In the stone-paved pathways of St. Jude's College, the nighttime thunderstorm sounded like a savage symphony. From a solitary, secluded spot within the college, a woman's faint voice cried out: "Is anyone there!?"
The next day dawned. Students arrived at the college as usual. Once the classes were over, the students left the campus. All but one: Aditya Varma, a final-year Electronics student. The usually cheerful, talkative young man was now the opposite. His eyes simultaneously held untold sorrow, pain, and anger.
Drenched in the rain, Aditya reached a small circular park, the campus's oldest and most neglected spot, situated behind the abandoned library wing and away from the main college building. Students generally avoided this place after sunset. At its centre was a moss-covered, defunct fountain.
The spot carried the smell of wet earth, fallen leaves, and something else in the air—the scent of a very old and faded flower. This fragrance persisted even in the downpour. He sat on a tall stone bench beneath a large banyan tree, resting his head back. The aerial roots of the banyan hung down like the ropes of a great ship.
As he sat there soaking in the rain, his body shivered, but he didn't care about falling ill, nor was he worried about the ghost-like rumours. He kept telling himself, "You are a fool, you are a fool," drowning in the bitter taste of reality that had crashed into his innocent expectations.
He pulled a damp piece of paper from his jeans pocket. There was no message.
Nearby, he saw a plant with a white flower. He plucked the flower, crushed it with his hands, and trampled it under his feet, venting his rage onto the innocent bloom. Then, he kissed the remnants of the flower, closed his eyes, and shed a tear, before placing it in his shirt pocket.
He felt utterly alone. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the rough tree bark, trying to figure out what to do to forget what had happened.
The air near the banyan tree, which was normally cool, now felt slightly different and warmer. Aditya slowly opened his eyes, and his breath hitched in his throat. The sight he beheld made him instantly anxious.
The rain was still pouring, but a woman was standing in front of the fountain, yet not a single drop of water was wetting her. Her beauty was celestial, unbelievably captivating. She wore an ancient white garment that was very long, like a gown. She shimmered with a faint light. Her long, dark hair fell around her like a waterfall; it wasn't wet and gently swayed in the non-existent wind. Her eyes were wide and almond-shaped, a silvery-brown colour, and utterly mesmerizing.
She was staring at him, not with hatred, but with a look of intense, restless curiosity. Aditya's heart pounded. He pinched himself, wondering if it was a dream or reality. He closed his eyes, opened them again, and stared intently.
She had no shadow, and the raindrops weren't falling on her because she seemed to be encased in a light-proof bubble.
"Who are you?" he asked, with a mixture of fear and curiosity. He realized that the rumours about a ghost in this place were not just rumours; they were true. His fear should have made him run, but the profound sorrow in his eyes kept him rooted to the spot.
She did not speak. Instead, a silent, clear voice echoed directly from his chest and into the void. "You are heartbroken. I understand that feeling."
"I know that Priya only thinks of you as a friend. She does not see you as a lover."
Upon hearing this, his eyes widened in shock. Aditya had confessed his love to Priya just an hour ago. She had rejected him, saying, "No, Aditya, I only like you as a friend. I don't think of you as a lover. You are a very good friend of mine. I love someone else." This was why Aditya was heartbroken and had come to this spot, soaking in the rain. But how this woman knew this information filled him with wonder and dread.
"How do you know?" he asked the woman.
A faint, melancholic smile appeared on her lips. "I am Maya. I have seen many people in this very place. But your emotions give me a new kind of feeling, something I haven't seen before. You seem a little strange to me," the spirit said.
Aditya looked at the spirit with great fascination and curiosity. It was the pull of shared sorrow, a strange, profound connection between a fully human being and a completely incorporeal one.
As he looked at the female spirit, he reminisced about his memories with Priya: studying with her, buying her favourite mango juice, taking photos with her. For the first time since Priya's rejection, he felt a sense of not being completely alone in that moment.