Swish had everything he once dreamed of: a career in Bangalore with a title that carried weight, a life that many would envy, and accomplishments that marked years of grit and ambition. But beneath the success lies a quiet, lingering question: Is th...
Today, I had a dream. One of those dreams that feels so real it grips you, lingers even after you open your eyes. I was at an event—a grand ceremony of some sort—and my father was the chief guest. There he was, standing tall on the stage, his presence commanding the room, every bit the man I've always admired.
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He called me and my brother forward, his voice echoing with pride, and we made our way to the stage. There was excitement in the air, the sound of applause filling my ears, but underneath it, a strange tension I couldn't shake. As I walked up, the lights, the faces in the crowd—they all blurred together, until finally, I was there, holding the award in my hands.
And then... I saw her. Meera.
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The shock hit me like a punch to the chest. Meera—my ex, the one I thought I'd moved past, forgotten in the way we all try to forget things that hurt too much. She was there, standing in front of me, waiting to receive the award. I felt my heart stutter, a rush of memories flooding in. Her face, her eyes—still holding that same quiet intensity, that familiar look that I once thought I knew so well.
In that instant, I forgot the room, the applause, everything around us. It was just her and me, standing there, connected for one brief moment. I handed her the award, our hands brushing for a second that felt like forever. She looked at me, and there was something in her gaze—a flicker of surprise, maybe even something unspoken, something I wished I could reach out and grasp.
My mind was racing. I wanted to say something, anything to bridge the gap between us. But words failed me, caught somewhere in my throat. And then, just like that, the scene dissolved, and I was left grasping at fragments, the dream slipping away as I woke up.
I lay there in the dark, my heart pounding, staring at the ceiling as the memories lingered. The echoes of her face, the silence between us—it all stayed with me, heavy and unresolved. I had thought I'd buried those feelings, moved on. But now, I wasn't so sure.
The dream stayed with me for days, lingering like a shadow that stretched across my thoughts, following me everywhere. Even as I tried to shake it off, fragments of Meera's face, her expression, the brush of her hand as I passed her the award—none of it would leave. I tried to focus on the present, on moving forward, but it felt like I was caught between the past and the future, unable to fully grasp either one.
