ADHURI KAHANI: A tale of an amnesic bond

PROLOUGE

INAAYA'S POV

I settled into the weathered wooden bench in the quiet corner of the park. The distant murmur of people passing by blended with the rustling leaves and the occasional chirping of birds . A gentle breeze pleasantly caress my skin as it pass through me. It was cold but carried a mild warmth with it the subtle fragrance of blooming flowers. The atmosphere held gentleness today which is unlike summer season. 

Clouds stretched across the sky that gently diffused the sunlight casting a subdued glow upon the world below. Not a drop of rain threatened the air, but the promise of it lingered in the slightly damp breeze. It was a day that embraced moderation, neither too warm nor too cold. I inhaled a deep breath taking in the fragrance of the flowers of Narrowleaf Cottonwood tree that  stood proudly at a distance before me. Its branches adorned with a vibrant display of green leaves and delicate yellow flowers. The branches reached out like arms, creating a patchwork of light and shadow on the ground beneath. 

 I crossed my hands and placed them on either side of my forearm, gently caressing it, finding comfort and solace in this relatively silent corner of the park. With its sparse visitors, it felt like a haven. The tree, standing tall and wise, seemed to hold countless stories, a silent witness to the passage of time.

This place is deeply nostalgic for me, preserving old and cherished memories from my high school days with him. He introduced me to this spot, to this tree, explaining the significance of the Narrowleaf cottonwood it cradled.

"Who would have thought that was the last time I would see him," I recalled, gaze fixed on the tree. A tsunami of memories with him flooded my mind.

It has been seven long years, and there has been no news of him—no calls, no messages. It's as if he vanished from the face of the earth. I don't even know if he's alive or not. Why did he not think of calling me in these seven years? Did he not want an orphan to be his friend? Why didn't he tell me that he didn't like me to my face instead of ignoring me and disappearing like this? 

 "I miss him,"

I whispered, tears welling in my eyes, blurring the view before me. Attempting to halt the tears, I closed my eyes, but it was of no use. Biting my lower lip, I tried to suppress a sob but failed, the pain is too overwhelming. "It hurts,"  realizing that, once again, my attempt to visit this place without tears had ended in failure.

---

 I don't know how many hours have passed, sitting here and reminiscing old memories. I feel like a fool every time I come, despite swearing on everything when leaving that I wouldn't return. Yet, I end up coming here like a shameless person every time I feel overwhelmed, every time there is the slightest change in my life. With a hopeful heart, I anticipate that someday—maybe someday—he will be waiting for me here, eager to meet me. However, my brain fully disapproves of my heart. 

I look around; there are no people as far as I can see. The sun is setting, and although I can't really see the sun. Wisps of clouds, like cotton candy, stretch across the vast expanse, catching the warm embrace of the fading sunlight. The sky transforms into a palette of soft pastels — hints of peach, coral, and lavender blending seamlessly tells the tale.

I took my phone out of my pocket, clicking the power button to check the time. It read 5:46, the screen flashing. I put my phone back in my bag while walking towards the park's exit. This part of the park had fewer people compared to where I was sitting.

Exiting the park, I waited for a taxi to pass by, hoping it could potentially take me back home. Before me stood a tall building that might become my workplace, but only if I pass the interview. I genuinely hope to succeed; I don't want to rely on my sister's money any longer. I'm already indebted to them, and it's time for me to repay all they've done for me over the years..

---   

ISHAAN'S POV

"Streams of people weave through the terminals, each with a purpose — anticipation, excitement, or the bittersweet farewell of parting souls. The sound of rolling suitcases and hushed conversations in various languages fill the air. Passengers form lines in front of the check-in counters, engaged in the ritual of paperwork.

Amidst the chaos, my phone rang. Knowing who it potentially could be, I decided to take my phone out. Yes, my assumption was correct; it was my mother. I shook my head slightly while looking at the phone screen, silently appreciating her timing before picking up the call.         
 "Yes, Maa. I just landed in India."

AUTHOUR'S NOTE

Here is the prologue i hope you guys liked it. if you did make sure to vote , i will appreciate it. First chapter will released soon <3