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Third Person's POV
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Parth let out a long sigh, his mind immersed in the recollection of that old memory. He couldn't figure out what was true - the phone call or Abhi's words.
His gaze wandered, and there, on the chair, lay the white envelope haphazardly strewn. Picking it up, he stared at the fancy envelope - white with gold decorations that shone under his office lights, proudly bearing the emblem of his alma mater.
Modern Academy, Chandigarh.
His father's job mandated frequent transfers, compelling the family to uproot with each relocation. Consequently, Parth and his sister had attended an assortment of schools spanning across the country.
Yet, none had left as profound an impact on him as Modern Academy had.
It was the place where he had met her.
He carefully tore open the envelope and extracted the letter enclosed within.
Parth set the letter aside after reading it.
An invitation to a school reunion.
This marked the third year he had received this letter in the past five years.
The past two times, he had ignored the invitation as if it had vanished into thin air.
But, what about this time?
Fifteen years had elapsed since he last stepped onto the once-familiar grounds of his school, and so much had changed. - he himself, his equation with Sharvi, and perhaps, Sharvi herself.
A sigh slipped past his lips as he reclined in his sleek leather chair, his gaze fixed on the view beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking at the city he now called home.
His fingers absently toyed with the invitation, tracing its letters as if they held the solutions to all his questions.
Should he go?
It wasn't the idea of reconnecting with former classmates that caused him to hesitate.
Instead, it was a solitary thread of memory that continued to bind him.
Sharvi.
Parth didn't want to see Sharvi as another man's wife. Just the thought of it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He very fondly remembered how she used to be a passionate believer in the power of love and marriage, often discussing her hopes of finding true love.
She must have found one when she made the big decision to step onto the altar.
That year, he was genuinely happy for her.
However, every fiber of his being flinched at the prospect of coming across her, especially after all these years, as another man's wife.
The news of her marriage had extinguished all hopes in his heart.
The probability of their paths crossing at reunions was high, and that was precisely why he consciously kept his distance from them and everything else related to their school, or as Abhi said, treated them like a contagious plague.
But what about this time?
What if what Abhi said was true? What if she wasn't married?
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Parth's trance was interrupted as his assistant entered to inform him about a meeting.
The meeting was with a foreign client Parth's company had been in contact with for a long time.
Entering the elegantly furnished conference room with his assistant in tow, Parth spotted Mr. Smith and his assistant, Mila.
Parth and Mr. Smith exchanged warm smiles, a testament to the familiarity that had developed between them over the numerous meetings they had shared before.
"It's always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Smith." Parth greeted, extending his hand for a handshake.
Mr. Smith responded with a nod and a genuine grin, replying, "Likewise, Mr. Sharawat. Your hospitality is as remarkable as ever."
The meeting progressed swiftly.
After the meeting, as everyone stood up, Mila handed her boss an invitation. Passing the invite to Parth, Mr. Smith said, "Mr. Sharawat, Mila and I look forward to your presence at our wedding."
Seeing the surprise on Parth's face, Mr.
Smith held Mila's waist, smiled, and said, "Well, long story short: we fell in love in high school but got separated. Years later, we reconnected when she came to my company seeking a job, and the rest, as they say, is history."
"Great! You guys have a nice story," Parth gave a small smile, then extended his hand for a handshake. "Congratulations! I wish you both a prosperous marriage."
Mr. Smith smiled, "Thank you, Mr. Sharawat! But, this won't do. You need to come to our wedding."
"Sure, I will try," Parth replied.
They bid their farewells.
Parth couldn't help but feel jealous of Mr. Smith.
Why doesn't he have such luck?
People are marrying their first loves, yet he can't even gather the courage to confront his.
His conscience mocked him.
Wasn't it just because of this fear of his that he left the city without bidding her farewell or expressing his true feelings ten years ago?
His this fear has already deprived him of numerous opportunities; making him close all doors that might lead him back to Sharvi, be it ten years ago, five years ago, or now.
Should he try opening that door, for once, this time? Should he attempt this once?
As Parth entered his cabin, his gaze wandered to the reunion invitation once again.
He realized the invitation wasn't just about reconnecting with his past. It was about crossing paths with a chapter of his life that had remained suspended in time. A chance to fill in the gaps that a decade had carved out.
His decision solidified, and he reached for his phone.
It was time to mark his presence at a reunion that seemed to promise more than just memories.
With a few taps, he composed a message to Abhi, "I'll be there."
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Standing in front of the mirror, she meticulously arranged the pleats of her new saree, which she had bought specifically for her friend's engagement ceremony. However, at her friend's insistence, she ended up wearing it today for the school reunion.
Having perfected the saree, she leaned over to get her lipstick from the pouch on the table. As she did so, her gaze wandered to the business newspaper that lay there.
The newspaper displayed a large picture of a man on the front page. He was impeccably dressed in a sharp black suit jacket, crisp white shirt, black pants, and a vibrant blue tie, seated regally on a sofa.
It was him.
Parth Sharawat.
Her first love.
Her introduction to heartbreak.
A decade had passed since she last saw him, just before he stepped out to pursue the biggest decision of his life.
While a part of her remained upset with him for not meeting her before he left that day, denying her the chance to bid him a final goodbye and for cutting off all contact, she couldn't deny the deep longing within her.
She truly wished to meet him once, to come face-to-face with the person her heart had once cherished so profoundly.
She had seen his photographs and heard him give interviews to all the renowned magazines, newspapers, and news channels over the past five years. However, her heart longed to see him in person, to see his smile, to hear him speak, to hear him laugh, just like the old times.
She had attended the past two school reunions with the hope of meeting him, but to her disappointment, he never showed up.
"Will he come this time?", her mind mused.
She swiftly dismissed the thought, already knowing the answer to that question.
She has long abandoned all hopes of ever seeing him again, with his absence further reinforcing her belief.
Her phone rang, indicating an incoming call from her best friend from school, Maya, urging her to hurry up. She quickly finished her makeup and rushed to school.
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Modern Academy was abuzz with excitement for the third reunion of batch 2008-09.
The school had been transformed into a vibrant tapestry of colors, with artistic displays and intricate floral arrangements adorning every corner. The auditorium had become a festive space, complete with twinkling lights, elegant drapery, and a stage for live performances.
Alumni exchanged greetings, warm embraces, and laughter, evoking memories of times long gone.She entered the school and was enveloped in a warm hug by Maya, who was standing near the gate.
"Sharvi! I missed you so much!" Maya exclaimed in a hushed tone.
"I missed you too," Sharvi replied.
The best friends walked inside, their eyes scanning the faces of those they had once shared classrooms with.
They soon mingled in a group with a few others, engaged in conversation and laughter, when a group of girls from their batch approached.
One of the girls turned to Aatish, the head of the reunion organizing committee and once a close friend of Parth, asking, "Aatish, is Parth coming today?"
Aatish shook his head in response.
Another girl in the group fumed, "He's gotten so arrogant since he achieved success. Acts like he's above everyone. Such an attitude! Honestly, I didn't like him even back in school."
She was backed up by another girl. "Well, you're absolutely right! Aatish, he doesn't even care about you. You were such a great friend to him. And look at this, even though he knows you're the head organizer, he still doesn't bother."
Aatish, uncomfortable with his friend being scolded, replied, "It's not like that. He's not at all how you guys are describing. I know him. He's genuinely busy."
The girl from earlier snickered, "Busy! That's just a lie. He just doesn't care."
"Why are you guys making a mountain out of a molehill?" Sharvi interjected, unable to stay silent any longer. "There are many others who haven't attended the past reunions and aren't here today either. Why don't you go question everybody? Everyone has their own choice whether they decide to come or not, and the same goes for Parth. If he doesn't want to come, nobody has the right to question him."
She took a deep breath and continued, "Moreover, if he says he's busy, there's a good chance he truly is, considering the heights he's achieved. The position he holds today is something people can only dream of. Instead of being happy and acknowledging the success of one of our own, you guys are just speaking nonsense. And talking about arrogance, aren't you displaying a bit of it yourselves by judging him without knowing the full story?"
She gently continued, "Also, this is a time to reconnect, celebrate our journeys, and cherish the bonds we once shared, not to dwell on assumptions and judgments."
She always held a certain protectiveness for Parth, which prevented her from allowing anybody to speak ill of him. However, in the silent corners of her mind, Sharvi couldn't help but ponder, "But, aren't they true? Old friendships and connections really don't matter to him."
Aatish smiled at Sharvi, silently thanking her. Then he jumped in, saying, "Of course! Come on, everyone, let's call the cameraman and get a picture clicked."
His enthusiastic invitation spurred everyone into action, as they gathered together, laughing and eagerly preparing for the memorable photograph.
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Elsewhere, at Chandigarh airport, a plane landed, and stepping out onto the once familiar yet now distant grounds, stood Parth.
Abhi and he rushed out of the airport.
"Come on, Parth, hurry!" Abhi repeated the same sentence for the tenth time."
Parth, growing irritated, asked, "Why are you in such a rush? Is there a fire somewhere?"
The friends, who had gotten ready on the plane itself, were running late because Parth had to attend an important morning meeting. The meeting had been scheduled months ago, and it was nearly impossible to cancel it at the last moment.
Parth had asked Abhi to inform the necessary people about his attendance. However, Abhi, concerned that Parth might change his plans at the last moment, hadn't informed anyone except Aatish. He had asked Aatish to keep the plan a secret until they arrived.
The pair reached the school and were welcomed by Aatish near the gate, as Abhi had already informed him.
The friends hugged, exchanging smiles.
"Parth! It's been a while!" Aatish exclaimed.
Parth smiled and replied, "Sorry about that!"
The three of them hurried inside. They reached near the auditorium when the sound of someone singing reached their ears.
The voice was soft and melodious, filling the air with its warmth. It was a female voice, singing the song "Lag Jaa Gale" with a soothing tone.
Parth recognized the voice instantly.
It was Sharvi.
His heart began to race, the sound echoing loudly in his chest.
A decade's worth of time had passed, and today, after all those years, they were standing so close, on the same familiar grounds.
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"𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐮𝐬."
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Another update!
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