Some memories did not belong to the mind.

They belonged somewhere deeper.

Quieter.

Hidden beneath logic.

Hidden beneath time.

People often believed remembering meant seeing clearly.

It didn't.

Sometimes remembering arrived as emotion.

As familiarity.

As unexplained comfort.

Sometimes-

the heart recognized things long before the mind understood them.

And somewhere between ordinary college days and impossible dreams-

Krishni mathur stood at the edge of something she could no longer ignore.

Because confusion could become fear.

Fear could become resistance.

But recognition-

recognition changed everything.

"Absolutely not."

"Absolutely yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Krishni."

"Ridhi."

"We're going."

"We are literally not."

"We literally are."

"I have work."

"You have stress."

"I have assignments."

"You have overthinking."

"I have responsibilities."

"You have emotional damage."

I stared.

She stared.

"That felt personal."

"It was."

Wonderful.

Absolutely wonderful.

The theatre showcase was three days away.

Which meant-

stress.

Panic.

Chaos.

Suffering.

Beautiful.

Amazing.

Perfect.

"You need fresh air," Ridhi said.

"I need sleep."

"You won't sleep."

"I know."

"So we're going."

"Where?"

"Temple fair."

"No."

"Yes."

"Ridhi."

"Krishni."

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

Fair.

Unfortunately.

Very fair.

Evening arrived quietly.

Clouds painted soft shades across the sky.

Lights slowly awakened across crowded streets.

People moved everywhere.

Conversations.

Laughter.

Families.

Children.

Life.

Normal life.

The temple courtyard glowed softly beneath golden lamps.

Flower fragrance drifted gently through evening air.

Temple bells echoed.

Devotional songs played quietly.

Warmth.

Peace.

Comfort.

Something inside my chest quietly loosened.

Strange.

How easily temples calmed me.

Like stepping into somewhere familiar.

Somewhere safe.

Ridhi walked beside me.

Eating prasad before receiving prasad somehow.

Impressive.

Very impressive.

"You look calmer."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm existing."

"You say that a lot."

Because existing lately-

felt harder than it should.

We slowly moved deeper inside.

People stood quietly praying.

Some smiling.

Some crying.

Some simply standing silently.

Faith looked different on everyone.

I quietly folded my hands.

Eyes slowly closing.

Silence.

Just silence.

And softly-

inside my thoughts-

"Krishn..."

Nothing elaborate.

Nothing poetic.

Just-

presence.

Quiet.

Comfortable presence.

Wind moved softly.

Temple bells echoed.

And suddenly-

the flute.

No.

No.

Not here.

Not now.

My eyes opened immediately.

Breathing quietly stopped.

The melody drifted softly through evening air.

Gentle.

Ancient.

Beautiful.

Impossible.

No.

No no-

Not here.

Not awake.

Not-

My feet moved.

Automatically.

Without thinking.

"Krishni?"

Ridhi's voice faded behind me.

The melody floated softly somewhere deeper.

Pulling.

Calling.

Again.

Always.

People moved around me.

Voices blurred.

Temple lights glowed softly.

My heartbeat slowly increased.

Faster.

Faster.

The sound grew stronger.

Closer.

Closer-

And suddenly-

I stopped.

An old section near temple gardens.

Quieter.

Almost empty.

Wind moved softly.

Flowers rested near ancient stone pathways.

And there-

beneath an old banyan tree-

stood someone.

White clothing.

Still.

Motionless.

Watching.

My breathing quietly stopped.

No.

No-

Why-

Why did this feel-

familiar?

The figure slowly turned.

Not fully.

Just enough.

Enough for my chest to tighten painfully.

Not pain.

Recognition.

Impossible recognition.

My feet moved unconsciously.

One step.

Two.

Three-

And suddenly-

someone walked past.

Only one second.

One moment.

One interruption.

And when I looked again-

No one.

Gone.

Completely gone.

"No."

The whisper left immediately.

No.

No.

I saw-

I definitely-

"KRISHNI!"

Ridhi reached me moments later.

"What happened?"

"Someone-"

My voice stopped.

Someone?

Who?

I couldn't explain.

Couldn't understand.

Couldn't-

"You're pale."

"I'm fine."

Lie.

Terrible lie.

"Krishni."

"I'm okay."

"You disappeared."

"I know."

"You scared me."

Something quietly twisted inside my chest.

Guilt.

Always guilt.

"I'm sorry."

Silence settled.

Gentle.

Soft.

"You've changed lately," Ridhi whispered quietly.

Dangerous words.

Very dangerous.

Because-

I knew.

That night-

sleep didn't come easily.

Thoughts refused silence.

The temple.

The flute.

That figure.

Recognition.

Recognition.

Recognition.

Why?

Why-

did impossible things feel familiar?

The room sat quiet.

Peaceful.

My study lamp glowed softly.

Krishn's murti rested near books.

Steady.

Calm.

Always calm.

"What's happening to me?"

The whisper left quietly.

Silence.

Expected.

My fingers slowly touched the lotus marks.

Warm.

Always.

Warm.

The strange thing-

I wasn't only confused anymore.

Something had changed.

Something quiet.

Something frightening.

I wanted answers.

Needed them.

Desperately.

Sleep arrived eventually.

Soft.

Uneasy.

And then-

the dream.

Moonlight.

River.

Temple bells.

Flowers drifting quietly.

The flute.

Closer.

Closest yet.

Ancient pathways stretched beneath silver light.

Wind carried sandalwood fragrance.

The night felt alive.

Sacred.

And there-

standing near flowing water-

him.

Closer.

Clearer.

Lotus eyes.

Dark curls.

Peacock feather moving softly beneath wind.

Golden ornaments catching moonlight.

Peace.

Impossible peace.

No fear.

No confusion.

Only-

recognition.

My feet moved slowly.

Heart trembling quietly.

Not afraid.

Not anymore.

Closer.

Closer-

And suddenly-

his gaze lifted.

Toward me.

Gentle.

Warm.

Ancient.

And softly-

for the first time-

I whispered-

"Have we met before?"

Silence.

Wind moved softly.

Temple bells echoed quietly.

And then-

that familiar voice.

Gentle.

Patient.

Timeless.

"Long before you remember."

Darkness.

Silence.

Nothing.

I woke instantly.

4:07 AM.

Heart racing.

Breathing uneven.

Hands trembling quietly.

Tears rested silently against my eyes.

No.

No-

My fingers immediately closed around the lotus marks.

Warm.

Always warm.

But tonight-

for the first time-

something frightened me more than mystery.

Recognition.

Because recognizing something impossible-

meant one terrifying truth.

Somewhere-

deep inside-

a part of me already knew.

And slowly-

very slowly-

the forgotten pieces had begun returning.

Thanks

Stay tuned

Gaura 🧿