Ayra came home with the quiet weight of the day still clinging to her like dust on her bicycle wheels. She parked her pink bicycle beside the veranda and walked straight into her bedroom as though her body remembered its path before her mind caught up. Her thoughts were trembling threads, tangled and restless. She took a bath, the warm water washing away the perspiration of college corridors and the sting of unwanted memories. She changed into her soft pink top and white pants, then slipped into her bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as it spun in slow circles like her spiraling emotions.
Priya's words echoed first—gentle yet powerful, like ripples spreading across a still lake.Passion. Love. Hard work. Self-made achievements.Priya had lived every one of those words. Her passion for dance had shaped her destiny, earned her recognition, opened a doorway to Switzerland, and stitched her dreams into something real. Priya had built her life with her own hands, with the rhythm of her heartbeat, and with the courage to chase what she loved.
Ayra whispered to herself, "Priya's words are true… One should never give up on dreams, on passion, on love, or on achievements that come from their own sweat."Yet inside her, a soft tremor lingered.Will people ever love my stories? Will I ever get appreciation? Will at least one person feel moved by my words?
But another thought rose from the depths of her heart, uninvited yet warm—The Mystery Man.A nameless stranger who had only offered his hand.She hadn't seen his face.He hadn't seen hers.Yet her heart beat faster whenever she remembered that moment."Why does my heart move so fast?" she whispered into the dimness. "I don't even know him… I'll forget him. He's just a stranger, and I'm a stranger to him."
To distract herself, Ayra walked to her bookshelf and found her unfinished manuscript—"Roy, The Magical Watch."She held it tightly, whispering, "I'll complete this. I'll start my writing career with this and many other stories."
Just then, her father's voice echoed from outside."AYRA, dinner is ready! Come to the dining table."
She placed the book on her study table and joined him. After dinner, she returned to her room, switched off the lights, and fell asleep, unaware that the next day would stir the depths of her soul even more.
THE NEXT DAY
Ayra reached college early. She saw Reena and Gautam laughing together, looking unusually close. The moment struck her unexpectedly, triggering another memory of the Mystery Man. She blinked hard, annoyed at her own heart."He's all over my mind," she whispered.
In the classroom, fear crept into her chest.Mr. PP sir… he'll scold me for not writing the imposition.Her phone rang—Priya calling.
"Ayra, where are you?""In college.""Good! We'll meet today. I'll start your dance lessons."Ayra accidentally blurted, "I might not come… I'll get punished again.""What? Why?""Mr. PP always thinks I'm at fault. Reena lied to him last time…"Priya reassured her, "Don't worry. Nothing will happen today. Just go to class. I'm here if anything happens."
Ayra ended the call just as students started filling the room.Mr. PP entered."Good morning, students.""Good morning, sir."
He cleared his throat.
"You all know the basketball competition is next week. The winner team and the best player will have their names printed on the College Achievements Board and in the newspaper. Cash prizes will also be awarded."
Excited murmurs spread through the classroom.
Vicky smirked confidently to his friends. "I'm the best player here. I already selected my team—Preethi, Reena, Gautam, and Sheki. We'll show everyone our talent and win."
But just then, Mr. PP added,
"The librarian informed me there are two teams from this class—Vicky's team and Ayra's team."
Silence fell.
"AYRA?!""Seriously?""Does she even know how to play?""Who's in her team?"
Ayra lowered her eyes, letting the comments pass over her like cold wind.
After the class, Reena and Gautam cornered her.
"How dare you!" Reena hissed. "Withdraw your name. Or face consequences."Gautam added sharply, "Because of you, I lost the school competition once. Don't ruin this one too."
Ayra looked at them with steady eyes."I'll see who the loser is."Her voice trembled—but with determination."I'm not giving up. If I'm determined to play and win, I will. I won't leave my dreams or passion for anyone."
Reena scoffed. "We don't want to win against a loser.""You are a loser," Gautam spat.
But Ayra stepped forward."I'll fight hard. I'll practice. I'll arrange my own team somehow. I'm not taking your advice this time. Keep it to yourselves."
She pushed Reena lightly aside and ran out of the classroom, breath heavy, emotions burning.
As she reached the corridor, a thought struck her.
"Oh no… I forgot to return the library books. And I promised Mr. Paul I'd help him."
She rushed to the library.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Paul," she said breathlessly.
But Mr. Paul simply smiled."No need, Ayra. Thank you for returning the books. You're a student, not my assistant."
Ayra shook her head gently."You help us all—study materials, assessments, doubt clearing. And your assistant is on leave. Exams are near. Students will need notes and materials today. If you sort alone, it'll get late. But if I help, we'll finish before evening. I like helping… it feels like responsibility, not burden."
Mr. Paul looked at her warmly."Ayra… you're a kind soul. A girl with a golden heart. Everyone misunderstands you, but you always think of others first. I hope God sends someone into your life—someone who supports you, gives you happiness, someone with a diamond heart who matches yours."
Ayra blushed, her cheeks turning soft pink."Mr. Paul, you're making me blush…"
"Sometimes my words become true," he chuckled.
They worked together until evening, arranging piles of books into neat shelves. At last, Ayra texted Priya:I can't attend dance lesson today, sis.
By the time they were done, it was already 6:30 p.m.
"I must go now," Ayra said.Before she left, Mr. Paul stopped her.
"I kept some study materials aside for you. Take them. They'll help with exams. You're in both basketball and dance competitions—you'll need these."
He handed her the books with gentle care.
Ayra held them close and whispered, "Thank you… truly."
She left the library, went to the parking area, and took her bicycle. As she pedaled away, the wind brushing her cheeks, she thought again of Mr. Paul's words.
"I'll never find such people in my life," she whispered.
But then, another faceless memory drifted in—
The Mystery Man.
And Ayra's heart fluttered like a secret kept by destiny.