Spring of Dreams - Unspoken Bonds and Cracks

The next morning, Tanuja woke up after what felt like only a few moments of restless sleep. The weight of yesterday’s disappointment still pressed heavily on her, making the thought of facing the world unbearable. She decided to skip college, too drained to endure the pitiful looks and probing questions she knew would come her way. Her mother called her twice for breakfast, but Tanuja couldn’t bring herself to leave the cocoon of her room. She waited until she heard her father’s scooter rumble away before quietly emerging and heading to the kitchen.

Her mother, Priyambada, was already chopping vegetables with practised efficiency. “Aren’t you going to college?” she asked, barely glancing up. Tanuja shook her head, avoiding eye contact as she poured herself a glass of water.

Priyambada gave her a sharp look, sensing something was off. The tension was thick between them as she continued cutting the vegetables. Finally, in a firm tone, she asked, “Why not?”

Tanuja froze, her emotions too tangled to articulate. After a moment, she slumped into a chair at the dining table. “How can I?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Everyone will look at me with pity. The teachers will ask what went wrong, and my friends will pretend to console me while thinking I’m just a crammer who couldn’t land a job. I’m a loser, Mom. I can’t face them.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke, her words laden with self-doubt. “You wouldn’t understand,” she added, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “You’ve never been rejected.” Priyambada paused, her knife hovering above the cutting board. She set it down and walked over to Tanuja, pulling out a chair beside her. Gently, she patted Tanuja’s head. “You think I haven’t been rejected? Let me tell you something. Do you know how many times I was rejected when my marriage was being arranged?”

Tanuja looked up, surprised by the shift in her mother’s tone. “I was rejected over and over,” Priyambada continued, her voice steady but touched with the pain of old memories.

“Not because I wasn’t good enough, but because I didn’t fit some invisible standard. Every time, I was paraded in front of families, scrutinized like an object, and then dismissed without a word. I had friends, parents, and even the whole village judging me, wondering what was wrong with me. After each rejection, I’d fall into despair, not because they didn’t choose me, but because I knew I’d have to go through it all over again.”

Tanuja sat in silence, her mother’s story shifting something inside her. The pain she carried suddenly seemed lighter compared to her mother’s long-buried wounds. She realized rejection wasn’t a new pain; it was just another challenge in life’s long journey. Here was her mother, who had faced it time and again, still standing strong.

Without a word, Tanuja leaned into her mother’s embrace, tears flowing freely now. They held each other, finding solace in their shared pain. After a few moments, they pulled back, wiping each other’s tears. “Now, enough crying,” Priyambada said with a small, warm smile. “Help me make your favourite macha besara.”

A faint smile touched Tanuja’s lips for the first time that day. She nodded and joined her mother in the kitchen. The pain hadn’t vanished, but it had shifted, and in the familiar warmth of home, she found a flicker of hope, a small step toward healing.

As they cooked, the comforting aroma of frying fish filled the air. “What about Kavita?” Priyambada asked, breaking the silence. “How is she holding up?” Tanuja paused, realizing with a pang of guilt that she hadn’t checked on her friend. “She must be doing okay,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Anyway, she wasn’t that keen on the job. She’s more into singing now, even joined a Hindustani music class.”

Just then, the landline started ringing, its volume low. Priyambada frowned. “That phone’s been acting up all morning,” she muttered as the ringing cut off abruptly. “See? It got disconnected again. It’s been like this for years. I’ve told your father to replace it, but he keeps saying, ‘next month.’”

Tanuja’s heart skipped a beat. She knew exactly what that three-ring disconnection meant. Ayushman was trying to reach her. But she wasn’t ready to talk to him or anyone from college. She chose to ignore it, burying her anxiety under a forced calm.

Meanwhile, Ayushman was pacing his room, frustrated by the lack of response. After countless attempts to reach Tanuja, he finally gave up and began getting ready for college, hoping he might see her there. As he buttoned his shirt, his older brother, Abhijit, walked in and playfully tapped him on the back, handing him a crisp 1,000-rupee note. “Skip college today and have some fun,” Abhijit said with a grin. “Anyone from your group crack it?” Ayushman shook his head. “None.” “Kavita didn’t either?” Abhijit asked, his tone more serious now. “Nope. And Tanuja...” Ayushman’s voice trailed off as he shook his head again, the disappointment clear in his eyes.

Abhijit noticed the shift in his brother’s mood and offered some brotherly advice. “This is life, buddy. It keeps throwing surprises at you. Tanuja’s probably dealing with a storm of emotions right now. Give her some space and time to heal.” Ayushman nodded, appreciating his brother’s words, but the knot in his chest remained. He decided to join his friends for a distraction, though his thoughts were still with Tanuja.

Across the lane, Kavita was having her own tough morning. Her father was visibly upset as he sat at the breakfast table, flipping through the newspaper with a frown. “What’s the point of all those singing medals if you can’t even get a job?” he finally said, his voice sharp with disappointment. “You spend so much time on music, but where has it gotten you? Music won’t pay the bills, Kavita. That’s not how the world works.”

Kavita clenched her teeth, trying to hold back her frustration. Music was her lifeline, the one thing that made sense in her chaotic world. It brought her peace and joy, but to her father, it seemed like a frivolous pursuit that had cost her a stable future.

“I’m doing my best, Papa,” she replied, her voice strained. “I know I didn’t get the job, but that doesn’t mean I’ve failed. Music is my passion. It makes me happy, and it’s what I want to pursue.” The anger and hurt Kavita had been holding back surged to the surface. “You just don’t get it, do you?” she snapped, standing up from the table. “Music isn’t just a hobby for me; it’s my life. I can’t just give it up because it doesn’t fit into your idea of success.”

Before her father could respond, Kavita grabbed her bag and stormed out of the house. “I’m going to my music class,” she said curtly, skipping college without a second thought. She needed to escape, to find refuge in the one place that still felt right. The music class.

As Tanuja, Ayushman, and Kavita each navigated their turbulent emotions, a sense of unresolved tension hung in the air. Tanuja, lost in her thoughts, felt a flicker of determination begin to stir within her, even as doubt lingered. Despite his best efforts to distract himself, Ayushman couldn’t shake the feeling that something was slipping away. And Kavita, defiant but unsure, clung to her passion as a lifeline in a world that seemed to value everything else. Each of them stood at the brink of a decision, aware that whatever came next would shape not just their futures, but the very relationships they held dear. It had been a week since Tanuja last came to college. She hadn’t spoken to anyone, not even Ayushman, who was desperate to know how she was doing. Every missed call he left went unanswered, and it was driving him mad with worry. He spent the entire morning searching for Kavita, hoping she might have some news. Finally, he found her in the library, and she seemed determined not to make the first move.

“Did you hear anything from Tanuja?” Ayushman asked, his voice tinged with desperation.

Kavita looked up, her expression sardonic. “I’m doing well, thanks for asking. How about you?” She began packing her bag, clearly annoyed, while Ayushman stood there, staring at her like a hungry puppy. “What do you see in Tanuja, really?” Kavita continued, unable to hold back her frustration. “I’m her only friend, and she hasn’t even bothered to call me once. Not even to pick up my calls. And you, her boyfriend? She doesn’t even know if you got the job. Sure, she’s dealing with her parents’ expectations and her own rejection, but what about us? Has she ever thought about our problems? Everyone has their own issues, Ayushman. You can’t just shut down and push everyone away whenever things get tough. It feels like she only cares when it suits her. When she’s in a good mood, she’s all friendly, but when she’s upset, it’s like we don’t even exist. What a narcissist.”

Ayushman just stood there, absorbing Kavita’s words, his eyes still pleading with her. Seeing his expression, Kavita couldn’t help but smile, despite herself. “Fine, I’ll call her and check on her,” she relented. “But I’m doing it only because of you. Now, you owe me a samosa in the canteen.” Ayushman’s face lit up. “Forget samosas. I’ll buy you a cold coffee.”

As they walked to the canteen, they saw Tanuja sitting there from a distance. Kavita glanced at Ayushman and said, “You still owe me that cold coffee. I’ll leave you two alone. I don’t want to be the third wheel. But make sure she calls me, okay?” She waved at Tanuja from afar and left, giving Ayushman much-needed space. Tanuja looked up as Ayushman approached, managing a small smile. He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her. Both of them were at a loss for words as if the past week had stretched into years. Finally, Ayushman broke the silence. “Chai?” Tanuja shook her head. “I just had one. You go ahead.”

Ayushman ordered a chai for himself, then asked softly, “How are you? You haven’t been to college in a week.” Tanuja looked away, her voice subdued. “As if you don’t know why. I just came to pick up some books from the library. And... I was missing you.”

Ayushman blushed, a smile tugging at his lips. “I missed you, too. You left that day without saying a word. I’ve never seen you so upset. I’ve been going crazy not knowing how you were. Please don’t ever do that to me again. You have no idea how many times I’ve died inside. I even thought about coming to your house.”

“Thank God you didn’t,” Tanuja replied with a faint laugh. “I couldn’t have handled giving my father another shock.”

They both chuckled, the tension between them easing slightly. Tanuja reached across the table and took Ayushman’s hand. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling with sincerity. “I lost my mind. I kept thinking about how many times I’ll have to face rejection. I needed time to heal. But I never meant to hurt you. I love you, Ayushman. You’re my precious prize. After all these rejections, you’re the only good thing I have.”

Ayushman squeezed her hand gently. “Tanuja, you’re one of the hardest-working and smartest people I know. It’s the company’s loss if they didn’t select you. They have no idea what they’re missing out on. Trust me, companies will be lining up to hire you. In fact, I heard this morning that a big IT firm is coming to campus for placements soon.”

“Yes, I got a call from the HOD,” Tanuja said, her tone brightening slightly. “That’s why I came to the library to get some books. How’s your preparation coming along?” Ayushman hesitated, realizing she didn’t know about his placement. He smiled sheepishly. “I’m not allowed to attend this one. I got placed, remember?”

Tanuja’s grip on his hand tightened. Her eyes searched his face, trying to process her emotions. Should she be happy for him, proud that her boyfriend was among the top 5% of the college? Ashamed that she hadn’t known for a week, too lost in her own misery to notice? “I’m so sorry, Ayushman,” she said, her voice trembling with guilt. “I’ve been so caught up in my own head that I didn’t even ask you about your placement. I’m such a bad girlfriend... You’ve been there for me, worrying about how I’m doing, and I couldn’t even take a moment to check on you. ”

Her eyes filled with tears, but this time they were not just from her own pain. They were from the realization that she had neglected the person who mattered to her. “I’m, truly proud of you,” she continued, squeezing his hand. I promise I won’t shut you out again,” she whispered. “I just... I can’t believe I let myself get so lost that I forgot about you. I’m still trying to figure out where I went wrong. I mean, I’ve always been the one people expect to succeed. Maybe that’s why this is so hard for me.”

Alongside the shame, there was another emotion she couldn’t quite shake: jealousy. It gnawed at her quietly, a bitter reminder that while she, the top student, had faced rejection, Ayushman, who had always been more laid-back, an average student by comparison, had secured a job. It didn’t seem fair. She had always been the one who worked tirelessly, the one who everyone expected to succeed. And yet, here she was, struggling to find her footing while he had already crossed the finish line.

Tanuja hated herself for feeling this way. She loved Ayushman, and she wanted to be genuinely happy for him. But the jealousy lingered, feeding off her insecurities and making her question everything. What did I do wrong? Why wasn’t I good enough? The thoughts spiralled in her mind, tainting the pride she wanted to feel for him. Ayushman reached out and gently wiped away her tears. “Tanuja, it’s okay. I know you’ve been going through a lot. I didn’t want to add to your stress. But please don’t be so hard on yourself. We’ve both had a tough time. Water under the bridge.”

Ayushman could sense the undercurrent of jealousy in Tanuja’s demeanour, despite her best efforts to hide it. He understood that her pride and self-worth had taken a hit, and while she tried to be supportive, the sting of her rejection was still fresh. Holding her hand, he gently squeezed it, a silent gesture of reassurance. He knew that words wouldn’t ease the complex emotions she was battling, but he wanted her to know he was there for her, no matter what. As they sat together, the quiet between them was heavy with unspoken feelings, yet within that silence, they both made an unvoiced promise; to navigate these challenges together, even if it meant facing their own insecurities head-on.