Chapter 10
(Mischief, Mist, and a Touch of Invisible Affection)
The college felt a bit chilly today. It was early December; even though the sun had risen, a layer of mist still lingered in the air. Students walked across the dew-covered grass, gathering around the tea stall with cups of tea and coffee in hand, sharing light jokes, gossip, and occasional discussions about the upcoming play rehearsals.
As Ayush entered through the gate, a few boys rushed up to him and said, "Hey Ayush, the play has been finalized! We have to rehearse the full script today. Make sure you bring it!"
He nodded with a slight smile. Though his hand touched the script inside his bag, his mind was elsewhere. Suddenly, his eyes drifted to the corner on the left—there stood Aishi near the tea stall. Looking in the opposite direction, her bag slung over her shoulder, wrapped in the mist like a silent poem.
Ayush slowly walked towards the stall and stood beside her. Aishi remained quiet. She didn't look directly at him, yet her gaze didn't completely leave him either. Between them swirled a strange tension—no words spoken, yet the silence screamed louder than anything.
The tea seller asked, "Sir, what will you have?"
Ayush replied, "Whatever she's having, give me the same."
Aishi glanced at him and said, "I drink without sugar."
Ayush smiled softly. "I'll have it without sugar too. These days, sweetness doesn't stay on the tongue—it settles in the eyes."
Aishi looked away. After a moment, she smiled faintly and said, "You've become quite dramatic these days."
Ayush replied, "You made me a part of this drama. Was there ever anything real?"
Aishi didn't respond. She simply took a sip of her tea.
Just then, a group of girls passed by. One of them laughed and said, "Looking at these two now feels like a new serial has started!"
Aishi suddenly said, "Not a serial. But if life turns into a play, no one knows its ending."
And with that, she slowly walked away.
Ayush followed at a slight distance. He felt that this walk, this silence, the unsaid words frozen like cold tea at the stall—one day, all of this would be remembered deeply.
When they reached the rehearsal room, everyone had already gathered. Today was important—a new dialogue had been added to the script.
In this scene, the two characters stand face to face, acknowledging their feelings, yet the conflict within them remains unresolved. As if they have the words, but not the courage to say them.
Ayush: "I know you won't say it. You'll turn your face away, and I'll keep looking at you in silence. But I'm human… at least once, I want to hear it—do you feel anything?"
Aishi (after a pause): "I understand everything, Ayush. I do—but I don't say it. Because I know saying it doesn't always mean a beginning… sometimes, it means the end. I don't want these unspoken words to end."
As this dialogue unfolded, the emotions on stage no longer felt like mere acting. Even those watching the rehearsal fell silent. Some held their breath, afraid something might break within those fragile words. Tears shimmered in Ayush's eyes, Aishi's lips trembled. But they both knew—it wasn't just dialogue. It was everything they had felt in those lonely nights, all the words that could have been spoken, if only they had the courage.
After rehearsal, everyone started heading home. Aishi was leaving a bit late. Ayush was sitting on his bike. He glanced at her and then asked, "Will you give me a little time?"
Aishi walked closer and said, "Time is teaching us many things… but not giving us the courage to speak. What do you want to say?"
Ayush stayed silent for a moment, then said, "Do you know, I lose every day when I stand in front of you? Because you never look at me and say that you feel the pain too."
Aishi walked slowly ahead and replied, "Losing proves that you're still fighting. I've already lost before the fight even began."
Night slowly descended. Under the city lights, two shadows remained—one standing beside a bike, the other walking away. But between them lingered an invisible love, still unnamed.
That night, Ayush couldn't sleep. Sitting on the balcony with his phone in hand, he kept playing songs on YouTube, one after another—but none seemed to match his heart.
Aishi too sat by her window, wrapped in a blanket, her head resting gently. She kept rereading the script, whispering Ayush's lines to herself. Sometimes she sat still, sometimes she stood before the mirror, looking into her own eyes, asking, "Do I feel nothing?"
But no answer came. The night remained wrapped in mist, and within it were lost all the unspoken words…
To be continued…