N  A  I  N  T  A  R  A

I am sitting on a train going to a place I never wanted to go, but now I have to.

I don’t understand why God makes everything so difficult for me. Somehow, I had been managing my life, but now I don’t know how I will handle all of that again.

I am sitting by the window, the train moving at a very high speed. In front of me, a woman and her husband are sitting together, listening to songs.

“**Kaanton se kheench ke yeh aanchal…

Tod ke bandhan baandhe payal…

Koi na roko dil ki udaan ko…

Dil woh chala aa…

Aaj phir jeene ki tamanna hai,

Aaj phir marne ka iraada hai… (2x)**”

The old melody drifted through the train compartment from the woman sitting across from me. She leaned lightly against her husband’s shoulder, humming along with a soft smile.

And strangely every word felt like it belonged to me, like my heart had finally found a voice.

I stared out the window, watching the blurred fields rush past.

Going back to Delhi is the worst thing I know, but I don’t have a choice.

Dadu’s health isn’t good, and I love him too much to stay away. Of course he misses me, how could he not? It’s been seven years since we last met. We talk on phone calls, video calls, but that’s never enough for someone who just wants to hold you once.

He is very important to me. After Nishi, if there’s anyone I love this much, it’s him. That’s the only reason I am going to Delhi, and yes, my college’s annual function is also happening there this year, my last function in this college.

It feels like everything is trying to pull me back to Delhi.

“**Apne hi bas mein nahi main,

Dil hai kahin toh hoon kahin main…

Ho apne hi bas mein nahi main

Dil hai kahin to hoon kahin main

Ho jaane kya pa ke meri zindagi ne

Hans kar kaha ha ha ha ha ha ha

Aaj phir jeene ki tamanna hai

Aaj phir marne ka irada hai (x2)**”

The song continues, and I keep getting closer to my destination. I let out a faint breath.

I don’t feel like I belong anywhere. The people sitting around me looked happy, complete, as if life had handed them everything they ever wished for.

That woman, the way her husband looked at her, soft, protective, full of quiet love, just like the kind I’ve only read about in books.

I had something like that once, or maybe I just imagined it.

But one thing I know for sure, love isn’t meant for me. It never was, and it never will be, and now it doesn’t even matter anymore.

The train began to slow down, and I have reached the place I never wanted to come to, the place I almost hate, but it feels like fate has its own plans, plans no one knows about.

A mechanical voice echoed through the speakers—

“May I have your attention please. Train number 543210 from Agra to Delhi has arrived on Platform number 6. Passengers are requested to collect their luggage and deboard carefully. Thank you.”

The train had stopped.

I don’t know what to do next. I am just sitting in my place while people around me pick up their luggage and get down. From the window, I can see people coming toward the train, some climbing in, some leaving, some being welcomed by their families.

And me, I don’t think anyone has come for me, and I don’t even know if anyone would be happy that I am here.

If I don’t get down now, the train will start again, so whether I want to or not, I have to.

I slowly pull my bag down from the overhead rack and check my belongings once. Everything is there.

I move toward the exit with the crowd. People are pushing past each other, some getting down, some getting in.

I stop near the train gate.

Okay I can do this. I am not going to stay here forever. The moment Dadu gets better and my annual function ends, I will go back to Agra.

The train is about to move again. I step down onto the platform.

The moment my feet touched the platform, a strange emptiness settled inside me.

I am standing in the middle of the platform. People are moving all around me. I can see the way out ahead, but my feet refuse to move, like they are stuck in one place.

I am lost in my thoughts when suddenly I hear the sound of dhol.

I look ahead and see four or five men coming toward me, playing dhol loudly.

“Is someone’s baraat leaving from here?” I murmur to myself. “But why are they coming toward me?”

Within seconds, they surround me and start playing even louder. People around begin staring at me, and I don’t understand what is happening.

Slowly, the sound of the dhol lowers. I take that moment and am about to ask something when suddenly someone covers my eyes from behind.

The hands are soft, and from the touch alone I can tell it is definitely a girl, but whose?

“Hey? Who are you… what’s going on? Open my eyes.”I said, struggling to free myself from her hands, but I couldn’t.

“First guess who I am,” a familiar female voice said playfully, “only then I’ll let you open your eyes, otherwise not.”

I froze.

Just hearing her voice, I already knew who it was how could I not? But the fun in annoying her is a different kind of joy altogether.

“I don’t know who you are,” I said.

And suddenly, her hands slipped away from my eyes, and the very next second—

“Ouch!” I groaned.

She pinched my waist. This girl—she always does this. I don’t know what kind of obsession she has with pinching my waist.

“Kuttiii chudail! What kind of best friend are you? You can’t even recognize my voice?” she said.

“Nishi!” I turned toward her, rubbing my side. “Are you mad? Why do you always pinch me, idiot?!”

She smirked.

I was wearing a crop top and wide-leg jeans. A small part of my waist was visible and she clearly took advantage of that.

“If it were up to me–” she started, but before she could finish, I cut her off. I know this girl too well. She’s completely crazy. she speaks before she thinks.

“Forgive me, O great goddess,” I said dramatically, folding my hands. “I was joking. I knew it was you.”

She didn’t say anything. She just kept looking at me. She was standing so close and all I wanted in that moment was to hug her tightly.

“Now come here,” I said, opening my arms.

She rushed forward and hugged me tightly.

“I missed you sooo much,” she mumbled, holding me as if I might disappear.

“Me too,” I whispered.

We stayed like that for a while. Then I felt something damp on my shoulder.

“Nishi?”

She hummed softly.

I pulled back.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“Why are you crying, pagal?”

“Who’s crying? I’m not crying,” she sniffed, quickly wiping her tears.

“Yeah, and I’m a donkey,” I muttered—then instantly regretted it.

“Obviously you are,” she shot back.

“Stop dropping pearls from your eyes or I’ll start crying too,” I said, hugging her again.

“I really missed you. Last time we met was three years ago—on my birthday. After I begged you so much to come.”

I smiled faintly.

Yes, I came secretly. No one knew except her family. She had said if I didn’t come, she would never celebrate her birthday again. She had already spent four birthdays without me.

And I never wanted her to hate her birthday like I do. Never. That’s why, after she insisted so much, I came stayed with her for a few days, just the way she wanted and then left again.

“We talked every day on video calls,” I said softly.

“Still, you weren’t here with me.”

“Bas kar, don’t get this emotional,” I said gently. “I’ll start crying for real. And I’m here now, okay?”

She only nodded. Slowly, we pulled away from the hug.

“Now first tell me, what is all this?” I asked, glancing at the drummers standing nearby.

“What do you mean ‘what is this’?” she grinned. “My best friend is coming back to Delhi after three whole years. This much celebration toh banta hai. You have no idea how happy I am.”

And before I could react, she leaned in and planted a quick kiss on my right cheek.

“Eww, Nishi!” I groaned.

“Oh god,” she rolled her eyes. “Ugh! How could I forget you don’t like all this at all.”

Of course, I don’t like physical touch at all. There’s no real reason... I just don’t. Maybe it only feels good in books.

Romance has always felt better in stories than in real life.

“Have some shame,” I muttered. “Hum logon ke beech mein log hain… galat samajhne lagenge.”

(“There are people around us… they’ll start misunderstanding.”)

“Areee, I didn’t kiss you on the lips. It’s not that big a deal,” she said casually. “And let people think whatever they want. I love you, that’s what matters.”

“Are you starting to get interested in girls now?” I said, a teasing smile playing on my lips.

“Yes, just one girl. Her name is Naintara,” she replied softly, her eyes lingering on me with quiet certainty.

“Oh really… then I’ll definitely have to tell your boyfriend. Your interests are shifting,” I teased, lifting an eyebrow, trying to keep my tone light even as something inside me stirred.

She did have a boyfriend, someone I had never met. I only knew his name. I had never seen him, never spoken to him. Maybe someday.

I just hoped her story would not turn out like mine.

“Hello? Tara madam?” Nishi waved her hand in front of my face, pulling me back. “Where are you lost?”

“Nowhere,” I said quietly, gathering myself. “Shall we go home?”

She nodded and told the drummers they could leave.

The festive noise slowly faded behind us as we walked out of the station, the echoes of celebration dissolving into a calm, lingering silence.

Cars lined the entrance. Drivers called out to passengers. Horns blared. Luggage wheels scraped against the ground.

Then my gaze fell on a car parked right in front of me, and I saw someone I had not seen in years.

My dad.

Someone I had not spoken to in so long, not even once.

He stood outside the car, talking on a call, completely absorbed. But why was he here? I had not told him to come. When I needed him, he was not there. So why now?

Then I noticed Bua approaching from the other side.

Oh.

So they came to pick me up.

But why?

Bua walked up to me, her face lighting up the moment she saw me. “My Tara!” she rushed forward and pulled me into a tight hug.

I hugged her back.

But my eyes stayed on him.

Standing near the car. On a call. Still busy. Work always came first.

“You should have called after reaching,” Sanvi Bua said. “Delhi traffic made us so late.”

“Bua, relax. I was already here,” Nishi smiled.

“Yes, beta,” Bua said warmly. “Tara’s best friend is always with her.”

“Come on, let’s go. We’re getting late,” she added, gesturing ahead.

My chest tightened.

Going with her meant going with him. And I could not do that. Not now. Maybe not ever. I would not be able to handle myself, I knew it.

So I gathered myself and spoke softly, “Bua, you go. I’ll come with Nishi in her car. I need to pick up cookies for Anvi from her bakery.”

“There’s no need for cookies,” she replied gently. “You coming with us is more than enough.”

“She loves cookies, Bua, you know that. I’ll come, okay? You go ahead,” I said.

She looked at me for a long moment, as if trying to read everything I was not saying.

Then, after a brief pause, she nodded. “Fine. Come safely.”

Dad looked at me once.

Expressionless.

Bua walked back to him and said something, probably that I was not coming. He replied briefly. She did not argue. She just got into the car after giving me one last look.

They left.“Tara, you should have gone with them,” Nishi said softly. “At least after so many years, you could have talked to him–”

Something inside me snapped.

“If you don’t want to take me, just say it,” I said sharply. “I’ll book a cab.”

“I didn’t mean that!” she said quickly, her voice filled with concern.

Why, God, why is everything so difficult? I did not want to hurt her, but I still did. Why did I even say that? I know she only wants what is best for me.

Silence settled heavily between us.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, the weight of my own words sinking in.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean to sound rude,” I whispered, my voice softer now. “I know you only want what’s good for me.”

“It’s okay, baba.. leave it,” she said gently. “We won’t talk about it. Let’s go, or we’ll get late.”

I nodded, managing a faint smile.

We walked toward her car.

“You still ride your scooty?” I asked, trying to ease the heaviness.

“Rarely,” she said, starting the engine. “Remember what happened three years ago?”

A small, real smile finally appeared on my lips. “How could I forget?”

It was when I came to her house during her birthday. One day we went out just like that, and it started raining. While returning, the scooty slipped on a muddy patch and we fell. Our clothes were covered in mud, but instead of worrying about the fall or the mess, we just started dancing in the rain.

.

.

.

.

.

The road stretched ahead, and our conversation flowed just as endlessly.

We talked about everything, about people, memories, and the years that slipped away from us.

After a while, we stopped at her bakery.

Her bakery.

Her childhood dream, now standing real and beautiful.

Warm lights glowed through the glass. The smell of fresh bread wrapped around us. Sweetness in the air. Sweetness in memories.

I picked up some cookies and a few other things.

Then we got back into the car.

After that, we drove toward home.

And honestly, I don’t know how everything will be there. I don’t know how I am going to handle it all. I don’t know what new storm is waiting to enter my life. I don’t know if I will even be able to stay there.

A  U  T  H  O  R '  S   POV

The Sharma House stood glowing in quiet elegance, dressed as if a festival had arrived before its guests. The decorations were graceful, not loud—warm lights, fresh drapes, and a welcoming stillness that wrapped around the home like an embrace.

In the front garden, tall sunflowers swayed gently in the soft afternoon breeze, their golden faces turned toward the sun, adding a cheerful warmth to the atmosphere.

It was early afternoon.

Sanvi and Rishi had already reached home. Rishi had left for the office, but Sanvi remained in the hall, waiting.

Waiting for her.

Beside her sat little Anvi on the sofa, her restless eyes drifting again and again toward the entrance.

“When will she come?” Anvi asked, unable to hide her excitement.

“She’ll be here soon. She must be on the way,” Sanvi replied with a soft smile.

And then—

The doorbell rang.

Anvi sprang to her feet and ran to the door without a second thought. She opened it carefully and her face lit up instantly.

“Naintara diii!”

She rushed forward and hugged her tightly, almost crashing into her.

“Do you even know how much I missed you? Now that you’re back, I won’t let you go anywhere!”

Naintara’s tired heart softened. She wrapped her arms around Anvi and closed her eyes for a moment.

“I missed you too, Avnii… so much.”

They pulled apart, smiling through emotion.

“Oh hello? I’m standing right here. Forgotten already?” a familiar teasing voice spoke.

Nishi stepped forward from behind Naintara, holding the trolley bags.

Anvi gasped dramatically. “Nishi di! As if anyone could forget you!”

She ran to hug her too.

Naintara watched them, a gentle smile resting on her lips.

“At least let them come inside,” Sanvi called out warmly. “Or are all conversations happening at the door?”

They laughed softly and stepped forward.

Naintara was about to enter when—

“Wait,” Sanvi said gently.

Naintara paused, confused.

Sanvi disappeared inside and returned with an aarti thali. The soft flame flickered as she performed Naintara’s aarti with moist, emotional eyes.

“Our home’s Lakshmi is returning after so many years, a proper welcome is a must.”

“Now come,” she whispered.

Naintara stepped in.

Nishi and Anvi followed.

The moment she crossed the threshold, time seemed to slow. Her eyes wandered across the walls, the staircase, the corners.

Memories breathed here.

Laughter once lived here.

A childhood once bloomed here.

These were moments she had tried to bury deep within herself. But destiny had quietly brought her back to the very place she never wished to return to.

Everything looked almost the same.

A few changes. New cushions. Different curtains.

But the soul of the house remained untouched.

“Tara,” Sanvi’s voice gently pulled her back, “go freshen up first. Eat something, then meet your Dadu. He’s in his room.”

Naintara nodded silently.

“I should leave now,” Nishi said softly. “Some work is pending at the bakery. I’ll come tomorrow.”

“You just arrived. Stay a little longer,” Sanvi insisted.

Naintara’s eyes echoed the same request.

But Nishi shook her head. “It’s important. I really have to go.”

They understood.

Before leaving, Nishi stepped closer to Naintara and lowered her voice. “ Take care of yourself and if you don’t feel okay here… come to my place."

A small, grateful smile curved on Naintara’s lips.

She nodded.

Some bonds don’t need promises.

They simply stay.

Nishi waved goodbye and walked away.

“Anvi,” Sanvi said gently, “take Tara to her room.”

“Yes, Maa,” Anvi replied obediently.

She stepped forward to lead the way, but before they could move, Naintara spoke softly.

“Bua… can I stay in a different room? I don’t want to stay in that one.”

Her voice was calm, but something fragile trembled beneath it.

Sanvi paused for a moment, studying her face. A thousand thoughts crossed her mind, but she simply nodded.

“It’s your home, Tara. Stay wherever you feel comfortable.”

“Then… I’ll stay in the guest room,” Naintara said quietly.

“The guest room?” Sanvi frowned slightly. “There are so many other rooms too, beta.”

Anvi stood silently between them, her little eyes moving from one face to the other. She didn’t speak, but she understood–something was heavy in the air.

“You just said it’s my home,” Naintara replied softly. “So let me stay where I want.”

Sanvi looked at her for a long second.

Then she nodded again.

Some questions are better left unasked.

“Take your sister,” she said gently to Anvi, “to whichever room she chooses.”

Anvi nodded.

She picked up a bag and quietly walked beside Naintara as they headed upstairs. Naintara didn’t say another word. Lost in her thoughts…

She walked silently, carrying luggage in her hands– And memories in her heart.

It was almost evening.

A soft golden hush had begun to settle over the house.

Naintara was staying in the guest room.

She couldn’t bring herself to step into her old bedroom.

That room held memories she had locked away with trembling hands—

memories she never wanted walking back into her life.

The guest room was different.

Quiet. Still. Safe.

She had gone to freshen up.

A little while later, the bathroom door opened and she stepped out, dressed in a soft pink outfit that looked as gentle as the evening sky.

She walked to the mirror.

Stopped.

Stared at herself.

Her reflection looked calm.

But her eyes told another story.

“Who would’ve thought…” she whispered faintly,

“the place I avoided coming to every time… is the place I’m forced to stay now.”

She picked up a bottle of body lotion and sat on the edge of the bed, applying it slowly.

Absent-mindedly.

Her body was here.

But her heart… was wandering Somewhere far away.

Her gaze drifted to the small idol of Krishna placed on the bedside table—the one she had carried with her.

“Krishna ji…” her voice cracked,

“Why did you bring me back here? I can’t live in this house. Every corner reminds me of someone I don’t even want to remember.”

She swallowed hard.

“I’ll stay just tonight. That’s it. I can’t do more than this. I’ll move somewhere else… to Nishi’s place… anywhere. But not here.”

She stood up abruptly, wiped her face, and walked out of the room.

Her grandfather’s room was downstairs.

Each step felt heavier than the last.

She stopped outside his door.

Closed her eyes.

Took a deep breath.

“Calm down… you can do this, Naintara.”

She pushed the door gently.

The room was dimly lit.

A warm yellow lamp glowed in one corner.

An old radio was playing softly.

A familiar ghazal floated through the silence— sung by Ghulam Ali.

The melody wrapped the room in nostalgia. As if the walls themselves remembered love and loss.

“Dadu,” Naintara called softly.

He was half-lying against the headboard, something resting in his hands.

“Dadu?”

He looked up.

And his face bloomed into a smile

the kind that appears when something priceless returns home.

“You finally came my child,” he said, voice trembling with joy.

His eyes shimmered.

Naintara walked to him and sat beside him on the bed.

“How is my Tara?” he asked gently, placing his palm on her cheek.

“You’re alright, aren’t you?”

Her throat tightened.

She wanted to collapse into his arms and cry to tell him how broken she truly was.

But she forced a small smile.

“Me? I’m perfectly fine, Dadu.”

It was a lie.

A fragile one.

She felt shattered like glass inside and only she knew how she had survived these years.

She quickly wiped the tears slipping from his eyes. “What are these tears doing here? I’m back now. No more crying.”

“They’re tears of happiness,” he said softly. “Now that I’ve seen you… even if I die, I’ll go peacefully.”

“Dadu!” she protested, hugging him tightly. “Don’t talk like that. You still have so much life left.”

He smiled faintly.

“Death doesn’t ask, beta. Today I’m here, tomorrow maybe not. Your Dadi already left me alone” He looked down at the old photo album in his hands.

Naintara frowned.

“I came after so long and you’re talking about this? If you keep saying such things, I won’t talk to you and I’ll leave again.”

He chuckled warmly.

For Naintara, her grandfather was her safest place. Her only constant. Losing him wasn’t something she could even imagine.

Seven years had passed since her grandmother left the world. Around the same time, Naintara had left home too—carrying silence and unspoken pain with her.

“Come on,” she said gently.

“Let’s eat something. I’m hungry… and you have to take your medicine.”

She wasn’t really hungry.

But when it came to him, she never took chances.

“Alright, alright,” he smiled.

“Let’s go"

✦ ── ✧ ── ✦

Night had settled over the house. Everyone had retreated to their rooms.

One of the guest rooms still had its lights on.

The one where Naintara was staying.

She sat at the study table, the pale glow of her phone reflecting against her quiet, unreadable face as she transferred money to someone.

“Aaj toh neend nahi aayegi…” she murmured under her breath.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”

Taking a slow breath, she stood up and walked toward the bed. She was just about to sit when—

Knock. Knock.

She froze.

It was late.

The entire house had gone silent.

Who could it be at this hour?

Slowly, she walked to the door, each step careful, almost hesitant. Her fingers wrapped around the latch.

She opened it.

Sanvi stood outside, a water jug resting in her hand.

“Bua, you? At this time?” Naintara asked softly.

“That’s what I should be asking,” Sanvi replied gently. “Why are you still awake? I was going to my room when I saw your lights on.”

Naintara didn’t answer.

Sanvi stepped inside.

“And one more thing” She lifted her phone and turned the screen toward her.

It showed the money Naintara had transferred just minutes ago.

“What is this?” she asked. “Why did you send this money?”

“For the tickets and other bookings you made,” Naintara replied calmly.

Her face held no expression.

No warmth. No irritation.

Just distance.

“How many times have I told you not to do this?” Sanvi said softly. “I know you like managing everything on your own but why this?”

This wasn’t new.

Every time there were festivals or family occasions and Sanvi sent her money, Naintara always returned it, insisting she didn’t need it.

“I have my own money,” Naintara said. “You know I work part-time along with my studies. And anyway, Dadu is already taking care of my entire education. At least I can manage the rest on my own.”

She had been living in Agra, balancing college with work.

She never wanted to take money from her family.

But her grandfather had already paid her full college fees, something she couldn’t refuse.

“But Tara–”

“I’m very sleepy,” Naintara said quietly, cutting her off.

Without waiting for a reply, she walked to the bed, turned off the lights, and lay down.

Sanvi stood there for a moment.

Silent.

Then she turned, walked out of the room, and closed the door softly behind her.

Under the blanket,

Naintara’s eyes remained open, staring into the darkness.

“I’ll leave this place tomorrow… I can’t stay here any longer. The moment morning comes, I’ll go to Nishi’s house,” she whispered, her voice barely audible even to herself.

A quiet resolve settled within her.

Slowly, she closed her eyes, as if trying to shut out the thoughts that refused to rest

And little by little,

sleep found her too.