His Peace ; Her Sunshine ; Their Love.

Rumination

Ｓｈｒｅｙａｓ

When the senior residents announced the names of the new interns, I was filled with awe as it differed from what I had been told. That day, everyone referred to her as Rooh, but now it's Kavya. I was taken aback by the change. Perhaps this discrepancy was the reason behind my previous unsuccessful attempts to find her. My gaze was fixated on her, trying to pierce through the crowd. I couldn't help but feel like a creep, as if I were staring too intensely. However, her eyes met mine, offering a silent acknowledgment that she remembered me too.

Her gaze, while it may have been wary, also held a hint of recognition. It was then that I noticed a scar on her left forearm near her wrist, a remnant of the wound she had received that day. It was a visible reminder of the past, serving as a testament to the experiences we had shared.

Days passed with her presence in our department, and while she interacted with everyone else with a smile, I noticed a stark difference in her demeanor towards me. Rarely did she direct her gaze towards me, let alone engage in conversation. Our interactions were limited to work-related matters, during which she never once made eye contact.

I couldn't shake the feeling that she harbored no interest in revisiting anything from the past. Each encounter left me feeling perplexed by her actions and increasingly distant from her.

Two months flew by in the blink of an eye; now, she would soon be taking leave from our department as her PG exam approached. I had no choice but to hope for the best.

On her final day, the working hours had already been exceeded, and I found myself alone in the department room when I heard someone enter. It was her. She walked in and began searching for something, a scene that left me intrigued.

"Do you need help with anything?" I asked.

"Yes, my watch. I'm pretty sure I left it here," she responded, her eyes meeting mine.

I rose from my chair and scanned the room as she checked the cabinets. Approaching the window, I noticed a silver-colored watch lying behind the curtains. Retrieving it, I called out her name.

"Kavya," I said.

She looked at me with a tense expression. I showed her the watch, and relief washed over her face. Extending my hand to give it to her, our fingers briefly touched as she accepted it from me.

"Thank you," she said, smiling at me.

"It's alright," I replied instinctively.

"Can you please refrain from downplaying your actions by dismissing someone's courtesy?" she asked, catching me off guard.

I looked at her, confused.

"You always say 'it's alright' when you've actually helped someone, like with this watch," she continued, gesturing toward it, "or like you did with my wound that day."

I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by her words.

"Good luck for your exam," I said, offering a slight smile.

"Thank you, senior, for your wishes," she replied gratefully.

"You're welcome," I responded, raising my eyebrows and smiling.

She grinned in response to my actions.

"You finally learned that," she teased.

Our conversation was interrupted by her friend, Manya.

"Bye," she said as she left.

I nodded in acknowledgment. Despite our brief interaction, my feelings couldn't help but resurface.

It was her last day, and perhaps it was also the last time I would see her. If fate allowed, we might cross paths again, or perhaps not. I regretted letting those negative thoughts consume me. If only I had shown a little more courage, we might have had this conversation sooner. I felt a deep sense of disappointment in myself this time, realizing I had let the chance slip away.

Ｋａｖｙａ

I completed my internship at that time, with only the PG exam remaining. Within a few days, I successfully completed it as well, and it went smoothly. My aspirations leaned towards continuing my education at the same esteemed university where I completed my MBBS. As the counseling process progressed, my hopes blossomed into tangible reality. Furthermore, I was fortunate enough to secure admission into my desired specialty, obstetrics and gynecology. The sheer magnitude of my joy surpassed even my wildest expectations.

No matter how diligently I endeavor to banish his memory from my thoughts, my stubborn mind incessantly conjures him up. If it hadn't been for Manya's intervention that day, perhaps we would have engaged in a more prolonged conversation for the first time. If only I could overcome my hesitations, we might have already forged a friendship by now. Speaking of Manya, she too secured admission to the same university, opting for surgery as her specialization. I was resolute in persuading her to do so, as both of us lacked trustworthy peers in our profession, thus relying on each other for support.

Now that I will be in the same vicinity as him, and with frequent postings in the OPD, our encounters are bound to increase. Perhaps this will provide an opportunity for interaction, allowing me to take the initiative. Indeed, I am inclined to take the first step. However, a part of me trembles at the prospect of discovering that he may mirror the individuals I've encountered before. What if he too possesses a propensity for anger, swiftly jumps to conclusions, and hastily judges situations?

The individuals surrounding me have subjected me to such distress that it becomes exceedingly difficult to place trust in anyone. Despite my twenty-four years of age, only two souls exist whom I can confide in completely. Unfortunately, even my own parents have contributed to this turmoil. Whenever I expressed anxiety, they dismissed it as overreaction. Similarly, if I dared to voice any inconvenience to my father, he would merely brush it aside. His reaction to anything disagreeable was often harsh, marked by yelling, followed by insincere apologies to evade accountability. My brother mirrored my father's behavior, oscillating between rudeness and displays of affection. This inconsistency poisoned our relationship, leaving me emotionally hypersensitive. Even minor inconveniences could reduce me to tears; for instance, the breaking of a glass would elicit an outpouring of emotion. It may sound irrational, but such experiences were all too common for me.

My grandfather was the sole individual who genuinely cared for me, never failing to demonstrate his affection. However, life's injustices became glaringly apparent when he suffered a debilitating paralysis attack last year, leaving him scarcely able to move. During that tumultuous period, his survival seemed uncertain, yet he persevered, exhibiting remarkable progress since then. Although he can now utter a few words and move his hands, his condition remains largely unpredictable. He is currently receiving treatment from the foremost neuro specialist in Delhi, and I fervently wish for his swift recovery.

When my parents forbade me from pursuing dance, citing interference with my studies, my grandfather emerged as my unwavering source of encouragement. Dance was not only my passion but also a source of joy, and my grandfather understood this better than anyone. Despite bearing a resemblance to my grandfather in appearance, my father failed to emulate his character or actions.

Nevertheless, this was the life I had long accepted. Despite all my experiences, I dared to hope that perhaps there might be a loving soul out there who would accept me just as I am. Maybe I was seeking that refuge in Shreyas. Based solely on how he treated me that night, the following day, and on my last day of internship, I sensed that he was not one to engage in idle chatter; rather, he possessed a reserved demeanor. I had never observed him displaying keen interest in any conversation. It may sound harsh, but that's precisely the kind of person I find myself drawn to. I simply cannot tolerate individuals who are overly invested in someone else's affairs. It's no wonder I'm weird.