Memories

5

Shivani

The youth festival had ended in a blaze of colour and music, and I couldn't stop smiling. Every performance was perfect, the decorations flawless, and the energy of the crowd unforgettable. But more than that—it was Kar. He looked breathtaking on stage, commanding attention like the star he was. Teachers whispered about his charm, girls screamed his name, and boys clapped in admiration. I watched from the sidelines, heart swelling with pride, secretly knowing that the man dazzling everyone was mine.

Later that night, after all the clean-up was done, the four of us— Anjali,Rahul, Karthik and me —sat sprawled in the park, laughing at random jokes, sharing snacks, and recalling funny behind-the-scenes moments from the festival. The stars twinkled above us, and for once, it felt like time had slowed down.

Out of nowhere, Kar leaned back on his elbows and sighed. "I wonder what it's like to be normal."

"Huh?" I turned to him, confused.

"I mean..." he glanced at me, his voice softer than usual, "what it's like to be you guys. To walk freely without the paparazzi trailing every step. To laugh in public without worrying about cameras. To just... be."

His words carried a weight I hadn't expected. I stared at him, the man who had everything—fame, success, money—and realized how much he longed for the one thing he couldn't buy.

"Okay then," I said, sitting up straighter. "If you want to know what it's like, I'll show you."

His brows lifted. "Show me?"

"Yes." I grinned. "Meet me tomorrow at 9 a.m. in front of my hostel. You'll get your taste of normal."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're serious?"

"Dead serious."

"Okay then," he agreed, his lips curving into a smile that made my heart skip. "It's a date."

The Next Morning

By 8:45, I was already running down the hostel stairs, clutching two caps in my hand. My heart raced—not from nerves, but excitement. I wanted to give him a day that belonged only to us, free of cameras and fame.

At exactly 9, I spotted his bike pulling up by the gate. He looked unfairly good in casuals, but he instantly toned it down by pulling on the cap I handed him.

"So, Miss Guide," he teased, "where are we off to first?"

I smirked. "Kalpana Theatre. First show of the new release."

"Wait... we're going to a local theatre?" His eyes widened like I'd suggested climbing Everest.

"Exactly. No premieres, no red carpets. Just sticky floors, noisy fans, and real people. Welcome to my world, superstar."

The theatre was buzzing with energy when we arrived. Posters of the new film covered the walls, and fans were already lining up for tickets. I joined the queue like everyone else, while Kar stood behind me, pulling his cap so low it nearly covered his face.

I stifled a laugh at how awkward he looked, hunched down as if the cap alone made him invisible. "Relax," I whispered. "No one's looking."

He gave me a side-eye. "Easy for you to say. You're not India's chocolate boy."

I rolled my eyes. "Right now, you're just my boyfriend. So shhh."

When it was our turn, I bought two tickets and some popcorn, then dragged him inside. Before entering the hall, I quickly ripped our tickets into small pieces, mixing them with the scraps of paper I'd brought from my notebook.

He frowned. "Uh... are we doing some secret ritual I should know about?"

"Not a ritual," I whispered, grinning. "Tradition. When the hero enters on screen, we throw this at the screen."

His jaw dropped. "Why?"

"Because that's what we do on the first show! It's like honouring our favourite star. Now stop questioning and enjoy."

He shook his head, muttering, "This is madness." But when the hero made his grand entry and the theatre erupted in cheers, I grabbed Karthik's hand and pulled him up, showering the screen with paper along with everyone else.

The look on his face was priceless—part shock, part amusement, part awe. He laughed, really laughed, louder than I'd heard in weeks. For once, he wasn't the star on the screen—he was just another fan in the crowd.

Throughout the film, he leaned closer to me, whispering comments, sharing popcorn, even cheering with the crowd. And no one noticed who he was. He was just another boy, hidden under a cap, holding his girlfriend's hand in the dark.

After the movie, we grabbed lunch at a tiny roadside Dhaba. Kar sat on the rickety bench like he'd never seen one before, looking fascinated as the waiter served us steel plates filled with curry and roti.

"People eat this every day?" he asked, tearing a piece of roti awkwardly.

"Yes," I giggled, showing him how to scoop it properly.

He tried, failed, made a mess, and laughed with me. The superstar who graced magazine covers was now licking curry off his fingers, completely carefree.

After lunch, we wandered through the nearby park, talking about nothing and everything. He asked me about law school, about my favourite childhood memories, about silly things like whether I preferred chocolate or vanilla ice cream. And for once, I wasn't talking to Karthik the actor. I was talking to Kar—my Kar.

When his bike finally pulled up in front of my hostel, I didn't want the day to end. He took off his cap, running a hand through his hair, his eyes softer than I'd ever seen.

He reached for my hand, holding it gently but firmly. "Thank you, Shivani."

"For what?"

"For showing me what it's like to be you. For letting me breathe today. For giving me something I'll never forget." His voice dipped, sincere and heavy with emotion. "I loved it. Every moment."

I squeezed his hand, my heart full. "I'm glad."

We stood there for a heartbeat longer, reluctant to part. Then I smiled and whispered, "Goodbye, superstar."

He chuckled. "Goodbye, normal girl."

As I walked back toward my hostel, I couldn't wipe the grin off my face. Today, for once, it wasn't about the lights, cameras, or the noise of fame. Today was about us—two people in love, living a simple day that felt more extraordinary than any red carpet.

And as I closed the hostel gate behind me, I realized something. No matter how big the world got, no matter how heavy the spotlight, we'd always find our stolen pockets of normalcy.

And that would be enough.