Lost and Found

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The entire day had been a whirlwind of activity. The house, already draped in warm Diwali hues, still needed finishing touches—fresh garlands, vibrant rangoli, and the last-minute decorations that Aaji had insisted on.

Aashna and Dhruvin worked tirelessly, moving from one corner of the house to another. The fragrance of marigold and roses filled the air as they hung the garlands, their fingers brushing occasionally, sending a jolt through both of them.

The rangoli had been a challenge. Aashna had drawn the outlines, while Dhruvin, despite his best efforts, smudged half of it, earning a playful smack on his arm.

“Dhruvin! At least try to be useful,” she huffed, brushing away the colored powder from her hands.

“Aye, madam, I am useful! I bring aesthetic chaos,” he grinned, winking at her.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

By the time they were done, exhaustion had settled in their bones. They lay sprawled on the floor, staring at the ceiling, too tired to even move.

“I can’t feel my legs,” Aashna groaned, stretching slightly.

“Forget legs, I can’t feel my existence,” Dhruvin muttered, his head tilted toward her.

She chuckled but before either of them could drift into another teasing conversation, Aaji walked in, hands on her hips.

“Bas bas, enough lying around. Go freshen up! Party ke liye tayyar hona hai.” (Enough resting. Go get ready for the party.)

With a groan, they peeled themselves off the floor and dragged themselves upstairs.

Aashna sat on Dhruvin’s bed, her fingers tangled in the mess of jewelry she was trying to sort.

Across the room, Dhruvin stood at the ironing board, pressing out the creases from his kurta. The rhythmic swish of the iron filled the silence between them, comforting yet heavy with unspoken words.

Biting her lip, she hesitated before finally gathering the courage to ask, “Dhruvin… I’ve been meaning to ask. Where are your parents? You never talk about them.”

The iron paused mid-motion. His grip on the fabric tightened ever so slightly before he set it down. A deep breath, his back straightening as if preparing himself for battle.

Turning around, he met her gaze, his eyes unreadable. “They died when I was five. Car accident. I was the only one who survived.”

The words hit her like a blow. She had expected a story, maybe an estranged family or a strained relationship—but not this. Her heart clenched as she watched him sit beside her, eyes welling up but voice steady, as if he had rehearsed this conversation a thousand times.

“I don’t remember much… just flashes. The crash, the noise, the hospital. I think the hardest part wasn’t losing them—it was realizing that life just… moved on without them. There was no sibling to share the grief with, no one who truly understood. I felt so alone.”

Aashna’s breath hitched. She had always thought of Dhruvin as someone larger than life, someone who carried an effortless charm. But here he was, stripped of that persona, just a boy who had carried his grief in silence.

“I fell into depression,” he continued, his voice quieter. “I barely functioned in school. My friends would joke around, and I wouldn’t even notice. I was lost in my own world, trying to forget that I had once been part of a family.”

He exhaled deeply, his fingers tightening around the fabric of his tshirt. “It wasn’t just the loneliness, Aashna. It was the nightmares. Every night, I’d wake up gasping, sweating, feeling like I was trapped in that car again. And after a while… I stopped talking about it. Stopped crying. I figured I was just making it worse for Aaji and Aajoba, so I pretended. Pretended to be fine, pretended to be happy. And when you pretend long enough, you start forgetting what’s real and what’s not.”

And just like that, realization dawned upon her. All these years, she had believed Dhruvin had ignored her suffering. That he had turned a blind eye to the bullying, to her pain. But the truth was—he hadn’t even been aware. He had been drowning in his own darkness, completely disconnected from the world around him.

Tears welled up in her eyes, guilt clawing at her. How many years had she wasted hating him for something that was never his fault?

Dhruvin frowned at her sudden tears. “Aashu, why are you crying?”

She shook her head, forcing a watery smile. “Just… sad for you. You didn’t deserve this.”

Overwhelmed, he reached out, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. No words were needed. The warmth of his embrace said enough.

After a moment, she pulled back slightly, searching his face. “Is that why you have nightmares?”

He nodded. “Yeah. They started after the accident. At some point, I stopped crying because I felt like I was just burdening Aaji and Aajoba. Instead, I faked being okay. And over time, I got so good at pretending that I forgot how to actually feel.”

“Does Aaji-Aajoba know about the nightmares?”

“No.” He shook his head firmly. “And they never should. It would be too much for them. You’re the only person I’ve ever told.”

The weight of his confession settled between them. It was too much for him, too overwhelming. He stood up, hands in his pockets, and cleared his throat. “We should get ready. We have a party to attend.”

Before he could turn away completely, Aashna stood up and wrapped her arms around his torso. Her grip was tight, desperate, as if trying to squeeze out all the pain he had ever felt.

He froze.

Looking up, her voice barely above a whisper, she said, “Now you have me. Don’t ever hide again. Come to me.”

His heart stuttered. His hand instinctively came up, resting over hers.

And then, before he could say anything, she tiptoed and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Dhruvin felt his breath hitch. His body tensed before relaxing into the warmth of the moment, his arms slowly wrapping around her in return.

Just as his heart started to settle, Aaji’s voice rang through the hallway. “Arey! Tayyar nahi hue ab tak?” (Oh! You two still aren’t ready?)

Aashna pulled away, her cheeks turning red as she quickly stepped back. Dhruvin let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Chalo, madam. You heard the boss lady,” he smirked, offering her his hand dramatically.

She rolled her eyes but placed her hand in his, their fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

As they stepped out of the room, something between them had changed. A shift so subtle yet so powerful that neither of them could ignore it anymore.

And yet, deep down, Aashna made a silent decision—she would never tell him about the bullying. About how his best friend bullied her how he had just stood there, doing nothing. Because after everything he had been through, the guilt would be too much for him to bear.

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Author’s Note

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