People often misunderstood quiet people.

They thought silence meant calmness.

Peace.

Stability.

Strength.

But sometimes-

silence simply meant someone had learned how to carry storms without making noise.

Krishni mathur had become very good at carrying storms.

Not because she wanted to.

Because life slowly teaches people how.

Morning sunlight spread softly across Ahmedabad.

The city breathed awake.

Temple bells echoed somewhere in the distance.

Street vendors prepared fresh flowers.

Tea stalls filled with early conversations.

Life moved forward.

Always.

Inside one apartment-

warmth existed quietly.

"Krishu beta!"

Her mother's voice echoed through the house.

"You're getting late again."

"I know!"

"You said that ten minutes ago."

"I'm emotionally struggling."

"Emotionally struggle faster."

"I feel unsupported."

"You'll survive."

"I won't."

"You will."

Life continued normally.

Like always.

And perhaps-

that was the strange thing about struggles.

They existed quietly.

Hidden inside ordinary days.

Hidden behind smiles.

Hidden behind laughter.

Hidden inside people who seemed completely fine.

The problem with overthinking-

is that your brain never stops.

Not while eating.

Not while studying.

Not while sleeping.

Not even while existing.

I sat quietly at the dining table.

Open notebook.

Untouched breakfast.

Completely distracted.

"Krishu."

"Hm?"

"You've been staring at one page for six minutes."

"I have not."

"You have."

"Maa please."

"You slept badly."

"I'm fine."

"Dream again?"

My fingers slowly tightened.

Too quickly.

Too automatically.

Maa noticed.

She always noticed.

"No," I said quietly.

Lie.

"Krishu."

"Hm."

"You don't always have to keep everything inside."

I looked down silently.

Because how do you explain things-

you don't understand yourself?

How do I explain dreams that felt more real than reality?

A flute no one else heard.

Eyes I had never seen.

Yet somehow-

missed.

Missed.

Why did that word feel right?

It made no sense.

None.

"Eat."

"Maa-"

"Eat."

I sighed.

Defeated again.

One day-

I would win.

Today clearly wasn't that day.

College felt unusually exhausting.

Even before classes started.

People moved around normally.

Laughing.

Talking.

Living.

I watched them quietly.

Sometimes-

I wondered how people made life look easy.

Because mine constantly felt like balancing twenty emotions together.

Stress.

Fear.

Deadlines.

Expectations.

Dreams.

Questions.

Too many questions.

"KRISHNI!"

Ridhi.

Obviously.

She appeared carrying coffee dramatically.

"You look like someone rejected your entire existence."

"Good morning to you too."

"You look tired."

"I am tired."

"You always say that."

"Because I always am."

"You're becoming eighty years old mentally."

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

Fair.

We walked toward class together.

"You submitted script analysis?"

"No."

"Character study?"

"No."

"Performance notes?"

"No."

She stopped walking.

"Krishu."

"I'm doing them."

"When?"

"Today."

"You're lying."

"I literally-"

"You're lying."

I sighed dramatically.

The problem wasn't laziness.

It never was.

The problem-

was me.

Thinking too much.

Perfecting too much.

Doubting too much.

Nothing ever felt enough.

My work.

My acting.

My appearance.

My abilities.

Everything felt unfinished.

Incomplete.

Small.

"Krishni?"

"Hm?"

"You disappeared again."

"I'm here."

"Mentally?"

"Questionable."

"Emotionally?"

"More questionable."

"Need coffee?"

"Need peace."

"Impossible."

Fair point.

The theatre room buzzed with noise.

Today's practical involved emotional improvisation.

Wonderful.

Absolutely wonderful.

The exact thing my emotionally unstable brain needed.

Professor Arvind stood near the stage.

"Today's exercise-"

Collective suffering immediately filled the room.

"You'll perform raw emotional memory work."

Silence.

Someone whispered-

"We're finished."

Honestly.

Accurate.

Professor Arvind continued calmly.

"No acting."

"Sir theatre students don't survive without acting."

"You will today."

Wonderful.

Absolutely wonderful.

Groups formed.

Students prepared.

One by one-

people performed.

Laughter.

Anger.

Fear.

Memories.

Emotions.

Then-

"Krishni."

Of course.

Of course.

I slowly stood.

Walked toward stage.

Lights felt brighter.

Breathing harder.

"Close your eyes," Professor Arvind said calmly.

"Remember something painful."

Painful.

Interesting.

Because painful things never needed remembering.

They stayed.

Quietly.

Always.

"Now speak."

Nothing came.

Silence.

Too much silence.

My chest slowly tightened.

Suddenly-

I wasn't inside college anymore.

I was thirteen.

School competition.

Standing backstage.

Hands shaking.

People laughing.

Someone whispering-

"She isn't good enough."

"She's too quiet."

"She won't win."

The old feeling returned instantly.

Fear.

Smallness.

Embarrassment.

Not enough.

Never enough.

"Krishni?"

Professor's voice felt distant.

My throat tightened.

No.

Not here.

Not now.

I forced myself back.

Present.

College.

Stage.

Reality.

"I'm sorry sir."

Silence.

Professor Arvind watched quietly.

Then softly-

"You don't trust yourself enough."

My fingers tightened slowly.

No answer came.

Because he wasn't wrong.

Evening arrived quietly.

Golden sunlight spread softly through college corridors.

Students slowly left.

Campus emptied.

Peace settled.

I sat alone outside the theatre building.

Notebook open.

Blank page.

Blank mind.

Wonderful.

Wind moved gently.

My fingers unconsciously traced the lotus mark resting against my palm.

Warm.

Always warm.

"Krishn."

The whisper left quietly.

Soft.

Natural.

"Can you make my brain stop thinking for five minutes?"

Silence.

Expected.

"I'll even offer extra flowers tomorrow."

Wind moved softly.

A leaf drifted near my feet.

Ridiculous.

I smiled anyway.

Because somehow-

talking to him helped.

Always.

Even when answers never came.

Or maybe-

they did.

Just differently.

My phone buzzed.

Maa.

"Coming home?"

"Five minutes."

"Don't skip dinner."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Good."

The call ended.

The campus slowly darkened.

Lights flickering alive.

Quiet settling softly.

Then-

the flute.

Again.

My breath stopped instantly.

No.

No.

No.

The sound floated softly through evening air.

Gentle.

Beautiful.

Ancient.

Calling.

My heartbeat slowly quickened.

The notebook slipped from my hand.

Wind moved stronger suddenly.

Cold.

Strange.

Familiar.

My eyes slowly lifted.

Near the old pathway-

someone stood.

White clothing.

Motionless.

Watching.

Too far away.

Too unclear.

My chest tightened strangely.

Who-

Who was that?

The figure slowly turned.

And disappeared.

Gone.

Completely gone.

Fear crawled quietly beneath my skin.

Not fear exactly.

Something else.

Recognition.

Impossible recognition.

As though-

some forgotten part of me-

remembered.

That night-

sleep came slowly.

Restlessly.

And when dreams finally arrived-

they changed again.

Moonlight.

River water.

Temple bells.

Flowers.

Ancient stone pathways.

The flute.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

My feet moved slowly.

Heart racing.

Someone stood there.

Near flowing water.

Dark blue.

Golden light.

Peacock feather.

This time-

closer.

Clearer.

My breathing stopped.

The figure slowly turned.

And suddenly-

a voice.

Gentle.

Warm.

Ancient.

Familiar.

"You're late."

My eyes widened.

No.

No-

Before I could see-

Before I could understand-

Darkness.

Silence.

And then-

I woke.

4:03 AM.

Heart racing violently.

Tears quietly resting in my eyes.

My hand instinctively moved toward my lotus marks.

Warm.

Strangely warm.

Outside-

the first temple bells of dawn slowly echoed.

And somewhere-

far beyond understanding-

something ancient waited patiently.

Because some destinies-

arrive slowly.

One whisper at a time.

My outfit

Thank u

Hope u like the chapter

Stay tuned

Gaura 🧿