It was pouring down, roads were clogged with water; cows were ambling down the road. People were cursing the government, sitting at home due to safety concerns.
Kushal hurried down the bustling street, his eyes scanning for an auto that could take him to the railway station. The clock was racing toward 9:20, and the Intercity Express would wait for no one. His shirt clung to him with nervous sweat, his phone buzzing every few minutes with reminders of the meeting scheduled at 11:30 a.m., a meeting that could not be missed. At last, he reached the station, stumbling out with quick steps.
On the opposite platform, a girl stood with her face covered by a yellow dupatta. Only her deep, kohl-lined eyes peeked through, holding a quiet intensity that drew every glance, waiting for her train, she prepared to head to college for her exam.
Even with the weight of urgency pressing on him, Kushal couldn’t resist the urge to catch a glimpse of that girl. Kushal finally reached the office and successfully wrapped up his meeting, securing a promising new project. The meeting had been unavoidable, a turning point he couldn’t afford to miss. He needed this opportunity desperately, his mother was battling cancer, and with his father no longer alive, the responsibility of the family rested solely on his shoulders. More than anything, he wanted to ease his mother’s suffering and give her the care she deserved.
When he arrived at the station the following day, it wasn’t the train he was waiting for, but the girl whose image lingered in his mind. That day marked the beginning of a love story. No matter what Kushal did; whether at the office, at home, cleaning, sitting quietly, or even helping his mother, his thoughts kept drifting back to the girl. Every moment, every breath, seemed to circle around her presence, as if she had quietly taken over his world.
As time passed, she too began noticing him. She would arrive at the station every day to catch her 9:25 train, and in those fleeting moments, their eyes often met. Minutes turned into hours, hours into weeks, and weeks into months, as an unspoken bond quietly grew between them.
Then, one day, summoning all his courage, Kushal finally stepped forward, walked up to the girl, and gently asked her name. Smiling with a hint of mischief in her eyes, she said, “Why don’t you tell me first?” Struggling to hide his blush, Kushal said softly, “I’m Kushal. I live near the station and work with an MNC as a content writer. She chuckled and said, “I just asked your name, not your full biography.”
Kushal realized that the ice was broken, and he could now talk to her more freely. Their conversation flowed with ease, filled with small smiles and shared glances. After a while, he gently asked her name again. She only smiled and shook her head, saying softly, “I’ll tell you when the time feels right.”
Kushal slowly began to change. He started learning new things like cooking, staying calm, listening patiently, and helping his mother more than ever before. It was as if meeting the new girl had awakened a gentler, more responsible side of him. His mother, watching these changes, felt immense joy. Seeing this new Kushal brought a smile to her face, a happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time.
One day, the girl reached the station early, holding a letter close to her heart. In it, she had written all her feelings for Kushal, ready to finally share them with him. But Kushal never came.
At that time, he was rushing to the hospital, his heart pounding with fear. His mother had suddenly fallen into pain, and nothing else mattered to him except being by her side.
The girl waited at the station for more than three hours, clutching the letter in her hand. Trains kept arriving and leaving, passengers came and went, but Kushal never appeared. Her heart sank with every passing minute, and finally, with heavy steps, she went back home.
The next day, both of them reached the station and finally met. Kushal, with worry still on his face, explained everything about his mother’s sudden illness and the hospital rush. She listened quietly, her eyes soft with understanding.
Just then, one of her friends hurried over and said breathlessly, “You need to come home right away. Your father has an urgent matter.” The girl’s face changed instantly, torn between staying and leaving, her unfinished words hanging in the air.
She turned back and said softly, “Kushal, come tomorrow at 9… I need to tell you something.”
The next day, Kushal came to the station at 9 o’clock with a bouquet and a chocolate. He waited the entire day, watching trains come and go, but she never arrived. He thought maybe she was stuck somewhere and would come the next day.
But even the next day she didn’t come. Still, Kushal kept returning at 9 every morning. Days turned into months, months into years, but She never came back.
This made Kushal pessimistic, tense, and deeply disappointed. His mother noticed the change in him—the silence, the lost look in his eyes, the way he avoided conversations. One day, unable to hold back, she gently asked, “What happened, beta? Why are you so upset?”
Kushal did not answer his mother. He just packed his bag and left for the station at 9. His mother decided to follow him. When she reached, she saw Kushal standing there with a bouquet in his hand. She understood that he came to the station every day.
His mother walked up to him, her voice heavy with concern. “Beta, what are you hiding? Why do you come to the station every day at 9?”
Kushal lowered his head. His throat tightened, and his eyes filled with tears. He had no answer—he didn’t even know the girl’s name. After a long silence, his voice broke as he whispered, “Because she said………