Dons of Punjab: Fluke of Reality✔️

Chapter 8

Prabhneet Kaur

Two weeks had passed since I arrived in England, and this week marked the beginning of my classes. Time seemed to be moving so fast, yet every day felt like an emotional rollercoaster. From the moment I stepped off the plane, I knew my life was going to change in ways I couldn't even imagine. The excitement of being in a new country, meeting new people, and exploring unfamiliar streets kept me occupied, but at the same time, there was a part of me that felt empty.

That emptiness came from the absence of my best friend, Aman. Two whole weeks had passed since we last spoke, and the silence between us was beginning to weigh heavily on me. Aman and I had been inseparable since childhood—we did everything together. From sneaking snacks during study sessions to laughing over the most ridiculous jokes, he was always there. It felt strange to go through my day without hearing his voice or sharing my experiences with him.

As I walked through the streets of England, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, I found myself thinking about him constantly. I missed our long conversations, the way he would tease me about my terrible taste in movies, and how he always knew what to say when I was upset. It hurt to know that ever since I moved, things had changed between us.

I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to hear his voice. I pulled out my phone, my fingers hovering over his contact for a few moments before I finally gathered the courage to call him. The phone rang, and my heart pounded as I waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" His voice came through the receiver, and I felt a mix of relief and sadness all at once.

"Aman!" I exclaimed, feeling a rush of happiness. "Finally, I get to hear your voice! Do you even know how much I—"

"Prabhneet," he interrupted, his voice distant.

I froze. He never called me by my full name. It was always just "Neetu" or something playful. Hearing him say my full name made my heart sink. It was as if he was putting up a wall between us.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice light. "How have you been?" I asked, hoping he would say something, anything, to make me feel like things hadn't changed.

"I'm fine," he replied, short and cold.

His indifference stung. I had expected warmth, maybe even excitement. But instead, it felt like I was talking to a stranger. Anger and frustration bubbled up inside me. How could he be so distant? Didn't he miss me too?

"Fine?! That's all you have to say after two weeks?" I snapped, my voice rising with emotion. "If you don't want to talk to me, then forget it! Goodbye! And don't you dare call me!"

I ended the call before he could respond, my hands shaking. Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Aman had always been my closest friend, my safe space, and now, he felt like someone I barely knew.

I knew things had started changing ever since he found out I was leaving for England, but I never thought it would come to this. It was like he had already started pushing me away before I even left. Did he think distance would erase the bond we had built for years? The thought of losing him, even in this way, was unbearable.

Despite everything, I still cared for him. I wanted to fix things, but I didn't know how.

Later that evening, as I walked home through the dimly lit streets, my phone rang again. I sighed, hoping it wasn't Aman calling back because I wasn't ready to face that conversation again. But when I looked at the screen, a smile instantly replaced my frustration.It was my brother.I quickly answered, "Hey, Lalli Paji!""Hey, princess! Why are you still out so late?" His voice was filled with concern, just like always."I had a late class, Paji. I'm on my way home now, don't worry," I reassured him, pulling my jacket tighter around me. He sighed. "You better be careful. You know I don't like you walking alone at night."I laughed. "I know, I know. You always say that. But I promise I'm fine."We talked for a while, reminiscing about old times—our childhood mischief, our silly fights, and how he used to carry me on his shoulders whenever I got tired at family events. Talking to him made me feel at home, even though I was miles away. "How's everyone back home?" I asked."Missing you, obviously," he said. "Mom keeps making your favorite dishes and then realizes you're not here to eat them. Dad keeps checking his phone, expecting a message from you. And don't even get me started on the cousins. They won't stop asking when you're coming back."I smiled, feeling warmth spread through me. "I miss you all so much.""We miss you too, Neetu," he said softly. "But we're so proud of you. Just remember, no matter where you are, you'll always have us."My throat tightened with emotion. "I know, Paji. Thank you.""Alright, I have to go. Call me when you get home, okay?""I will. Love you, Paji.""Love you too, princess."As the call ended, I found myself blinking back tears. I missed my family more than I could put into words. My brothers had always been my protectors, my biggest supporters, and my best friends. Deep and Sunny Paji had been my childhood partners-in-crime. We spent endless summers playing games, running through fields, and pulling harmless pranks on each other. Jashan Didi was my dancing partner, always blasting music in her room and dragging me into impromptu dance-offs. Lalli Paji had the softest heart. He told me bedtime stories, wiped away my tears when I cried, and always made sure I felt safe. Roop Didi carried me around like I was her own little doll, always spoiling me with love. And Gunu Didi—oh, we had our fair share of fights, but at the end of the day, she was always there for me.Each one of them had played a role in shaping who I was. Being away from them was hard, but I knew I was never truly alone. As I finally reached my apartment, I let out a deep breath. Today had been an emotional whirlwind, but if there was one thing I was certain about, it was this: no matter where life took me, my family would always be my anchor. And as for Aman... I just had to hope that somehow, we'd find our way back to each other.

The next morning, I woke up determined to distract myself from the weight of emotions lingering from last night. I decided to explore a part of London I hadn't seen yet. Grabbing my coat, I stepped outside and let the crisp morning air refresh my mind. As I strolled down the streets, the blend of old and new architecture fascinated me.

I stopped by a cozy café, ordering a chai latte, and took a seat by the window. Watching people rush by, I let myself breathe. Maybe a new routine, new adventures, and new friendships would help me move forward. Just as I took a sip of my drink, my phone vibrated with a message.

From Aman.

My heart skipped a beat as I hesitated before opening it. "I'm sorry about last night. Can we talk?"

I stared at the message, unsure of what to do. A part of me wanted to ignore it, to let him feel the same distance I had felt. But another part of me, the part that still cared deeply, wanted to understand what had changed between us.

With a deep breath, I typed back, "Call me."

But he never did...

~~~

As the days passed, I found myself settling into a routine. Mornings were spent rushing to lectures, afternoons were for studying at the library, and evenings were reserved for long walks through the city, trying to familiarize myself with my new surroundings. London was beautiful, no doubt, but it felt... different. No matter how much I tried to lose myself in the excitement of a new place, there was a lingering weight in my chest—Aman's coldness still haunted me.

I wanted to move past it, to pretend like his words hadn't cut deep, but every time I picked up my phone, my fingers hovered over his name. I told myself I wouldn't be the first to reach out, not after the way our last conversation ended. But part of me still wished he would call.

One evening, as I walked back from campus, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud laughter coming from a café nearby. The warmth of the golden lights spilling out onto the pavement, the faint aroma of coffee, and the sight of people engaged in animated conversations suddenly made me realize how lonely I felt.

Maybe it was time to make new friends.

With a deep breath, I stepped inside. The café was buzzing with energy—students hunched over their laptops, couples sharing quiet conversations, and groups of friends laughing over drinks. I scanned the room, unsure of where to sit, when a voice called out.

"Hey! You're in my psychology class, aren't you?"

I turned to see a girl with wavy brown hair and a friendly smile waving at me. She was sitting at a table with two others, all of them looking at me expectantly.

"Yeah, I think so," I said hesitantly, stepping closer.

She grinned. "I knew it! I'm Zara, and these are my friends, Noor and Ethan. Wanna join us?"

A part of me hesitated, but the other part—the one that was tired of feeling like an outsider—told me to take the chance.

"Sure," I said, pulling out a chair.

And just like that, for the first time in weeks, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I was starting to belong.