Chapter 16: chapter 16

More the days pass I had gradually become more and more captivated by the girl who was still unaware of the fact that someone is always there for her ,only for her,every minutes and seconds.Now I couldn't ignore the truth which my heart has already known  from the beginning since the day I had seen her “I am in love with Sanyogita”.Yes you get me right “I am feeling like to reach at the top of the world to speak loudly That I am in Love,the pitch will be so high that it can be reach beyond the universe”. It sounds crazy,I haven't even talked to her till now. It’s only been a few weeks that I saw her,Though she is still unaware of it.But does that really matter?I don't know if she has a boyfriend or not.I hope not.Please God,let her be single because if any case she is not then I don't know what shall I do then.I was on the way to a party hosted by friends, but alas! fate had other plans. As I turned a corner, I spotted Sanyogita again, and my heart skipped a beat as usual. Without giving into second thought , I changed my plans and followed her.I watched her quaint a bookstore, its shelves stacked with literary treasures. I trailed behind, careful enough she couldn't feel my presence following. Some part of me teased me “ hey dude you turned into creepy stalker just like SRK from Movie Darr but de never got Kiran “ I shut up those inner voices and refocused back to my girl .  She browsed through the aisles, I slipped inside, selecting a book to conceal my face while keeping her in my sights.I held the book up, pretending to be engrossed, but my gaze remained fixed on Sanyogita. She seemed oblivious to my presence until...Her eyes suddenly locked onto mine, and her expression transformed into one of disgust. "Chiii!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with abhorrence. A wave of confusion coursed through my veins as I saw her leave the store in a hurry.My gaze followed her out, but when I looked down at the book in my hand, my face burned with shame."Oh! Shit," I cursed my star under my breath. In my haste, I'd grabbed a nude girls magazine, its cover now staring back at me like a sarcastic verdict. What was I getting myself into? I wondered, feeling like a lovesick puppy.I quickly hid the magazine behind a nearby shelf, my heart racing with embarrassment. How could I be so careless ? I chide myself, feeling like a teenager caught red-handed by his girlfriend.  Wait, she isn't my girlfriend yet , but very soon she will be all mine , only mine.I stepped out of the bookstore, I couldn't shake off the feeling of humiliation. What if she had seen my face? What if she knew I was following her? I spotted her walking again , her long hair swaying with each step. I slowed down my pace, careful enough not to be seen, but my eyes remained fixed on her.………Another day, another chance encounter. I was searching for a parking spot, when I saw her standing at a bus stop. I quickly grabbed an empty slot and clouded down my car and followed her onto the crowded local bus. The sea of faces blurred together as I pushed my way through the throng, my eyes fixed on her.The bus was a microcosm of Mumbai's pandemonium , with bodies packed like sardines, each facing a testament to the city's diverse population. I had heard  about the city's crowds, but nothing compared to what I've experienced directly today in my life. As I inched closer, I noticed she was engaged in an animated conversation with a girl, their laughter, and smiles reflecting a deep friendship. They seemed lost in their own world, oblivious to the commotion around them.Anger flashed in her eyes as she spun around , her hand slapping my face with a sharp sting. I stumbled back, amazed, as she poured a stream of wrath."How dare you touch me, you scoundrel.  You're trying to misbehave with me on the bus, you pervert " she yelled, her voice echoing through the crowded vehicle.I stood frozen, unable to defend myself as bystanders rushed to her aid, their fists flying in my direction. I wanted to protest, to tell her she had misunderstood, but the words caught in my throat."It wasn't me ...  I didn't mean to," I tried to say, but my voice was left unfinished in my throat. Meanwhile, a pervert, who had been ogling Sanyogita throughout the bus ride, had been trying to touch her with malicious intent. But in the chaos, her slap had mistakenly landed on me, not the true culprit.The blows kept coming, each one landing with precision until I stumbled backwards, shielding my face with my hands. The bus erupted into chaos, passengers shouting and trying to intervene.Sanyogita's eyes blazed with anger, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. "Get out! Get out of the bus!" she screamed, her voice hoarse from yelling.As I stepped off the bus, the doors closed behind me, and the vehicle sped away, leaving me reeling on the sidewalk.I stood still , blank, perplexed,  trying to process what had just happened. Sanyogita's slap still stung in my cheek , but it was nothing compared to the pain of her misdirected anger. I couldn't help but wonder what had led her to think I was a pervert. Had I unknowingly given her a reason to believe that? The questions swirled in my mind , leaving me baffled and confused...............The rest of the day, I muse on in silence, my anger simmering like a pot left unattended on a stove. I couldn't shake off the sting of Sanyogita's slap or the hurtful words she'd hurled at me. Every time I thought about it, my blood boiled anew.The next day when I spotted her again, standing on the balcony of the academic building, her gaze lost in the distance. Yet I quickly averted my eyes, still nursing my wounded pride. My mind is still fixated on Sanyogita. Why had she jumped to conclusions? Why had she slapped me?In class, my friends sensed my dark mood and kept their distance. They were all familiar to trifle with me when I was in a rage. Although I sat at my desk in the last row , my eyes fixed on the floor, my mind seething with resentment. The lecturer droned on, I shredded a page from my notebook, I crumpled the paper into a ball and hurled it out the window, watching as it soared through the air, a tiny, insignificant thing, much like my own bruised ego.A few days later, at our college function, I reluctantly sat in the auditorium hall. The student performances were dragging on, and I was itching to escape. But then, I saw her. Sanyogita Sharma. She was in the spotlight, and she was appearing like an enthralling vision,  a bewitching celestial nymph attire in a simple yet classy white lehenga choli with a flowing dupatta draped on her shoulder. Her shining silky loose hair swept down her back like a stream of moonlight, and her shiny lips glistened with a touch of pink lipstick. Long earrings brushed against her neck, and her twinkling eyes gleamed like diamonds, highlighted with a delicate application of kajal.When she came onto the stage, I had this feeling of possessiveness. It irritated me when other guys would comment on things like, "She looks fantastic." I wanted to be the only man to look at her, no other men allowed. I didn't want anyone else to gaze at her to admire her beauty. She was mine to look at, mine alone.And then she started singing. Her voice rang out across the auditorium, a sweet serenade that took me captive. But what followed left me reeling. The song she had sung was the very same song that I had written for her, the one that I had ripped up and thrown away. I had been punched in the stomach. "How did she get this?" I thought, my thoughts racing with whys.... 🎵🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶I was awestruck , my mind reeling with bombardment questions. How did she get her hands on my song? I threw it away, hadn't I? Or had I just thought I did? The memory of that day came flooding back, and I recalled the page flying out of the window. Could she have found it?When Sanyogita's voice soared through the final notes of the song, the audience erupted into applause. I joined in, my hands clapping mechanically as my brain struggled to process what I had just heard.She smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and I felt a pang of pride. She had taken my song, my words, and made them her own. And she had done it beautifully.The anchor approached her to express gratitude for the enchanting performance, Sanyogita's eyes sparkled with humility. "It wasn't my song," she revealed, her voice like a gentle breeze. "I found it on a page that fell from a window in our college a few days ago. I'm not sure who wrote it or who it was intended for, but I felt compelled to share it with all of you."Her gaze drifted across the audience as if searching for the elusive writer. "If it was written to a person, I'm sorry to be disturbing your personal feelings. If it was written in a state of anger or disappointment, I'd like to provide a message from the writer."Her words oozed with genuineness, as if honey were flowing out of a pot. "If you are true, honest, and ready to undergo any storm just to validate your love, surely you'll be able to capture the heart of your sweetheart. I wish, God, to reunite you two , that love will overcome all."Her words struck me with a gentle arrow, but it was not vengeance that compelled them – it was love. My love. The love which I had attempted to convey in my song, now reverberates back to me on Sanyogita's lips.I saw Sanyogita leave the spot in a hurry , I felt a pang of disappointment wash over me. I had been so close to finally speaking with her, but she had already left before I approached her . I sighed, feeling like fate was conspiring against me.But then, my eyes landed on a glint of silver on the ground. An earring, delicate, and intricate lay abandoned where Sanyogita had stood. I knew instantly that it belonged to her. Without thinking, I picked it up, my fingers closing around it like a treasured possession.I brought the earring to my lips, planting a tender kiss on its surface. It was a silly gesture, but I felt a connection to her through this small, lost thing.I finally summoned the courage to go up to Sanyogita, my heart pounding with excitement. It was a regular day at college, with students wandering around, talking, and laughing, but I was only interested in her. I had been delaying this conversation for way too long, scared of how she would react after the bus incident.It was another,  I couldn't help but think about what I had learned from our mutual friend, Risav. He had been Sanyogita's senior at her previous school, and I had sought him out to learn more about her. Risav had shared a devastating truth about Sanyogita's past, one that had left me reeling.Sanyogita's father had died of a heart attack on the same evening when he found the dead body of his elder daughter hanging from a rope in her room. This tragedy was even greater because the elder daughter had been pushed to commit suicide by the spoilt son of a wealthy family, who had blackmailed and used her for his own perverse pleasure.My thoughts were filled with the horrific incidents of Sanyogita, and I was not able to get rid of the feeling of confusion. Her anger against rich people and their sons was justified, considering that she had gone through a tragedy. The agony and trauma she had suffered was inimaginable. I felt immense sympathy and understanding towards her, and my heart ached for her. But it also crossed my mind that my own identity might become a wall between us. I was, after all, the son of a rich businessman.The thought sent a pang of anxiety through me. I couldn't let Sanyogita know about my wealth status, not yet. I needed to find a way to approach her to make her see me for who I truly was, beyond my family's wealth. But how?Her family's heart wrenching tragedy pondered through my mind like a whirlpool . I realized that my feelings for Sanyogita went beyond mere infatuation. I loved her deeply and intensely. She is the one I wanted to be with, the one I wanted to protect and care for. And I knew, with absolute certainty, that she was meant to be mine.I would find a way to win her heart to make her see beyond my wealth and family status. I would be patient, kind, and understanding. I would show her that I was different, that I wasn't like the others who had hurt her. With this resolve, I set out to approach Sanyogita, my heart filled with hope and my mind filled with strategies. Meanwhile, I learned that a boy named Vicky, one of my only rivals in college, had ragged Sanyogita.When he attempted to misbehave with her, she slapped him forcefully across the face in protest.Vicky broke a priceless glass piece, and I detested seeing tears in her eyes.I had a fight with Vicky that day, after a long time apart, and my blood was boiling inside.I repeatedly struck him in the face and stomach with punches.Even though he hit me back, it did not lessen my rage.After a few days, I was standing outside Sanyogita's house, waiting for her to arrive.When I saw her approaching, I called a little boy to deliver these gifts—wrapped in paper—along with the latter.In exchange for a chocolate, the boy gave it to her.Sanyogita enquired, "What is that?"“Ek bhaiya ne diya ("A brother gave it!") !” After that, he ran away. I hid myself behind a tree.Sanyogita opened the letter in confusion.The letters””Hello Sanyogita,   Tum mujhe nahi janti,mein bas tumse itna kehna chahta hoon jo ladki dusro ke chaihrepe muskaan lane ke liye itna kuch karsakti hai Uski aankhon mein aansoo ache nahi lagte.In masoom se chehre pe agar udasi aye toh puri duniya mei udasi chha jayegi.Mein tume ek pyari si smiley ke saath ei white glass crystal showpiece de raha hoon.Mein janta hoon yai pehle wale ko replace toh nahi karsakta ,,magar phir bhi ,I hope so ki tumhe yai acha lage.(You do not know me, but I just wanted to let you know that the girl who can make people smile so much does not look good with tears in her eyes.There will be sorrow throughout the entire world if these helpless faces are devoid of happiness.I am giving it to you: a showpiece made of white glass crystal with a cute smiley.Though I know it can not take the place of the first one, I still hope you like it.)                                  tumhara Naya dost(Your New Friend)                                                                          A charming smile blossomed on Sanyogita's lips as she unwrapped the paper to reveal an exquisite white glass crystal ball. Inside, a delicate figurine of a sweet little girl sat on a tiny swinging cot, her face radiating joy. The intricate details of the figurine and the crystal ball sparkled in the light, captivating Sanyogita's attention.She took the crystal ball to her room, her fingers tracing the smooth surface as she admired it. As she opened her wardrobe to place the gift on a shelf, a page suddenly slipped out from between her clothes and fell on her leg. She picked it up, noticing that the handwriting on the page was eerily similar to the letters she had received.Her eyes widened in surprise as she realized the connection. The same person who had written the heartfelt letters had also sent her the beautiful crystal ball. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she wondered who this mysterious person could be.Sanyogita's mind raced with questions as she examined the page and the letters again. The handwriting, the language, and the emotions expressed - everything was identical. She was taken aback, her heart beating faster with excitement and curiosity.Sanyogita's eyes scanned the page, searching for any clues that might reveal the identity of the mysterious person. As she read the words again, she felt a deep connection to the emotions expressed. It was as if the writer had seen into her soul and understood her deepest feelings.She looked around her room, feeling a sense of wonder and excitement. Who could be writing her these beautiful letters and sending her such thoughtful gifts? And why were they choosing to remain anonymous?As she pondered these questions, Sanyogita's thoughts turned to the confrontation with Vicky. She had been so upset and hurt by his behaviour, but the letters and gifts had brought a sense of comfort and peace. It was as if the writer knew exactly what she needed to hear and feel.With a newfound sense of determination, Sanyogita decided to find out who was behind the letters and gifts. A sense of excitement and anticipation washed over her , wondering what she might find.