I sat in my classroom, the usual hum of chatter and the scrape of chairs filling the air. My gaze wandered to the window, drawn to a scene outside that piqued my curiosity. A group of first-year students stood nervously in front of the HOD's office. They shifted awkwardly, glancing at the closed door as though it held their fate.
It was unusual to see anyone outside the HOD's office this early in the day, especially first-years. Classes had barely started for them—it had been less than a week. Trouble so soon? It had to be something serious.
My college isn't exactly forgiving when it comes to discipline. Attendance is sacred here, taken every hour without fail. Bunking is practically impossible unless you have a master plan—and even then, getting caught means you're done for. And the HOD doesn't summon students unless there's a real issue.
I studied the group through the window, trying to piece together what might have happened. There were four of them, but one girl caught my attention. She stood slightly apart, her arms loosely folded, her long hair flowing past her waist, swaying gently as the breeze played with it. She didn't fidget or whisper nervously like the others. Instead, she stood quietly, her face calm but distant, her deep, sad eyes staring at the ground as though lost in thought.
It was her name that jolted me. As the group exchanged hushed whispers, I caught a faint murmur: Thesika.
The name hit me like a flash of memory. I'd heard it before—at an interschool singing competition last year. Thesika. She was the girl who had stolen the show with her voice.
I leaned back in my chair, trying to piece it together. I couldn't recall her face clearly; it had been too long. But the name? That name was unforgettable. I remembered sitting in the audience, mesmerized as she sang. Her voice had been powerful yet hauntingly soft, like it carried every emotion in the world. The hall had fallen silent, completely entranced. She had won, of course—there was no competition once she started singing.
But now, watching this quiet girl outside the HOD's office, I wasn't sure it was the same person. Could it be? The name matched, but everything else didn't seem to fit. That girl on stage had been confident and commanding, her voice filling the room like a force of nature. This girl was composed but reserved, almost as if she wanted to disappear.
The door to the HOD's office creaked open, and the staff member gestured for them to enter. They hesitated for a moment before filing inside.
I tried to focus on the lecture as the professor finally arrived, but my thoughts kept drifting back to that name. Could this girl really be the same Thesika who had captivated an entire audience with her voice? Or was it just a coincidence?
The rest of the day passed in a blur. By lunchtime, rumors were already circulating. Some said the first-years had been caught breaking hostel rules, while others claimed it was about a fight between seniors and juniors. None of the stories seemed to add up.
As I walked to the canteen, I spotted one of the girls from the group sitting alone at a corner table. It was the petite one with glasses. She looked upset, picking at her food with little interest.
I hesitated for a moment before walking over. "Hey," I said, keeping my tone light. "Mind if I sit here?"
She looked up, startled, but nodded.
"I'm Aakash, second year, Computer Science," I introduced myself, pulling out a chair. "I couldn't help but notice you and your friends outside the HOD's office this morning. Everything okay?"
She sighed, clearly reluctant to talk but too tired to brush me off. "I'm Priya. First year, Electronics and Communication," she replied softly. "It's... complicated. We got into trouble for something we didn't even do."
"What happened?" I asked, genuinely curious.
She glanced around, lowering her voice. "There was a misunderstanding during orientation. One of the seniors accused us of being rude because we didn't follow some tradition they expected us to know about. But we weren't being rude—we just didn't know! The HOD called us to sort it out."
"That sounds unfair," I said. "Did he at least hear your side of the story?"
She nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, but it's hard to change his mind once he's made it. Luckily, Thesika explained everything. She's good with words, and I think that helped."
The mention of her name again made me sit up. "Thesika," I repeated. "She's the one with long hair, right?"
Priya nodded, a small smile breaking through her frustration. "Yeah. She's quiet, but when she speaks, people listen. She's amazing, really. I'm lucky to have her as a friend."
I hesitated, then asked casually, "Does she... sing? Like, really well?"
Priya gave me a puzzled look. "Sing? I mean, I've never heard her sing. Why?"
I shook my head, brushing it off. "No reason. Just curious."
But inside, my mind was racing. If this was the same Thesika, why didn't anyone here know about her talent? Was she deliberately keeping it hidden? Why?
Over the next few days, I found myself watching for her in the hallways, trying to find an opportunity to talk to her. I wanted to know if she was the same girl from the competition, to ask why she stayed so quiet about her talent.
Eventually, I would get my chance. But for now, the mystery of Thesika lingered in my mind, drawing me in more than I cared to admit.