THEM 'Ishman'

Until I found you

In a quaint coastal town where the sun dipped below the horizon in a symphony of colors, Ishan found solace in his favorite spot: a small, tucked-away café called "The Ocean's Heart." 

With floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the endless blue, it was the perfect place for a writer like him to lose himself in his thoughts. 

He spent countless hours there, tapping away on his laptop, weaving stories of love and adventure that mirrored the dreams he carried in his heart.

Yet, despite the beauty surrounding him, a sense of emptiness lingered. 

As the sun set, casting a golden glow across the waves, Ishan often watched couples stroll hand in hand, laughter echoing through the salty air. 

He longed for a connection, for someone to share his dreams with, but each day ended with him feeling more alone.

One sunny afternoon, while Ishan sat at his usual table, the café door swung open with a flourish, and a sudden gust of wind swept through, sending napkins and papers fluttering like leaves in a storm. 

Amidst the chaos, a cheerful laugh cut through the noise. Ishan looked up to see a boy with dark curls and a bright smile, chasing after the runaway napkins.

"Sorry about that!" the boy exclaimed, his cheeks flushed with laughter. "I didn't mean to create a scene. I guess the wind has a mind of its own today!"

Ishan couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "No harm done! It adds a bit of excitement to my otherwise dull afternoon."

The boy gathered the scattered papers and, noticing Ishan's laptop tilted his head curiously. "Are you a writer?"

"I am." Ishan replied, a spark of pride lighting his eyes. "Just working on a story. How about you? What brings you here?"

"I'm Shubman." he introduced himself, extending a hand. "I just moved to town, hoping to find some inspiration for my art. I'm an aspiring painter."

"Ishan.." he said, shaking Shubman's hand. "A painter, huh? That's awesome! What do you like to paint?"

Shubman's eyes lit up. "Everything! But I love capturing moments—sunsets, city streets, the ocean. There's so much beauty to explore here. But sometimes, I feel like I'm just wandering aimlessly."

"I get that." Ishan said, feeling an unexpected connection. "I often feel lost in my writing, too. Like I'm trying to find the right words to express what I'm feeling."

As they talked, a comfortable camaraderie blossomed. Shubman's enthusiasm was contagious, and Ishan found himself drawn to his passion and energy.

"Would you like to see some of my paintings?" Shubman asked, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice. "I have a small studio nearby."

"I'd love to!" Ishan replied, genuinely excited. "I'd be honored to see your work."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, like the waves crashing against the shore. As they left the café, Ishan felt a flutter in his stomach, something he hadn't experienced in a long time.

Over the next few weeks, Shubman continued to visit "The Ocean's Heart." They met regularly, sharing laughter and stories, their friendship deepening with each encounter. 

Ishan learned more about Shubman's passion for painting, while Shubman found inspiration in Ishan's words. 

They explored the town together, visiting hidden cafés and scenic spots, each adventure filled with the warmth of budding feelings.

One evening, as they strolled along the beach, the sun casting a golden hue over everything, Shubman paused, turning to face Ishan. "You know, I've been thinking..."