Parallel Lines: a story of memory, silence, and first love

False Starts

Just behind him, two voices spoke—clear, close.

"No onions in mine, please," the girl said, handing her menu to the waiter.
"You and your onion fear," the boy replied, chuckling.

Arvind's hand froze for a moment around his cup.
That voice.

Not the words. Not the tone.
But the feeling.

Tiara sat across from Kabir, smiling as he gently teased her.
She glanced around, eyes scanning the room without intention.
They passed lazily over Kiara.
Over Arvind.

She didn't see his face.
Just the back of his head. Just a boy in a grey hoodie, staring out the window.

Something inside her flickered. Like déjà vu.
A tug without a name.

She blinked. Looked away.

A few minutes later, Kabir's phone buzzed.
He leaned in to show her a meme.
They laughed.

Behind them, Kiara said something that made Arvind laugh too—an honest laugh, brief and unfamiliar.

Tiara paused.

Then shook it off.

They left five minutes apart.
Tiara first, holding Kabir's hand.
Arvind after, walking beside Kiara.

Neither turned.
Neither looked back.

Two names.
Fate didn't strike.
Two shadows.
It waited.
One city holding its breath.
Closer than ever.

3.3 - "Margins"

"Some people enter your life without asking for space. And still end up leaving footprints."

Kiara's Room – Late Evening
The buzz of her desk lamp hummed softly in the corner. Kiara flipped through her law notes for the third time, her highlighter tapping lightly against the page.
But her mind had drifted far.

"That was the first time I saw him smile."

She didn't know what had made Arvind smile like that. It was small — barely there. The kind of smile you'd miss if you blinked.
But she didn't blink.

"I thought he couldn't smile at all," she thought, lips curving into a soft grin. "But that moment was enough. He's not a robot. He's human. Somewhere, deep down... he's still there."

A knock broke the silence.
Kiara opened the door to find her roommate, Anshikha, standing like a delivery goddess — holding two steaming cups of chai and a massive bowl of Maggi, the sauce packet still dangling from the rim.
Kiara chuckled. "What am I going to do with you, my love?"
"Shut up and eat before it gets cold."

They plopped onto the bed, legs tangled in blankets, steam rising in little ghost clouds.
They gossiped — about professors, boys, and the girl who nearly fainted during moot court practice.

Then Anshikha leaned back, sipping her chai. Her voice was casual, but curious.
"Kiara... what do you even see in that robot?"
Kiara raised an eyebrow. "Robot?"
"Yeah — Arvind. Cold. Quiet. Never laughs. He rejected you a couple of times, right? You're literally the cutest person alive. You could get any guy you want."

Kiara didn't answer immediately.

Earlier – Staircase Between Classes
They sat side by side, sunlight spilling across the stone steps.
Arvind was hunched over his sketchbook, drawing something shapeless. Soft. His pencil moved in steady strokes, lost in a rhythm only he understood.
Kiara had just... watched.
He didn't look up. Not once.

"He's like a radio stuck between two stations," she thought. "I can hear him. But not clearly."

Still — she stayed.
Because sometimes, you don't need to speak.
You just need to be there.

Back in Her Room
Kiara gave a small smile.
"He's cute, yaar," she said softly.
"That's it? Cute?" Anshikha teased, nudging her.
"It's not just that. There's something in him. Like a whole universe behind those eyes, and no one's seen it yet." She stirred her chai. "I don't know. He makes me want to wait."

Then, to avoid getting any mushier, she pivoted.
"Anyway, what's the story with Karun? Still stalking your Instagram likes?"
Anshikha groaned. "Don't even get me started."

Same Night – Arvind's Room
The sketchbook lay open on his desk, a pencil resting diagonally across the page. Shapes. Shading. Scribbles. Nothing finished — but somehow complete.
The fan overhead whirred gently. Sahil was out cold, blanket half off the bed, arm dangling like a lazy scarecrow.
Arvind sat alone in the lamplight.

His eyes shifted to a folded sticky note tucked beneath the sketchpad.

"Your sketches deserve better margins. – K"

Kiara had left it that afternoon without asking. No emoji. No smiley face. Just that.
He hadn't thrown it away.
He picked it up now, held it between his fingers.

It felt stupid. But it also felt... real.

He thought of her sitting beside him. Not speaking. Not asking him to be someone else. Just staying.
He placed the note back gently and stood, walking to the window.
The city lights blurred the sky. Somewhere down the street, someone was blasting music. Laughter echoed faintly from a balcony three floors below.
The smell of biryani wafted in through the screen.

He didn't smile.
But he didn't feel alone either. 

"So for the fifth time — her hands began to shake.
Not much. Just enough to drop the clicker.

She bent to pick it up — and suddenly, everything felt too loud.
The humming lights. The scraping chairs. Ankita's laughter. The clipboard digging into her ribs.

She stood too fast.
Her vision blurred.
Her heart thundered.
And just like that — she froze.

Everyone else kept moving.

Sahil noticed first.
"Tiara?" he said. "You okay?"
She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

Ankita stood too. "Tiara?"
"I can't..." Her voice broke. "I... I can't do this anymore."

Her clipboard dropped from her hand — pages fluttering like panicked birds.

The room stilled.
She slid to the floor. Not dramatically. No screaming. Just... quietly. Like her bones couldn't carry it anymore.

"I tried. I tried so hard," she whispered.
"I just wanted to get it right. I thought... if everything went perfect... maybe I'd stop feeling like this."

Ankita knelt beside her. Eyes wide.
Sahil put down the remote. Unsure what to do.
Dr. Rao crouched beside her.

"You don't have to be perfect," he said softly. "You just have to be okay."

A Few Minutes Later
They sat her on the edge of the stage. Someone handed her tea.
She didn't cry much. Just a few tears. Quiet. Running down her cheeks as she stared into nothing.

"I don't even know why I'm crying," she said.
"It's okay," Ankita replied. "Let your body cry. Even if your brain doesn't know why."

Sahil sat beside her. Said nothing. Just placed her clipboard next to her.
"I'm sorry," Tiara whispered.
Dr. Rao smiled gently.
"You don't have to apologize for being human."