I don't know why but arin was slowly dissolving in my thoughts—like wet ink silently gets absorbed in the fibers of paper.
That evening I was sitting in my room, alone. Only light waves of music were floating in the room, as if some smoke was dissolving in my breath.
The tune was slow, faint and seeping into the inner walls.
"Dil ki daali mein buds started blooming... Jab nazaaon nazaaon se meet lagi..."
The words were penetrating inside me like an old wound.
I kept drowning in that rhythm with my eyes closed.
But beneath that tune—in that sweet silence—Arin's face had appeared.
Slowly, but stubbornly.
Arin.
He had come into my mind uninvited, like an old wound that started seeping on its own.
His silence, his gaze, the weight of those moments when he would pause without saying anything… I couldn't get him out of me.
I opened my eyes irritably, clenching my hair in my fists.
Aira, calm down .
I told myself.
Arin? Really? You're going crazy.
But the blush on my face had revealed me.
No matter how much you try to deny it, the heart never lies.
I got up and kept looking at the window.
The moon was hanging as it was—silent and shining, as if smiling at my stupidity.
Am I starting to like him?
The question slipped from my lips, soft and broken.
My heart was in a strange turmoil—as if something was being left or maybe something was starting.
I gathered myself, hugging my knees to my chest, while the tune still flowed through the room.
The night was spread outside—like the night that hides all the answers within itself.
The days kept crawling like tired shadows.
Suhina had also given up the game. Or maybe she was engrossed in Tenzin—something new resonated in her furtive glances.
I didn't care anymore.
Because my whole existence, my whole thoughts had started revolving around Arin.
I had just made Arin's name an excuse that I liked him but now that excuse had started weighing on my heart.
________________________________________
One evening, when I felt like running away from myself, I came out.
Just with some excuse—milk, bread—anything.
The crowd of the market, the wet roads, the yellow streetlights—everything seemed like a hazy dream.
I moved forward, and then I saw him.
Arin was standing against the wall. Black hoodie, cap pulled down. Unconcerned, but with a strange softness.
Then his eyes met mine.
"What are You doing here?" His voice was the same—deep and direct. I held my breath.
"Umm... I came to buy some stuff." My heart was jumping in my ribs.
"Oh," he bowed his head slightly. "I live nearby."
"Hmm." I looked away—as if I had developed a great interest in the shop.
But he didn't stop. "Why do you always look so lost?" There was a slight laugh in his words—soft, teasing.
I pursed my lips. "I'm not lost," I said softly. "You just... can't see me."
His hands moved in his pockets, as if he was thinking deeply about something.
"What do you mean?" he asked, bending down.
I got stuck.
The words got stuck in my throat.
"I mean.. why do you keep everyone away from you?"
This question came out of years of silent pain.
He remained silent.
He just kept looking at me with his deep eyes.
Then he whispered softly:
"Sometimes... it is easier to be alone."
And then, without saying anything, he disappeared into the crowd.
He left me there...
Looking at his departing shoulders,
Feeling the silent yearning
Which had now become my own.