Carve your own journey #Episode 30

“Listen, I need to talk to you about this,” Kabir said softly, brushing his fingers against hers. “He was a fool to hurt you like that.”

“Kabir, please stop,” Vaidehi interrupted, her voice firm as she folded her hands in her lap. “Why bring all that pain back? I’m dealing with the breakup just fine. Don’t dig into wounds that are trying to heal.”

“But I can see it’s still breaking you,” he whispered, gently squeezing her shoulder.

She shrugged his hand off. “Spare me the life advice, Kabir. I’m not in the mood for sermons.”

“Well, I can’t help it,” he muttered, eyes locked with hers. “He was blind to let someone like you go. Every time I look into those deep blue eyes... I wonder how lucky I am just to know you.”

Vaidehi raised an eyebrow. “Wait... you really think I’m hot?”

“Hot?” He laughed. “You're fire, Vaidehi. Dangerous, dazzling fire. And your eyes—anyone who looks into them finds a new version of themselves.” His fingers absently trailed through the freshly cut grass.

She blinked slowly, her glacial eyes flickering with amusement.

“And your smile...” he sighed. “I’m not even armed with words for that. It's lethal. As for your lips... let’s just say they remind me of midnight—mystery, depth, and desire.”

Color crept into her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered downward.

“And these hands,” he continued, gently tracing her fingers, “I’d give my heart just to hold them. And if I ever did... I don’t think I’d be able to let go.”

She gave him a sideways glance, lips curling into a mischievous grin. “You’ve gotten good at flirting. For a second... I almost fell for it.”

“That’s because I meant every word,” he said, his voice warm and unguarded. “This—what I just said—wasn’t a line. It was just... what my heart felt. My tongue just followed.”

They sat there, cocooned in a world that felt like it had waited just for them. The emerald grass below, the wide blue sky above, and birdsong floating around like music from a memory. They were beneath their old banyan tree—the same tree that had silently witnessed their school days. The laughter. The fights. The secrets. It had all happened here.

Now, most of those friends were just names on a screen. Veronica had moved across the world last year. And in the space of five short—yet long—years, childhood had slipped into the past like a paper boat carried away by the river.

Vaidehi’s eyes wandered to the waters of Nyari, where young children played in abandon, their laughter echoing against time. A sudden ache rose in her chest—the ache of a golden childhood, when joy was simple and life was light.

Kabir’s voice broke her reverie.

“So... what really happened?” he asked gently.