My name is Deepak.
This story belongs to the summer vacations after my 11th grade—
a time when nothing felt normal,
and everything felt heavier than it should have.
I didn't score well in 11th.
Not bad enough to fail,
but bad enough to disappoint.
At home, the mood changed completely.
My mother tried to stay calm, but I could see the worry in her eyes.
My father… he was angry. Really angry.
He had expected more from me.
And maybe that hurt more than his anger.
Because of this, my mother decided to send me to tuition.
She thought it would help.
I didn't argue. I didn't have the courage to.
The First Day at Tuition
On the first day, my elder brother came with me.
Everyone there—teachers, students—already knew him.
I was just "his younger brother."
Inside, I was nervous.
The classroom felt unfamiliar.
I looked around and found a bench where no one was sitting nearby.
I chose that one.
I sat quietly, opened my notebook,
and started writing everything the teacher said.
I didn't talk to anyone.
Some students from my school were there too—
people I had never spoken to before.
They kept glancing at me.
To avoid eye contact, I started drawing in my notebook.
A new boy came and sat beside me.
We talked a little.
That's how I made my first friend there.
But honestly....
that day wasn't important because of him.
Tuition ended.
I walked outside and stood in the middle of the road,
waiting for my father to pick me up.
One by one, students left.
Soon, I was standing there alone.
Then—
Someone crossed right in front of me.
A red top.
Light blue jeans.
Pink shoes.
A small bag hanging on her shoulder.
Before I could understand anything,
she was already gone.
For the next ten minutes, while waiting for my father,
my mind wasn't calm.
I kept thinking about her.
At home, lying on my bed, I told myself—
She was really beautiful… but it's over. I'll never see her again.
I didn't know how wrong I was.
The next day, while entering the tuition class,
someone had placed a chair right near the gate.
I was shy by nature.
Whenever I entered a room, I walked looking at the ground.
That day too, I did the same.
But the chair was blocking my way.
I looked up.
It was her.
The same girl.
She was sitting there.
For a few seconds, everything paused.
My eyes froze on her face.
She looked at me and asked,
"What happened?"
That snapped me back to reality.
Without saying anything,
I went to my seat and sat down quietly.
From that day, things changed.
The classroom gate was in the east.
She always sat near it.
I was in the far west corner—
from where it was difficult to see her.
But I adjusted my bench.
I wanted a full view of the class.
Half my attention was on studies.
Half… on her.
Days passed like this.
Silent glances.
Quick looks.
And a feeling I didn't know how to explain.
Trying to Get Closer
I started observing her.
Her friends.
Who she talked to the most.
Who stayed around her.
I wasn't confident,
but I was logical.
I chose one of her friends—
a girl who didn't have many male friends.
One day, I asked her for a notebook.
It was just an excuse… to start a conversation.
She turned out to be friendly.
Very friendly.
Within two days,
I had her Instagram ID.
And I told her the truth.
"I like your friend."
She said,
"Then tell her."
I replied,
"I'm scared."
The First Step
On the fifth day,
I followed her on Instagram.
She followed back within ten minutes.
My heart raced.
She had a note in her bio.
I copied it and added it to mine.
She removed it.
I knew other boys were trying too.
That scared me.
So I gathered all my courage
and sent her a message.
I tried to sound confident.
I didn't want her to think I was weak.
But I made a mistake.
I spoke too casually.
She replied coldly,
"You don't know how to talk to girls?"
My chest felt heavy.
Somehow, I managed the conversation and finally said—
"I like you."
She asked,
"Since when?"
I said,
"Five days."
She paused.
Then she said,
"I need to focus on studies. 12th is important."
I agreed.
I didn't argue.
I didn't beg.
I deleted the chat
and told myself—
It's over.
But It Wasn't
The next day,
I told her friend everything.
We talked for a while.
Then I said something without thinking—
"Should I take her for ice cream?
You come along… I won't be able to ask her directly."
Her friend smiled.
Later that day, during tuition,
she talked to her.
I don't know what she said.
But when tuition ended—
She agreed.
And That's Where I'll Stop…
Because that ice cream evening—
the nervousness,
the silence,
the first real closeness—
That moment changed everything.
And from there,
this story took a very different turn.
That evening, we walked together.
Not side by side—
not close enough to touch—
but close enough to feel each other's presence.
We stopped near an ice cream shop.
There was a bench outside.
She sat on one end.
I sat on the other.
Her friend sat between us.
It wasn't planned like that.
It just… happened.
Maybe all three of us were shy in our own ways.
The First Ice Cream Together
Her friend leaned closer to me and whispered,
"I'll go. You two talk."
Panic hit me.
"No… it's fine. We'll go together," I said quickly.
But she didn't listen.
She made an excuse
and walked away.
And suddenly—
It was just the two of us.
My first time, sitting with a girl like this.
My hands were shaking.
I ordered ice cream,
but I couldn't even hold it properly.
Some fell on my hand.
Some on my shirt.
Some… I don't even know where.
She was busy on her phone.
Maybe nervous.
Maybe pretending not to notice.
I ate fast—
too fast.
Then I tried to talk.
Stupid questions.
"How many people are there in your family?"
"How many brothers and sisters?"
"Which class are you in?"
Yes…
even though she studied with me,
I still asked that.
She smiled slightly.
After a while, she said,
"Let's go."
And just like that, it ended.
The Happiest Walk Home
On my way back home,
I couldn't stop smiling.
I wasn't dancing properly—
but my steps felt lighter.
I laughed for no reason.
I smiled at nothing.
At home, I tried to study.
I couldn't.
I lay on my bed,
staring at the ceiling,
thinking about her.
We hadn't talked much.
But my imagination…
It was already running ahead.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message.
"Thanks for the ice cream."
It was her.
My heart almost jumped out.
I replied,
"My pleasure."
She just liked the message.
Maybe it sounded too formal.
Maybe I overdid it.
But I didn't care.
We started talking again.
Nights That Felt Different
That night, we talked till 11 PM.
At home, my father always told me to sleep by 10.
And I usually did.
But that night—
I was chatting secretly,
under the blanket,
with a smile on my face.
In tuition, we didn't talk much.
No eye contact.
No conversations.
But at night—
It was different.
We talked like old friends.
Comfortably.
Freely.
Days turned into weeks.
Almost a month passed.
Slowly,
we started talking a little in class too—
about studies,
about small things.
Nothing obvious.
But enough.
She used to bring snacks during the break—
chips, chocolates, biscuits.
She shared them with her friends.
After we started talking,
I shifted to the bench right behind her.
The pathway between our benches was small.
During breaks,
she shared snacks with me too.
I never brought anything.
My mother gave me 20 rupees,
and I always saved it.
But one day, I thought—
She shares with me every day.
I should do something too.
So I started buying chocolates for her.
Not expensive.
Just simple ones.
I gave her.
She gave me.
It felt equal.
It felt… right.
Something Without a Name
In my mind,
we were already in a relationship.
In her mind?
Maybe just friends.
She never said anything.
But I had already imagined a future.
That's what I was good at—
imagining.
One day, some boys planned to bunk tuition.
Six hours of tuition felt too long.
We thought,
What will they know?
We left in the morning
and planned to return before the class ended.
We enjoyed for four hours.
But then—
The tuition teacher called my brother.
"Deepak didn't come today."
When I returned,
my family was searching everywhere.
I was walking calmly toward tuition
when suddenly—
I saw them.
My parents.
Relatives.
Everyone.
They asked,
"Where were you?"
I lied.
"I was here only."
They told me to sit on the bike.
I was scared.
They took me to tuition.
Girls were passing by.
Laughing.
I stood there,
head down.
That day,
I got beaten at home.
After that,
I became normal again.
But strangely—
My bond with her became stronger.
I don't know why.
It just did.
One day in class,
she asked for my phone.
I froze.
The phone I used for chatting
was at home.
The phone I carried
was my mother's old phone—
only for calls.
I said,
"I don't have it right now."
She didn't say anything.
I thought everything was fine.
I was wrong again.
The Trip That Never Happened
Tuition announced a trip.
I was excited.
I thought— I'll take pictures with her.
I submitted the money.
But on the trip day—
My mother said no.
Her mood was already bad.
I went to my room
and cried silently.
The next day—still no.
Days passed.
Later, I found out—
The teacher had casually told my mother
that I wasn't studying properly.
I made the mistake of repeating it to her.
And that was it.
I stopped going to tuition.
That became my biggest regret.
Because if I hadn't told her—
Maybe that trip…
would've happened.
I messaged her.
I started with notes.
She refused—
the teacher had warned them not to share.
I said,
"Okay… not notes.
But you're still my friend, right?"
She replied—
"I don't want to keep friends....
That night,
I cried alone.
Not loudly.
Silently.
And Here… We Pause Again
Because after that message—
after that night—
Everything started slipping away.
The summer was ending.
School was about to begin.
And something precious
was already leaving my life.
After that night,
everything went quiet.
No more late-night chats.
No more shared snacks.
No more waiting for her messages.
Summer vacations ended.
School started.
My life turned into a straight line—
school to home,
home to school.
Nothing in between.
But even while walking those same roads every day,
my mind kept going back to her.
Eight Months of Silence
Eight months passed.
I didn't talk to her.
I didn't see her.
But I never forgot her.
Sometimes, while studying,
sometimes before sleeping,
sometimes for no reason at all—
She would suddenly appear in my thoughts.
I wanted to message her so many times.
But I didn't.
Because somewhere inside,
I knew—
If I texted her,
and she didn't reply…
That silence would hurt more
than not texting at all.
The Coincidence
Then came the time of final exams.
One day, while going to the exam center,
I saw her.
Same road.
Same direction.
Coincidence… or destiny, I don't know.
But this time,
we weren't alone.
There was a friend with her.
And a friend with me.
We crossed each other.
No smile.
No words.
Just passed.
After moving ahead,
I turned back.
She turned back too.
For a second,
our eyes met.
And in that one second—
Eight months disappeared.
I felt happy again.
One Last Hope
I told myself—
Let's talk once. Just once.
After exams, everything will be over anyway.
So one day,
I got ready properly.
I stood near a temple,
waiting.
She came.
I greeted her.
She greeted me back.
Then she went inside the temple
to take a tilak.
I waited outside, thinking—
When she comes back, I'll talk.
But then,
some girls from my class arrived.
They asked her to apply tilak for them too.
I couldn't say anything in front of them.
She finished,
looked at me,
and said—
"All the best."
And she left.
That was our last conversation.
There was one last exam left.
I bought a ring.
I don't know why.
I thought—
If I meet her, I'll give it to her.
But I didn't see her again.
So I gave the ring to my friend.
Because I knew—
It wasn't meant for her anymore.
School ended.
Our paths separated.
I thought—
This is it.
I'll never see her again.
Five Months Later
One evening,
I went to a fair with my family.
Crowds.
Lights.
Noise.
And then—
I saw her.
She was there.
But she wasn't alone.
A boy was holding her hand.
My eyes filled with tears.
I was with my family,
so I hid them.
She saw me.
She didn't smile.
She didn't react.
She just looked away.
And in that moment—
I understood.
She was never meant to be mine.
Acceptance
That day,
something inside me finally settled.
It hurt.
But it also felt complete.
Now when I remember her,
there's still a smile.
A soft one.
Not because she stayed—
but because she existed.
Because she was once a part of my life.
It's been
one year and eight months
since our last conversation.
Sometimes I still think—
Kash ek aakhri baar baat ho jaati.
But some stories
don't get a final conversation.
They just become memories.
And maybe…
That's how they're meant to stay.