Notes of Love

melodies of longing

Manik's heart raced as he sprinted toward Nandini, the rush of adrenaline from his late arrival mingling with a flutter of excitement at seeing her. The familiar sight of her beneath the sprawling branches of the old tree grounded him, a comforting presence amidst the chaos of his morning. As he enveloped her in a hug, the world around him faded—her warmth felt like an anchor, reminding him of why he rushed through the hectic campus life. "Sorry, Nandu, woke up late," he said, guilt tugging at him. His words spilled out as they walked toward the building, the urgency of their lateness pressing on him. But amidst that rush, he was struck by how much he cherished these moments together, the mundane yet precious reality of simply being near her.

When he professed, "Love you, Jaana," his voice carried a playful sincerity. It was an everyday ritual, a way of weaving their lives together through casual declarations. Yet, when he noticed Nandini's lack of response, a subtle shift occurred within him. Confusion crept in as he observed her distant gaze, as if she were standing on the precipice of a thought that kept eluding her. His heart sank slightly at the realization that her mind was elsewhere, weighed down by something he couldn't quite grasp. "Hey! I said I love you," he repeated, his tone shifting from lighthearted to concern. It wasn't just about the words; it was about the connection they shared, and he felt a sudden urgency to reel her back into their moment.

Nandini's response was a delayed echo, and her distant demeanor pierced through him like a cold wind. "Huh?" she murmured, pulled from her thoughts as if she had been wandering in a daydream. For a fleeting moment, her eyes flickered with something unspoken, a weight that had settled between them, obscuring the usual light in her expression. "Love you," she replied softly, but it felt hollow, like a note played on a piano that missed the mark. Manik sensed a fracture in their familiar rhythm, a disconnect that sent a wave of unease through him. Was she upset? Overwhelmed? He needed to know, to understand what had pulled her away from him.

"Is everything fine?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. The urgency of his question hung in the air, pregnant with his worry. He wanted to bridge the gap, to hold her close and unravel the threads of her disquiet. Yet, her reply, "Yeah, Manik," came out as a mere whisper, shrouded in ambiguity. It was a reassurance that felt more like a barrier, and his heart ached with the instinct that there was more beneath the surface. He longed to reach her, to dissolve the distance that had crept in so silently between them. In that moment, amidst the chatter of students and the bustle of college life, he felt a profound need to protect her from whatever storm was brewing within, even as he struggled to comprehend it himself.

Nandini's announcement hung in the air like a sudden storm cloud, and Manik felt a chill wash over him. "I am going to Mangalore tomorrow," she said, her tone steady but her eyes betraying an undercurrent of uncertainty. It hit him like a punch to the gut. "Oh..." he paused, the realization settling in. The weight of her words felt heavier than he expected. "But why?" he asked, trying to mask the anxiety creeping into his voice. The thought of her being away, especially now, made his heart race for all the wrong reasons.

"Chachi has been wanting to meet me," Nandini replied, her voice soft yet resolute. There was an inflection of obligation in her words, and he could sense the tug of family pulling her away. Manik struggled with the feeling of helplessness as he watched her speak, feeling like he was losing her to something beyond their little world. "When will you come back?" he pressed, his mind racing with the implications of her absence. "Two weeks maybe," she answered, and a tight knot formed in his stomach. Two weeks felt like an eternity, a void where their routine would be shattered.

"But next week is your birthday," he uttered, the words escaping him before he could fully process them. He felt a pang of disappointment as he spoke. They had always celebrated her birthday together, and the thought of her being miles away on such a special day felt almost unbearable. The excitement of planning surprises and sharing laughter was replaced with a sense of impending loss. Would she even want to celebrate away from him?