Shuttles And Stars

Neeraj

The next morning, I woke up with a strange sense of anticipation. The day of the seminar was finally here, and as much as I tried to focus on what I’d say in my speech, my thoughts kept drifting back to Sia. Would she be there? Would we get a chance to talk? I shook my head, trying to snap myself out of it. Focus, Neeraj, I told myself. You’re here for the Indian Army, not to indulge in some fantasy.

But no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts circled back to her, like a magnet pulling me in. The curiosity about her life, her story, and the quiet strength she carried in her eyes—all of it consumed me. I needed to see her again, even if just to clear my head and get over this strange infatuation.

I spent the morning at the gym, trying to burn off some of the energy that had built up inside me. Afterward, I had a light breakfast with my family. They were excited for the seminar, asking me about what I’d say, and reminding me how proud they were. My sister teased me about becoming a motivational speaker now, which made me laugh, but deep down, I was grateful for the distraction. I needed to stop obsessing over Sia and focus on the reason I was there: to speak in front of the brave soldiers who represented the best of India.

As the afternoon approached, Abhimanyu came to pick me up. He looked more amused than usual, probably still thinking about our conversation from the day before.

“Ready for your big speech, Mr. Olympic Gold Medalist?” he joked, smirking at me.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help grinning. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let me make a fool of myself, alright?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, still laughing. “Just remember to keep your head on straight and not let those army officers distract you.”

I shot him a look. “I’ll be fine, man. Let’s just get going.”

The drive to the cantonment was short, and as soon as we arrived, I was struck by the sheer scale of the place. Soldiers were everywhere, moving with purpose and precision. The air itself felt different—charged with discipline and focus. It was humbling, to say the least.

We were greeted at the gate by an officer who led us to the auditorium where the seminar was being held. As we entered, I could see a sea of army personnel seated and waiting. My heart started pounding, not with nerves, but with a deep respect for the men and women in uniform. This wasn’t just any crowd. These were the people who defended our country, who put their lives on the line every day. I felt honored to be in their presence.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her.

Lt. Sia Joshi stood near the back, in her crisp uniform, speaking with another officer. Her posture was as perfect as I remembered, and her hair was still tied back in that tight bun. But it was her eyes, those same deep, piercing eyes, that caught my attention again. They held the same intensity as before, and for a moment, I was completely lost.

I quickly pulled myself together, reminding myself that I had a job to do. The time for distractions would come later—if it came at all.

I took my seat at the front, next to the colonel who would introduce me. The seminar began, with speeches from several high-ranking officers about discipline, dedication, and the values of the Indian Army. I listened intently, absorbing their words, feeling more and more grateful for the opportunity to be there.

Finally, it was my turn. The colonel called my name, and I stood up, feeling a wave of adrenaline rush through me. As I walked to the podium, I glanced once more toward the back of the room. Sia was looking at me now, her expression unreadable. I couldn’t tell if she was interested, bored, or something else entirely. I forced myself to look away and focus on the task at hand.