the scary man. He was scared but he just kept walking after the scary man. The scary walks to a dark forest and a other man keeps walking after him. When they both reached black black dark forest, the scary man disappeared.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kqu9!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83616bd8-6b1b-4609-9909-d37b331fc320_800x533.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kqu9!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83616bd8-6b1b-4609-9909-d37b331fc320_800x533.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kqu9!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83616bd8-6b1b-4609-9909-d37b331fc320_800x533.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kqu9!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83616bd8-6b1b-4609-9909-d37b331fc320_800x533.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kqu9!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83616bd8-6b1b-4609-9909-d37b331fc320_800x533.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kqu9!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83616bd8-6b1b-4609-9909-d37b331fc320_800x533.jpeg" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/83616bd8-6b1b-4609-9909-d37b331fc320_800x533.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:null,&quot;width&quot;:null,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:null,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kqu9!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83616bd8-6b1b-4609-9909-d37b331fc320_800x533.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kqu9!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83616bd8-6b1b-4609-9909-d37b331fc320_800x533.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kqu9!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83616bd8-6b1b-4609-9909-d37b331fc320_800x533.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kqu9!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F83616bd8-6b1b-4609-9909-d37b331fc320_800x533.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div></div></div></a><figcaption class="image-caption">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@rosiesun?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Rosie Sun</a> on&nbsp;<a href="https://unsplash.com?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></div><p>The other man was also going on that direction. When he entered the dark forest, he listens some scary sounds of laughing &#8220;Ha Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha&#8221;.</p><p>He was very scared be, but he had to cross the dark forest to reach home.<br>He was going hurriedly to home, suddenly slow winds (breeze) started moving the trees leaves. The man was feeling very cold, but he just keeps walking. Suddenly he walks into the middle of the forest and after walking some more steps, suddenly he fell into the dark deep dark hole. He was shouting, &#8220;Help, help, is anybody present here!&#8221;</p><p>He was frightened he and asking for help but nobody could hear his voice.<br>Suddenly he saw a tunnel in the hole, he thinks this tunnel is shortcut exit of this forest.</p><p>He go into the tunnel, and he kept going. At that time he saw that he lost his way. He was trying very hard to escape from this tunnel but he failed&nbsp;. Soon he realise he was trapped in a never ending maize.</p><p>He was trying to move as fast as possible. Suddenly he saw a button. Then some things written on that button &#8220;99.99% was failed to escape with the button.&#8221; He was very scared but he had to do it.</p><p>He pressed the button and the ground broke. He started falling and saw many dangerous things. He closed his eyes and was about to faint, and suddenly he realised that he escaped&nbsp;. He sighed and thought that he was the only person to escape from that maze.</p><p><strong>PS: He used a prompt given in his book to write this story. There are lots of mistakes and grammatical errors. But he handwritten it in eight ruled pages, and that too in a single go, which is kind of a big deal for him at this stage. I am proud of him. I will tell him about the errors for future improvements, but I kept it unchanged here in order to restore its originality.</strong></p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!a9at!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F387852d4-2be6-4f90-885b-de6b005a08d0_800x1071.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!a9at!,w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F387852d4-2be6-4f90-885b-de6b005a08d0_800x1071.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!a9at!,w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F387852d4-2be6-4f90-885b-de6b005a08d0_800x1071.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!a9at!,w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F387852d4-2be6-4f90-885b-de6b005a08d0_800x1071.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!a9at!,w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F387852d4-2be6-4f90-885b-de6b005a08d0_800x1071.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!a9at!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F387852d4-2be6-4f90-885b-de6b005a08d0_800x1071.jpeg" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/387852d4-2be6-4f90-885b-de6b005a08d0_800x1071.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:null,&quot;width&quot;:null,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:null,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:null,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:true,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false,&quot;align&quot;:null,&quot;offset&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!a9at!,w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F387852d4-2be6-4f90-885b-de6b005a08d0_800x1071.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!a9at!,w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F387852d4-2be6-4f90-885b-de6b005a08d0_800x1071.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!a9at!,w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F387852d4-2be6-4f90-885b-de6b005a08d0_800x1071.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!a9at!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F387852d4-2be6-4f90-885b-de6b005a08d0_800x1071.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div></div></div></a></figure></div><p>Thank you for reading.</p>]]></content:encoded></item></channel></rss>