700 ᏦᎥᏝᎧᎷᏋᏖᏒᏋᏕ ᏗᏇᏗᎩ

Chapter 2: The Heart Revealed

The morning after graduation, everything felt strangely still. The once-bustling corridors of the school were empty now, filled only with echoes of laughter, chatter, and footfalls from the day before. Harshan stood at the school gate for a long while, staring at the worn-out emblem on the wall—his sanctuary for years, and the place that had witnessed every step of his secret love for Ishwaani.

It was over now. The chapter had closed.

But Harsha didn’t know that life had one more twist in store for him before the dust could settle.

---

A few days later, the news broke.

“Ishwaani’s been shifted out of the city,” his mother said quietly from the doorway. “They don’t want her anywhere near here anymore.”

That was the final blow.

She was gone. Again. But this time not just because of circumstances—because of him.

---

In the following weeks, Harsha’s world collapsed.

Students who once waved to him now crossed the road to avoid him. Whispering followed him whenever he went out. Even some of his so-called friends began ignoring his messages.

Everyone turned their backs—everyone except Dharan.

Dharan stood by him like a shield. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he kept saying. “Loving someone isn’t a crime.”

But Harsha couldn’t believe that. Not anymore.

His parents fought almost every night now.  His mother blamed his father for being too harsh. His father blamed her for being too soft. In the middle of it all, Harsha sat in silence, watching the house that once offered warmth crumble under pressure.

One evening, when the screaming got too loud, Harsha walked out of the house and sat on the front steps, the night air heavy around him.

Dharan joined him minutes later, as if he knew.

“They’ll get over it,” Dharan said.

“No, they won’t,” Harsha replied, his voice hollow. “I broke everything.”

“You didn’t break anything. They were already broken, Harsha. This just… shook the walls a bit.”

Harsha didn’t reply. He just stared at the empty road ahead, trying to imagine a future that didn’t look this dark.

---

Time passed.

The school year ended. Results came. College counselling began.

Amidst the chaos, a glimmer of light appeared. Harshan got a college seat—a good one. It wasn’t just out of town, but 700 kilometers away from his city. Away from the memories. Away from the stares. Away from everything.

Everyone called it an opportunity. A fresh start.

But for Harsha, it was exile.

“I’ll visit,” Dharan promised. “Whenever I can.”

Harsha nodded, but he knew the road ahead would be one he had to walk alone.

The day he left, he packed quietly. One small suitcase. A few clothes. Books. His phone. And one small ring. A plain silver ring.

And now, it was all he had left.

---

He arrived at the campus on a rainy afternoon. The sky was grey, and the buildings looked cold. Students rushed around, soaked and shouting. Everything moved fast. Too fast. Harshan felt like a dot in a massive, moving storm.

For the first few days, things were smooth. His roommates were friendly. Classmates helped him find lecture halls. The campus mess food wasn’t great, but it was bearable. He kept his head down, hoping for peace.

But slowly, something began to shift.

People started ignoring him. Conversations ended when he walked into the room. Group chats slowly excluded him. Invitations to hangouts stopped. Whispers began—he could feel them, even if he couldn’t hear the words.

He didn’t understand why.

He had done nothing wrong here. No one even knew him.

Or so he thought.

And this time, there was no Dharan to defend him.

Assignments piled up. Observations, records, practical submissions—college was ruthless. No Sundays off. Classes till 5 p.m. even on weekends. The system was designed to grind you down. And for someone already carrying emotional baggage, it was brutal.

He tried. He really tried. But the loneliness clawed at him.

One night, after finishing an assignment at 2 a.m., Harsha sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t spoken to anyone all day—not a single soul. Not one friend. No messages. No smiles. No conversations.

And something inside him cracked.

He pulled out the ring from his bag and held it in his palm.

Then.

He broke.

His body shook as if the years of pain, rejection, and silence were finally pouring out in one tidal wave.

“Why?” he whispered , “Why do I have to bear all this? What did I do? Why does no one want to talk to me?”

His voice was raw. His fists clenched.

He wasn’t asking the world.

He was asking himself.

And he had no answer.

All he had was silence—and the weight of everything he never deserved.