A Name Lost in Time
RIVAL HEARTS
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Dhruvin pushed open the door to his small, cozy home, the familiar scent of incense and fresh jasmine from Aajiâs puja corner filling the air. The soft hum of the television played in the background, mixing with the chirping of crickets outside. He set his bag on the table and ran a hand through his hair, still unable to shake off the image of her.
The way she had looked at himâlike he was someone to be despised. The way her laughter had echoed in the air before vanishing the second her eyes met his. It wasnât just dislike. It was something deeper. Something unresolved.
âYouâre back? Took you long today?â Aajiâs voice pulled him out of his thoughts as she peered at him from the kitchen.
He forced a small smile, walking over to touch her feet. "Just got a little late today, Aaji."
Aajoba, sitting in his usual chair by the window, glanced up from his tv serial, "What happened? Why are you so quiet?"
Dhruvin shook his head. "Nothing, Aajoba. College was normal."
Aaji narrowed her eyes, serving him a plate of hot dal khichdi. "khotha saangtoys." (Youâre lying.)
He chuckled lightly but didnât argue. He wasnât in the mood to explain things he didnât understand himself. Instead, he focused on his food, though every bite felt mechanical. His mind was somewhere else. On her.
After dinner, he went to his room, his haven. Maau, his fluffy white cat, jumped onto his bed, rubbing against his hand as he absentmindedly stroked her fur.
âWhat was her name?â he muttered to himself. He had never seen her before, yet she was familiar. The way she carried herself, the way her eyes hardened the moment she saw himâit wasnât just random disdain. There was history, one he wasnât aware of.
Pulling out his phone, he dialed Manan.
âBhai, youâre calling me? Kya baat hai?â (Bro, youâre calling me? Whatâs the matter?) Mananâs amused voice came through.
Dhruvin didnât waste time. "Thereâs this girl. I need to know her name, her department."
Manan whistled. "Oho, Deshmukh saab finally taking interest in someone? Kaun hai yeh lucky ladki?" (Oh, Mr. Deshmukh is finally taking interest in someone? Whoâs this lucky girl?)
"Bas pata laga. I donât know why, but... I need to know."
Manan hummed in thought. "Hmmm... At least bata kaise dikhti hai." (Youâll have to describe her. At least tell me what she looks like.)
Dhruvin leaned back, closing his eyes. "Pink kurta, jeans... Long brown hair. Jhumkas. And her laugh..." He paused, the sound of it still echoing in his mind. "She was with a guy, riding pillion on a scooty. I think theyâre close."
"The guy ka description bhi milega?" (Will I get a description of the guy too?)
"I donât know, man. He looked familiar. But the girl... She knew me. And she hates me. I just donât know why."
Manan was silent for a moment before sighing. "Theek hai, thoda time de. Pata lagata hoon." (Alright, give me some time. Iâll find out.)
Dhruvin hung up, staring at the ceiling. The room was dimly lit, shadows flickering from the streetlight outside. He ran a hand over his face, exhaustion settling in, but he knew sleep wouldnât come easy.
It never did.
He lay down, Maau curled up beside him. His eyelids felt heavy, yet his mind was restless. Eventually, exhaustion won, and he slipped into a dream.
A nightmare.
Darkness stretched around him. Cold, suffocating. And thenâ
A child, standing alone. His younger self. Five years old, searching. Small hands reaching out, looking for someoneâ
âMaa?â
No answer. He ran, bare feet scraping against the ground. Shadows of people walked past him, blurred figures, familiar but out of reach.
âBaba?â
No one turned around. No one stopped. He called, he screamedâbut they faded away, disappearing like smoke.
And then, laughter.
Not a warm, kind one. But cruel. Mocking.
He turned, and suddenly, he wasnât five anymore. He was in school, surrounded by voices that whispered behind his back, hands that shoved, eyes that watched but never intervened.
He couldnât move. He couldnât breathe. He was drowning.
With a sharp gasp, Dhruvin jerked awake, his heart hammering against his ribs. His hands trembled as he ran them through his sweat-drenched hair. The room was dark, silent, except for Maauâs soft purring beside him.
A nightmare.
The same one.
His breath came in ragged pulls as he glanced at the time. 3:47 AM. He hadnât even slept for an hour.
Letting out a bitter chuckle, he leaned against the headboard, rubbing his temples. This was his reality. This was why he barely sleptâbecause sleep only dragged him back to the past. And the past... was something he had spent years trying to bury.
He had fought against it. Against the depression that had nearly consumed him in school. Against the loneliness that had eaten away at him when he lost his parents. Against the emptiness that had made him a mere observer rather than a participant in life.
Had he missed something back then? Had he been so absent in his own misery that he had failed to see someone else drowning too?
He didnât have answers. But something told him the girl in pink did.
And this time, he wasnât going to ignore it.
â¤ï¸â¤ï¸â¤ï¸Authorâs Note
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