She smiled softly and said, "Hi… myself Payel."
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
My mind went blank. The confident Sarthak — debate champion, school hero, everyone's "bhaiya" — suddenly didn't know what to say. My heart was pounding so loudly I was afraid she could hear it.
After gathering whatever courage I had left, I replied, trying to sound calm,
"Hi… I'm Sarthak. And I really liked your writing skills."
My voice sounded confident.
But inside? My heart was trembling like it had just run a marathon.
She smiled again — not politely, but genuinely. For a second, I didn't see the crowd around us. I didn't hear the noise inside the car. I just saw her.
And today, as I sit here remembering that moment, I realize something — that was the first time my heart chose someone without asking my permission.
Back then, I didn't understand what was happening to me. I just knew that when she smiled, something inside me softened. Something that had always been loud suddenly became quiet.
I didn't call it love at that time.
I didn't even have the courage to name it.
But now, after seven years, I know —
That was the moment my forever quietly began.
She tilted her head slightly. "I've heard about you too. Debate champion, right?"
I laughed lightly. "Something like that."
The driver bhaiya started the car, and music filled the silence. Laughter echoed around us. Then Arijit Singh's "Zaalima" began playing.
Everyone started humming.
I don't know what came over me that day — maybe her presence, maybe destiny — but without thinking, I began singing.
"Aankhein marhaba, baatein marhaba…
Main sau martaba deewana hua…
Mera na raha, jab se dil mera
Tere husn ka nishana hua…"
The car slowly went quiet.
When I finished, there was sudden clapping.
And then I looked at her.
Payel was staring at me, her eyes shining softly.
"Wow, Sarthak," she said, almost whispering. "You have such a melodious voice. I didn't know you could sing."
"I don't usually," I replied.
"Well… you should," she said with a small smile. "That was beautiful."
That one word — beautiful — felt better than any prize I had ever won.
They insisted I sing another song, and just like that, the three-hour journey passed like a dream.
When we reached the venue, there were special arrangements for prize holders. We entered together. There were many empty seats.
But she chose the one beside mine.
That small decision meant more than she probably realized.
She turned toward me. "So… tell me about yourself."
And we started talking.
She asked about my childhood, my ambitions, my favorite subjects. I answered honestly. Then I asked about her.
"So you've always been in this school?" I asked.
She shook her head. "No… I'm originally from Kolkata. We shifted here last year."
"That's a big change," I said.
"It is," she smiled. "But I think I'm starting to like it here."
We talked about school, dreams, fears, random childhood memories.
Four hours passed.
Four whole hours.
But it felt like only minutes.
Then came the announcement — prize distribution was about to begin.
Her name was called first.
As she stood up, I noticed something wasn't right. Her steps were slightly unsteady.
She had been sitting near the window earlier, sunlight falling directly on her.
I followed her quietly.
Before she could reach the stage, she held her forehead — and suddenly, she fainted.
I caught her.
"Payel!" I called, panic tightening my chest.
We rushed her to the emergency room. Doctors checked her immediately.
"It's nothing serious," one of them said "just low haemoglobin she needs rest."
Only then did I realize how scared I had been
Her mother received her prize. Later, I received mine too — but honestly, the trophy felt meaningless compared to seeing her conscious again.
About twenty-five minutes later, she opened her eyes.
When she saw me standing there, she gave a weak smile. "You stayed?"
"Of course," I replied quietly.
"Thank you… for catching me."
"Anyone would have done that," I said.
She looked at me for a moment and said softly, "No. Not everyone."
That sentence stayed with me.
On the way back, she again sat beside me.
This time, the journey felt calmer.
At one point, while adjusting herself, her hand accidentally brushed against mine.
And then… she held it.
Her hands were unbelievably soft — like touching a flower.
She quickly pulled back. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to."
"It's okay," I said.
After a small pause, she looked at me nervously. "Can I… hold your hand? I still feel a little dizzy."
Inside, my heart exploded.
But I replied gently, "If it makes you feel better… then sure."
She intertwined her fingers with mine.
I looked outside the window to hide my smile.
Meanwhile, our science teacher began talking about the upcoming Science Fest. He asked me to participate and said he would assign a partner.
"I've decided your partner," he announced after a moment.
"Payel."
For a second, I thought I misheard.
I tried to stay composed. "Yes sir, that would be a good decision. Her communication skills are excellent. And her art and craft is far better than mine. I can't even draw a straight line."
She laughed softly. "We'll manage."
We were so busy discussing ideas that we didn't realize we had reached our city.
As we got down and started walking toward the school gate, something pulled me slightly backward.
Her dupatta had gotten stuck in my watch.
We both froze.
She looked down. I looked at her.
The wind moved gently between us.
Neither of us spoke.
But in that quiet moment, it felt like fate had tied something invisible between us.
Something simple.
Something fragile.
Something that felt like the beginning of forever.
To be continued.....