Part 1: The Day Everything Changed
The wind had a strange softness that morning — the kind that feels like a quiet secret brushing against your skin. In the small hill town of Dharwada, where clouds lazily drift between pine trees and the school bell echoes across valleys, it was just another weekday. Or so it seemed.
Aarav was always early. Not because he was studious — but because he liked walking alone. From his house near the old post office, he would take the narrow forest trail to St. Mary's Hill School, tucked on a slope above the market. The trail smelled of pine bark, damp earth, and a hint of distant bonfire smoke. He liked that. It was the only part of the day that felt untouched, unbothered.
As he reached the school gate, the bell hadn’t rung yet. The sky was wrapped in morning mist, and only a few students were around. His shoes, a little dusty from the trail, tapped softly on the stone-paved corridor.
Then it happened.
She arrived.
Not with a storm. Not with the sound of violins in the air. Just… quietly. She walked in through the gate, hugging a green shawl around her arms, her hair tied loosely, eyes scanning everything like she was reading a new book.
Meher.
New admission. 11th grade. Same class. He didn’t know that yet — he only knew that something shifted in the air when she entered.
She didn’t smile at anyone. She didn’t need to. She carried with her something that made people turn — not because of how she looked, but because of the way she walked… like she had stories behind her.
Aarav saw her sit alone on the wooden bench outside the principal’s office, waiting. For what, he didn’t know.
The bell rang.
Everyone rushed in. But something in Aarav lingered — as if a part of him was still sitting on that bench beside her.
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Inside the Classroom
Class 11-A was full of echoes — chairs dragging, laughter bubbling, bags dropping on desks. It was just like any other morning until the class teacher walked in with her.
Meher. Again.
“This is Meher Sharma. She’s just joined us. Please make her feel welcome,” the teacher said, then scanned the room. “Aarav, she’ll sit next to you for now.”
He froze.
Of all the empty seats.
She walked slowly to the last bench, where Aarav usually sat alone. Not because he didn’t like people, but because silence helped him draw. He slid his sketchbook inside his bag and shifted slightly.
Meher sat. She didn’t speak. Neither did he. But in that quiet corner of the classroom, something unspoken began — the kind of thing that doesn’t need a name right away.
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Lunch Break
Most students ran to the canteen. Aarav stayed back, finishing the lines of a mountain he had begun sketching during math class.
“You draw?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.
He looked up. Her voice was softer than he imagined.
“Sometimes,” he replied, unsure what else to say.
“Can I see?”
He hesitated, then turned the book around.
She looked at the sketch — mountains fading into clouds, a single tree on the edge, and a tiny figure standing at the peak.
“It’s quiet,” she said.
He nodded. “I like quiet things.”
She smiled faintly. “Me too.”
And that was it.
No dramatic handshake. No exchange of phone numbers. Just two teenagers sitting on the last bench, watching mountains on paper.
---
Evening
After school, Aarav took the longer route home. He didn’t know why. Maybe he wanted to feel the wind again, the same one that brought Meher into his life.
She had changed something.
Not everything.
Just the part of his day that came before the bell rang.
---
To be continued…
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