Dil ki Dilli

College Gossip

Rumours spread like wildfire through the college corridors, igniting whispers and glances that swirled around me with the ferocity of a summer storm.

"Avni Chawla and Rohan Khurana are dating!" echoed through the hallways, an incessant refrain that made my heart race for all the wrong reasons.

Sanju, my ever-loyal best friend, rolled her eyes in exasperation as we navigated through the sea of gossip. "People have nothing better to do," she muttered, brushing off the murmurs as if they were mere autumn leaves blown away by the wind.

I shrugged, trying to downplay the attention. "It's just gossip," I insisted, but deep down, the weight of their scrutiny felt like chains around my heart.

Yet the whispers persisted, louder and more intrusive.

One afternoon, after a long study session at the library, I stepped out into the bustling courtyard, only to overhear two classmates discussing my relationship as if it were a public spectacle.

"I heard Rohan's loaded," one said, her voice tinged with envy.

"Yeah, and Avni's just using him for fame," the other replied, laughter threading through her words.

I spun around, fury bubbling up inside me. "That's not true!" I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended.

The gossipmongers scattered like startled pigeons, but the encounter left a sour taste in my mouth, an ache of indignation that lingered long after they were gone.

Sanju found me fuming in the cafeteria, my hands clenched around my phone as if it were a lifeline. "Avni, ignore them," she advised, her voice soothing as she slid into the seat across from me. "You know the truth."

"I know, but it's hard when everyone's talking about us," I sighed, pushing my food away as the chatter around us faded into a dull roar.

Just then, Rohan appeared, his presence commanding and reassuring. He sensed my distress immediately, concern etched on his handsome face. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, leaning closer, his gaze piercing through the chaos.

I filled him in on the gossip, recounting the hurtful words that lingered in my mind. His expression turned stern, the protective side of him emerging. "We'll face this together," he said, his voice firm and unwavering.

Later that evening, Rohan whisked me away to his café, a cosy retreat where we had spent countless hours dreaming and laughing together.

"Avni, I want to show you something," he said, leading me to a quiet corner of the café, away from the watchful eyes of the world.

As we approached, my breath caught in my throat. On the wall, a stunning mural had been painted, vibrant colours swirling together to depict our journey-from our first fateful meeting at a college event to the blossoming romance that had transformed our lives.

"Rohan, this is stunning!" I exclaimed, awe washing over me as I took in the intricate details-the laughter in our eyes, the warmth of our embraces, the little moments that made our love story uniquely ours.

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with pride. "Our love story deserves to be told," he replied, his voice soft yet filled with conviction.

As we stood there, gazing at the mural that celebrated us, the rumours and gossip began to fade into insignificance, washed away by the strength of our bond.

At that moment, surrounded by the artistry of our shared experiences, I realized that our love was stronger than any rumour or hurtful word. Together, we could weather any storm, and I felt a sense of peace settle within me, wrapping around my heart like a warm embrace.

"Thank you for this," I whispered, turning to him, the admiration I felt swelling in my chest. "You always know how to make me feel better."

Rohan stepped closer, his fingers intertwining with mine. "That's what love is for, Avni. To lift each other, no matter what."

And in that cosy corner of his café, with the vibrant mural illuminating our love story, I knew that together, we could conquer anything that came our way.