There were places people visited for the first time-

yet somehow felt familiar.

Songs people heard once-

yet somehow remembered.

Eyes people met-

yet somehow recognized.

Science called it memory.

Coincidence.

Emotion.

The human mind searching for meaning where none existed.

Perhaps.

Or perhaps-

some things belonged beyond explanation.

Some connections existed quietly.

Waiting.

Crossing years.

Crossing lifetimes.

Crossing silence.

And somewhere inside a city that never slowed-

a girl carrying lotus marks had begun noticing something strange.

The unknown no longer felt distant.

It felt closer.

Watching.

Waiting.

Calling.

"You look suspicious."

"I literally exist."

"Exactly."

I stared at Ridhi.

"You wake up every morning and choose violence."

"I wake up every morning and choose observation."

"That's worse."

"It is."

The theatre department looked like emotional destruction today.

Props everywhere.

People running.

Half the class stressed.

The other half pretending they weren't stressed.

Annual showcase preparation had officially consumed everyone's sanity.

Wonderful.

"KRISHNI!"

"No."

"KRISHNI."

"I already know this conversation won't benefit me."

"You forgot costume approval."

I closed my eyes.

Peace.

Inner peace.

Krishn.

Patience.

"Krishni?"

"Hm."

"You're smiling strangely."

"I've accepted my fate."

"Scary."

"Agreed."

People moved around me.

Voices overlapping.

Scripts.

Music checks.

Lighting notes.

Chaos.

The strange thing-

I usually loved this.

The noise.

The movement.

The theatre.

But lately-

everything felt distant.

Like I existed slightly outside everything.

Watching.

Present.

Yet somehow-

not fully.

"Krishni."

"Hm?"

Professor Arvind stood near stage entrance.

"We're finalizing background music today."

"Okay sir."

"Come."

Music selection.

Simple.

Normal.

Harmless.

Which naturally meant-

life would absolutely not allow it to remain simple.

The theatre sound room smelled like old wires and dust.

Music files scattered across systems.

Students debating endlessly.

"No this one."

"No."

"That one."

"No."

"Sir please remove him."

"Not happening."

Wonderful.

Absolute chaos.

Professor Arvind adjusted files quietly.

"We need something traditional."

Someone suggested instrumental.

Someone suggested fusion.

Someone suggested classical.

And then-

the sound began.

Soft.

Gentle.

Ancient.

My entire body froze.

No.

No.

Impossible.

Flute.

A flute.

Not the same.

Not exactly.

Yet-

close.

Too close.

My breathing quietly slowed.

The room disappeared.

Voices faded.

The music continued softly.

Warm.

Ancient.

Something inside my chest tightened painfully.

Why-

Why did this hurt?

Not pain.

Not sadness.

Something else.

Longing.

Impossible longing.

The kind that made no sense.

The kind that frightened people.

"Krishni?"

I blinked.

Reality returned.

The room.

The sound system.

Students.

Present.

"Are you okay?" Ridhi asked quietly.

"Yeah."

No.

"Krishni."

"I'm fine."

Lie.

Immediate lie.

Professor Arvind noticed.

Dangerous.

Very dangerous.

"You know this composition?" he asked.

"No sir."

"You reacted."

"No sir."

Silence.

"You can step outside."

"I'm okay."

"Step outside."

Wonderful.

Public humiliation.

Amazing.

Beautiful.

I walked outside immediately.

The corridor felt quieter.

Safer.

My fingers slowly tightened around my palms.

Lotus marks.

Warm.

Always.

Warm.

The music still echoed faintly.

And suddenly-

A memory.

Not memory.

No.

Something else.

Stone pathways.

Temple bells.

Golden lamps.

Flowers.

River water.

A flute.

No.

No no no.

My eyes immediately opened.

Breathing uneven.

No.

Not here.

Not awake.

Not awake-

"Krishni."

I nearly jumped.

Professor Arvind stood nearby.

Concern visible.

"You okay?"

"Yes sir."

"No."

"I am."

"No."

Dangerous man.

Very dangerous.

"Too much stress?"

Maybe.

"College pressure?"

Maybe.

"Something else?"

Definitely.

But impossible.

"I'll manage sir."

Silence.

Then quietly-

"Managing everything alone isn't strength."

Something quietly shifted inside me.

Because lately strength felt suspiciously similar to exhaustion.

Evening arrived slowly.

Clouds covered Ahmedabad softly.

Wind carried that strange feeling rain brought before storms.

Restless.

Waiting.

I walked home slowly.

Bag resting heavily against my shoulder.

Mind louder than usual.

The flute.

Again.

Always the flute.

Always.

Why?

Questions pressed quietly against my chest.

Heavy.

Persistent.

Unanswered.

My phone buzzed.

Maa.

"Where are you?"

"Coming."

"Eat properly today."

"I do eat."

"You survive on coffee and stress."

"False accusations."

"Not false."

"Maa."

"Come home."

Soft smile.

Automatic.

Home.

Warmth.

Safety.

Normal.

I needed normal.

Desperately.

Night arrived quietly.

Assignments open.

Notebook untouched.

Wonderful.

Absolutely wonderful.

I sat near my study table.

Small Krishn murti beside books.

Soft lamp glowing quietly.

Peace.

Always.

"Do you know what's happening?"

The whisper left quietly.

Silence.

Expected.

"Because I definitely don't."

Wind moved softly.

The peacock feather resting nearby shifted gently.

A strange habit.

Talking.

Always talking.

As though-

someone listened.

Maybe faith worked like that.

Believing someone heard-

even during silence.

My fingers slowly touched the lotus marks.

Warm.

Always.

Warm.

The strange thing-

I wasn't only afraid anymore.

Something else existed now.

Curiosity.

Need.

Pull.

As though-

something beyond understanding quietly called my name.

Not loudly.

Patiently.

Waiting.

Always waiting.

Sleep arrived later than usual.

Heavy.

Uneasy.

And then-

the dream.

Moonlight.

River water.

Temple bells.

Flowers drifting softly.

The flute.

Closer.

Clearer.

Ancient pathways stretched quietly beneath moonlight.

Wind carried sandalwood fragrance.

The night felt alive.

Sacred.

My feet moved slowly.

No fear.

Only knowing.

Strange knowing.

And there-

near flowing river water-

stood him.

Closer.

Much closer.

Dark curls moving softly beneath wind.

Peacock feather.

Golden ornaments.

Dark blue.

Moonlight resting gently across impossible calm.

My heartbeat quietly trembled.

Not fear.

Not confusion.

Recognition.

Impossible recognition.

He slowly turned.

Lotus eyes.

Gentle smile.

Ancient warmth.

Peace.

Too much peace.

My throat tightened unexpectedly.

Why-

Why did looking at him feel-

like returning somewhere?

The flute slowly faded.

Temple bells echoed softly.

Wind moved.

And suddenly-

his gaze lifted.

Toward me.

Directly.

My breathing stopped.

And softly-

warmly-

gently-

that familiar voice.

"You're remembering."

Darkness.

Silence.

Nothing.

I woke instantly.

3:39 AM.

Heart racing violently.

Breathing uneven.

Hands trembling quietly.

No.

No-

The room sat silent.

Peaceful.

Too peaceful.

My fingers slowly touched the lotus marks.

Warm.

Always warm.

But tonight-

for the first time--

fear wasn't strongest.

Something else was.

The need to know.

Because whatever waited beyond dreams-

whatever waited beyond understanding-

was slowly coming closer.

And somehow-

I knew.

Soon-

everything would begin changing.

Thank u

Stay tuned

Gaura 🧿