Dhruv, as he understood the gravity of situation sat quietly while his mind was flooded with images and flashbacks from his past. He cried, unable to hold it in; every tear tracing down his face holding a piece of regret. A moment passed, then he inhaled deeply and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He had something to do, something that he must not leave undone..
Standing, he took one last glance at the room that had just borne witness to his emotions and made his way towards his grandmother's room. The door was partly open, as if keeping the slightest crack for him, a silent overture. He had not crossed her threshold since her death; her faint scent of sandalwood and old books lingered in the air.
Then, as he entered, a rush of memories swept over him. He could recall sitting beside her listening to the things she talked about, threads in hand knitting away while pausing every few minutes and all he saw were her loving, wise eyes. It was like a time capsule room: trinkets and mementos of her life surrounded me—her books piled high next to the bed, the blanket she knitted herself tucked in precisely, reading glasses placed on top of an opened book.
He approached her nightstand, shaking a little. He was looking for something in particular, and he hadnamanagee so much as said it out loud to himself. As he started to dig the drawer, sifting through items he knew by heart, his fingers brushed over something small and fabric-clad but well worn—another diary. This was it, her notebook from the years past with all her thoughts and letters and reflections.
The first page was decorated with her swirling, delicate handwriting.
"To my Chintu (my little light), may this be your compass when I'm gone.
Dhruv read the words slowly, letting each line sink into him like water into parched ground. The graceful penmanship of his grandmother's hand, which he had just the day before realized he'd so longed to see again, soothed him and made him feel as though a whisper were speaking directly into his heart, and with each line that he read, a burden grew less heavy.
A sans purposeful life can also be lived the biggest thing is how are you leading your life Chintu — (introspective).."
His confusion, that constant haze of what am I doing, or Where are we going? or What do you want me to be was cut through by those words. She was reassuring him that he could ravel through life without feeling like he had to have the answer. That maybe he could give up the search for something bigger or perfect and just live.
"You don't know your passion or whatever it is... You can be passionate about something, you can loose that too..."
It was an ache to feel how much he had linked himself to purpose and knowing what he was somehow "meant" to do. He had always felt as though he were lagging, that everyone else was thriving at life and he just needed to catch up. But she was representing to him that it was all right to wander and roam, to float unattached without needing a destination.
"And just keep in mind, in this rat race you don't have to run... You need a life..."
Those words seemed to take all tension out of his body. When everyone else told him to run faster, chase more, compete harder — she was telling him the opposite: Back off from the rat race. Live in a world without competition and comparison. There was no one for him to keep up with: he just had to live in a way that made sense to him.
"It's up to you whether your life is interesting or boring..."
He unclenched — she had opened a door inside him, like light breaking into somewhere else dark. He figured he would find happiness within himself once he "figured it out," but she was telling him it already existed, and only needed to be unlocked. He started his life doubting if it would mean anything and discover that he never needed some grand purpose or a perfect path outlined to create a meaningful life. Every day, the little things, it was his choice.
"Do not be good or perfect, Be kind and be someone who enjoy even little things in his life"
He remembered all the trifles he had ignored — light through foliage, a hot cup of tea in winter, laughter with friends. He had lost sight of the ordinary beauty in his quest to find the extraordinary. His grandmother had always known it, she had seen it. And now she was using her words to lead him back there.
When you receive this journal, I hope that you will comprehend what im speaking of..."
Dhruv shut his eyes and the words sank in him. As if she knew he would eventually find himself at this point, this moment of feeling lost and that she left that little nudge as parting gift to guide him back home.
He breathed shakily and scanned her room again. This was not the room where her quiet wisdom resided anymore. This had become a room of transformation. Those were his words, a reminder, an unexpected path — but one he felt ready to step onto.
Dhruv closed the diary and hugged it to himself. A silent determination blossomed in his heart. It meant that he didnt need to have it all together, and he also didnt have to be anyone other than who he is which spaciously allowed him to be more human.He just needed to live with kindness, curiosity, and an appreciation for life's small wonders.
For the first time in a long while, he felt truly... at peace.
The memory unfolded vividly, like a scene from a distant dream—yet, somehow, it felt achingly real. Dhruv saw himself as a younger version, filled with that spark of innocence and hope. He was standing beside two other figures, one boy and one girl, but their faces were blurred, just out of reach in his mind, like a hazy dream.
They were somewhere familiar—maybe a quiet spot on campus where they'd often escape to, away from the noise of classes and assignments, where they could just be themselves. He could almost feel the warmth of the sun on his face, the gentle breeze carrying laughter, as the three of them huddled together, hands joined in a circle.
They were smiling, bright and unburdened by the weight of tomorrow, filled only with the trust they had in one another. And then, he heard their voices, clear as a bell, echoing around him.
"Even if we are very distant apart after completing this college…"
They paused, looking at each other with solemn eyes and small smiles. The words were spoken with such a simple, childlike honesty, the kind only shared between those who believe they'll never truly be separated.
"Don't forget that if one of us has any problems with anything, just remember that even from far away, we're here."
The promise settled over them, a vow etched in their young hearts—a reminder of a bond they believed would withstand time and distance. And as the memory continued to play out, the three of them broke into laughter, leaning into one another, held together by the joy of that moment, unaware of what the future held.
But now, standing in his grandmother's room, the promise felt like a small, forgotten light rekindling in the dark. Those friends, wherever they were, had once meant the world to him. And even though time and life had pushed them apart, the memory of their bond was still alive, waiting to remind him that he was never alone—not really.
Dhruv's heart ached with longing and gratitude, a bittersweet sense of all the things he had cherished and left behind. He realized he still carried that promise, deep within, as if it had waited all this time for him to remember.
He looked down at his grandmother's diary, clutching it close. Her words and this memory felt connected somehow, a gentle reminder that the love we hold, the connections we forge, remain with us. Even in the darkest times, they wait quietly, ready to guide us back when we need them most.
As Dhruv stood in his grandmother's room, the weight of realization settled over him like a warm embrace. Her words, the faded ink on those delicate pages, had somehow breathed life into his own spirit. He finally understood—understood her gentle wisdom, the depth of her love, and the freedom she'd wished for him. She had always wanted him to live life on his own terms, to cherish each moment, to find beauty in even the smallest things.
With a deep breath, Dhruv looked around the room that had held so much of her presence. The walls, the faint scent of her favorite incense, the fragile light that danced through the window—all of it felt sacred, as if the very room was alive with her spirit, her hope, her blessing.
And then, as if nature itself were in tune with his newfound clarity, the first rays of dawn broke through the night. The soft, golden light crept through the doorway, spilling into the room and bathing everything in a gentle, radiant warmth. It was as if the sun itself had come to witness this moment of transformation, casting away shadows and illuminating his path forward.
Dhruv stood there, eyes glistening, as the sunlight wrapped around him like a silent promise. He could feel it—a quiet resolve forming within him, a clear purpose that he hadn't felt in so long. His heart beat with a newfound strength, not weighed down by regret or indecision, but uplifted by a simple yet profound understanding: he would use these remaining days with intention, with love, with a courage that honored both his grandmother's memory and his own journey.
He didn't need all the answers right now; he didn't have to know exactly where each step would lead him. But he did know that whatever he did, he would do it fully, embracing every experience, savoring every joy, and learning from every challenge. Life didn't have to be a perfect masterpiece; it simply had to be lived.
With one last glance at the diary, Dhruv nodded to himself. He had his direction, his purpose, and a heart ready to face whatever lay ahead. And as he turned to leave, he felt the sunlight follow him, casting his shadow softly against the walls—a quiet witness to his first step forward.
This was his moment of rebirth, his own dawn. The world outside awaited him, and for the first time in a long time, Dhruv was ready to meet it with open arms.
He got up and he checked his pockets. There was something....It was a wedding card.. It was written as... Dev Weds Maya
A memory flashed before his eyes again....
The scene changed to a side of street sitting in a bench covering his face with a mask looking at the sky and admiring it's beauty...
Two women was passing by in that street side..
One of the women said."So you're finally getting married Maya??"
The Maya replied. "Yeah... "
The women said. "Congratulation"
Maya replied. "Thank you! "
They walked away not noticing him...
He smiled at her without getting noticed and he said in his mind. "It's been 5 years after I last saw her... And she is still has that pure smile in her cheeks like back then I am glad I am so glad for you my donkey. "
He got up from the bench and started walking opposite side as he walked he whispered. "Congratulation"
"So where do you want to go next?
Suddenly Gorgo came to the room and asked.
Dhruv looked at him for a moment and said
"Home.."
- TO BE CONTINUED