Chapter 11: The Parallel Lines

The water of Dal Lake moved gently beneath the shikara.
The paddle dipped in and out with a soft rhythm, creating ripples that stretched outward and slowly disappeared. The evening light reflected on the surface, breaking into fragments with every movement.
Akash sat still—looking at the water, but not seeing it.

Because the present had started to blur.
And something older… clearer… had begun to return.

⏳ Fourteen years ago.

The college corridor had a different kind of noise.
Not silence like the mountains—but a constant hum of voices, footsteps, laughter, and unfinished conversations. The walls were slightly worn, the notice boards crowded with announcements, and the air carried the mixed scent of chalk dust and canteen food.
Akash walked through it all with quiet familiarity.
Second-year Statistics Honours. Known face. Predictable routine.

He wasn’t someone people noticed first.
And he was comfortable with that.

🎯 The game room was at the end of the corridor.
A place where time moved differently—louder, faster.

The sharp tick… tick… tick… of a table tennis ball echoed inside as he stepped in.
A small crowd had gathered—new faces, fresh energy.

“She’s new,” someone whispered nearby.
“First year… Geography.”

Akash didn’t pay much attention at first.
He walked in, planning to stand for a while, maybe play a round, then leave.

But then—the sound changed.

Faster.
Sharper.

His eyes moved toward the table.

And he saw her.

Depabali.

She stood on the opposite side of the table, holding the racket with an ease that didn’t look practiced—but natural. Her movements were quick, precise, almost instinctive.
A dark blue kurti, sleeves slightly folded, hair tied back loosely. A few strands had escaped, brushing against her face as she moved—but she didn’t notice.

Her focus was complete.
On the game. On the moment.

The ball moved rapidly across the table—back and forth, faster with each exchange.

Then—
A final shot.
Clean. Decisive.

Point over.

A small cheer rose from the group.

She smiled—just a little.
Not loudly. Not to impress.
Just… because she enjoyed it.

Akash stood still.

He didn’t move closer.
Didn’t say anything.
Didn’t even realize how long he had been watching.

It wasn’t love.
Not yet.

Just… attention.

Something about her presence didn’t blend into the crowd.
It stood apart—quietly.

“Next game?” someone asked her.

She nodded—simple, unbothered.

She didn’t look around much.
Didn’t search for faces.
Didn’t notice who was watching.

She didn’t notice him.

Akash leaned slightly against the wall.
Arms folded. Watching.

Not with urgency.
Not with intention.

Just… watching.

Because something about this moment felt different.

Outside, the corridor noise continued.
Life moved. Classes changed. Voices rose and faded.

But inside the game room—time slowed.

The ball kept moving.
The sound repeating.
Tick… tick… tick…

Akash didn’t join the game that day.

He stayed for a while—longer than he usually would.

Then quietly walked out.

No introduction.
No conversation.

Just a moment.

Unnoticed.

Unspoken.

But not forgotten.

🌊 Back in the present—the shikara moved forward slowly.
The ripples on the lake stretched and disappeared again.

Akash blinked.

The mountains returned.
The evening returned.
The silence returned.

But something had changed.

Because now—he remembered the beginning.

And how quietly it had started.

Like two lines—running side by side.

Close.

But never meeting.

❄️ To Be Continued…