Chapter 2 – Shadows of Expectations
The morning after the rain felt heavier than usual. The lane in front of Kabir’s house glistened with damp patches where puddles had not yet dried. A group of children splashed through them, shouting and laughing, their voices echoing between the narrow walls of the neighborhood. From his veranda, Kabir watched absentmindedly, his notebook resting open but empty on his lap.
Across the street, Meera’s house was alive with unusual commotion. Bright sarees hung from the balcony railing, women moved in and out carrying trays of sweets, and the sound of laughter mingled with the clinking of bangles and utensils. The faint notes of a shehnai record played from inside, old and crackling, yet festive.
Relatives had been arriving for days now. Some came with suitcases, others with only their voices and opinions. The entire neighborhood had begun whispering. Everyone knew what such bustle meant.
Marriage.
Kabir gripped his pen tighter. A knot formed in his throat each time he heard the word float across the lane, spoken by gossiping neighbors or proud relatives. He tried to tell himself it was inevitable—Meera was twenty-one, beautiful, kind, the pride of her family. Her marriage had always been a matter of when, not if. And yet, the thought of her laughter belonging to another man felt like a blade pressed against his ribs.
That afternoon, Meera found a moment to slip away from the crowd. She crossed the lane, her dupatta drawn hastily around her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed with the energy of the gathering, her anklets chiming softly with each step.
Kabir stood as she entered, brushing the dust from his notebook as though he had been busy all along.
“You’re hiding again,” she teased, lowering herself into his old wooden chair without asking. “Whenever people are around, you vanish like smoke.”
“I’m not very good with crowds,” Kabir admitted.
“You’re not very good with people, full stop,” she said, laughing. “One day, you’ll have to face them. You can’t spend your whole life writing letters to no one.”
Kabir’s heart skipped, but he forced a smile. If only she knew how much truth was buried in her casual words.
She glanced around, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “They’re talking about alliances inside. I feel like I’m on display, like some prize in a shop window. Aunties are whispering, uncles are nodding, Amma is beaming. It’s suffocating.”
Kabir’s chest tightened. He wanted to shout, Say no. Tell them you don’t want this. Tell them you— But the words stayed trapped. He swallowed them, as always.
Instead, he asked gently, “And what do you want?”
Meera looked out the window for a moment, her expression softer than he had ever seen it. “Something simple. A life where I can laugh without pretending. Someone who listens. Someone who makes me feel… safe.”
Her words cut him in two. He was that someone—he always had been. But she didn’t see it. Or maybe he had hidden it too well, burying every confession beneath ink and paper.
Meera sighed and stood. “Anyway, I should go before they send a search party for me. Don’t disappear completely, Kabir. I need at least one sane person around.”
And then she was gone, leaving the faint scent of jasmine and the echo of her anklets in the room.
Kabir sat frozen for a long while, staring at the empty chair she had occupied. His pen trembled in his hand as he opened his notebook again. Words spilled out in hurried strokes, raw and desperate:
“You say you want someone who listens, someone who makes you feel safe. Meera, haven’t I always been that? Haven’t I always been waiting here in silence while the world asks you to smile for others? But I know my place. I know I will remain the friend you run to when you’re tired, the one you trust with everything except your heart. And still, I cannot stop loving you.”
When he finished, his hands were shaking. He folded the page carefully, slipping it into an envelope, then into the wooden box beneath his bed. The box creaked under its growing weight, as though it, too, was burdened by the words it carried.
That evening, as lights flickered on across the lane, Kabir stood at his window. He saw Meera laughing with her cousins, her parents watching proudly from the veranda. For a moment, she turned her head and caught his gaze. She smiled warmly, innocently, and lifted her hand in greeting.
Kabir raised his hand in return, his throat tight.
She didn’t know that the shadow of expectation was already pulling her away from him.
And he didn’t know how much longer he could bear the silence.
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End of Chapter 2
