Rhythms of the Heart ✅

31

A week had crawled by since Malang's abrupt disappearance. The once vibrant college halls now felt muted to Neel. His friends, Figo, Sam, Su, and Ishaan, had rallied around him, showering him with well-meaning jokes, movie nights, and endless cups of coffee. Neel appreciated their efforts. He put on a convincing show of forced smiles and easy laughter, a performance he knew wouldn't fool Ishaan for a second.

Ishaan, his closest confidante, saw right through the charade. He knew the depths of Neel's affection for Malang, the unspoken dreams that had shattered with his sudden departure. During a particularly boisterous game night, where Su was butchering the lyrics to a karaoke song and Figo was losing hilariously at charades, Ishaan found himself beside Neel on the balcony.

The cool night air carried the faint scent of jasmine from the nearby gardens. Ishaan leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the twinkling city lights. "You know you don't have to keep this up, right?" he said softly, his voice barely a whisper above the distant music.

Neel flinched, the mask of forced cheerfulness slipping slightly. He stared at his hands clasped tightly in his lap. "What do you mean?"

Ishaan sighed. "This whole 'I'm fine' act," he gestured vaguely. "We all know you're hurting, Neel. It's okay not to be okay."

Neel felt a pang of guilt. He hated burdening his friends with his misery, but Ishaan's words held a quiet understanding that resonated deep within him. "It's just... I don't even understand what happened," he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "One minute, everything seemed to be falling into place, and the next, he's gone."

Ishaan placed a hand on Neel's shoulder, a gesture of silent solidarity. "We'll figure it out, Neel. But you can't bottle it all up. Talk to us, let us share the weight."

Neel took a deep breath, the dam threatening to break. He looked at Ishaan, his eyes filled with a vulnerability he rarely showed. Maybe, just maybe, letting his friends in, sharing his grief and confusion, was the first step towards healing.
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Sanjana pushed open the door to Malang's room, a playful smile on her face. She found him sprawled on his plush armchair, nose buried deep in a book. This was a surprising sight – Malang, the self-proclaimed champion of video games and all things electronic, actually reading!

"Malang, my goodness," Sanjana chuckled, teasingly. "What happened to 'books are for old people'?"

Malang's face flushed crimson. He flinched, momentarily forgetting himself and the newfound joy of reading he'd discovered at Neel's apartment. "Bhabhi!" he exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment in his voice.

Sanjana moved closer, settling onto the edge of the armchair. "So, tell me everything about this music college," she said, her voice filled with genuine interest. "Was it everything you dreamed of?"

Malang's eyes lit up. The disappointment and frustration that had driven him to leave home seemed to melt away as he launched into an enthusiastic description of his college life. He described the vibrant dance studios, the electrifying atmosphere, and the dedicated teachers who pushed him to excel.

"And the best part?" he continued, a grin spreading across his face. "I made some amazing friends! There's Netra, she's like a sister – no, more like a mom sometimes," he chuckled, "always nagging me to eat my vegetables and practice my steps."

Sanjana smiled, picturing Malang's flustered reaction to someone taking care of him. "Sounds lovely," she said. "Anyone else you'd like to tell me about?"

Suddenly, a mischievous gleam appeared in Sanjana's eyes. "Hm hm," she hummed, leaning closer. "Did anyone make your heart flutter?"

Malang's cheeks turned the color of a ripe tomato. He stammered, trying to avoid her gaze. "Bhabhi! There's nothing like that."

But despite his protests, his voice lacked conviction. Sanjana wouldn't be fooled. She decided to press on, enjoying the rare opportunity to see Malang flustered.

"Oh, come on," she teased. "Tell me about these friends. "

Malang, unable to resist sharing his experiences, launched into a detailed account of his friends. He described Figo, the class clown who always kept them all laughing with his silly jokes; Sam, the quiet but insightful one who offered a shoulder to cry on; Su, the artistic soul who could capture emotions in her paintings; and Ishaan, the dependable best friend who always had Malang's back.

Then, almost as an afterthought, he mentioned Neel. As he spoke, Sanjana couldn't help but notice the way his voice softened, how his eyes sparkled with a hint of something deeper. He described Neel's kindness, his ability to make him laugh, the way he'd patiently helped him with his dance routines. He even shyly admitted how Neel had once pulled him into a hug when a sudden thunderstorm had startled him during a late-night.

Sanjana listened intently, her heart swelling with happiness for Malang. It was clear that these friends, especially Neel, held a special place in his heart. "See," Sanjana said, nudging him playfully. "It's not 'nothing' like that, is it? You clearly care for him a lot."

Malang buried his face back into his book, his cheeks burning. "It's... it's not like that, Bhabhi," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pages.

But Sanjana knew better. Her teasing had served its purpose. She saw the spark in Malang's eyes, the way he spoke about Neel with such warmth. There was definitely something more going on, and she couldn't wait to hear more about it later.

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