THE UNFINISHED JOURNEY...!!💫❤️
Hyderabad had a pulse of its own—one that never slowed down for anyone. The scent of fresh dosas from street stalls, the rhythmic honking of autos, and the endless chatter of people chasing their dreams. It was in this city of chaos and ambition that Suhani and Rohan first crossed paths.
They weren’t meant to meet. But fate had other plans.
It was a breezy February evening. The streets near Charminar were buzzing, and Suhani was rushing through the crowd, balancing her bag and her phone while responding to emails.
That’s when it happened.
She stood near a bustling Irani café, wearing a navy blue chikankari kurti, her silver jhumkas swaying gently as she turned her head. A few glass bangles clinked softly on her wrist as she absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. But it was her eyes that held him for a moment—deep, thoughtful, carrying a quiet kind of intensity, as if she was lost in a world of her own.
When Suhani’s gaze lifted, she saw a man standing near a chai stall, dressed in a simple black cotton shirt with sleeves rolled up just enough to look effortless. He wasn’t someone who stood out in a crowd, yet there was something about him—a quiet presence, a kind face. His eyes were steady, observant but not intimidating, as if he was always thinking about something just beyond the conversation. His slightly ruffled hair and the way he stood, hands in pockets, made him seem both ordinary and yet… different.
For a brief second, their eyes met. And though neither of them smiled or spoke, something lingered in the air—unspoken, undefined, yet undeniably present.
A slight misstep, a collision, and suddenly, hot Irani chai spilled all over her kurti.
“Oh, great!” she groaned, looking up in frustration.
“Okay, that was my fault,” a voice admitted. A guy, dressed in a crisp black shirt and jeans, stood before her, holding an empty cup.
Suhani let out an exasperated sigh. “Wow. First, you spill chai on me. Second, you admit it. That’s—”
“Honest?” he offered, grinning.
She narrowed her eyes. “Annoying.”
Rohan smirked. “Well, that’s one way to look at it.”
And just like that, the first thread of their untitled bond was woven.
They met again. Not by choice, but by sheer coincidence.
This time, it was outside a bookstore at Banjara Hills. Suhani had just picked up a novel when she spotted someone familiar at the counter.
“You again?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
Rohan turned, his hands full with books. “Wow. Are you following me now?”
Suhani scoffed. “Right. Because my life’s mission is to track down the guy who ruined my favorite kurti.”
They ended up having a conversation that day—about books, about their careers, about why Hyderabad was both exhausting and enchanting.
Before they left, Rohan hesitated for a second before saying, “We should talk again sometime.”
Suhani, unsure why she agreed, simply nodded. “Sure. Why not?”
And just like that, numbers were exchanged. No expectations. No labels. Just an unspoken understanding.
Their conversations started like any other—casual, filled with jokes and sarcasm.
But soon, they turned into something more.
Late-night chats where Suhani talked about her struggles as a journalist, chasing deadlines, fighting for stories that mattered. Rohan shared his frustrations about his startup, the pressure of funding, the fear of failing.
They talked about family—Suhani’s parents constantly asking her when she’d “settle down,” and Rohan’s family never quite understanding why he wouldn’t take a safer job.
They talked about childhood dreams, about ambitions that scared them.
Some nights, there were long silences.
And somehow, even those silences felt enough.
They weren’t dating. They weren’t best friends. They were just… something.
Something that didn’t need a name.
One night, after a particularly exhausting day, Suhani dragged Rohan to a quiet street in Jubilee Hills.
“Ever danced on an empty road?” she asked.
Rohan frowned. “Why would I—?”
Before he could finish, she pulled him into the street and started twirling.
The streetlights flickered. The city hummed in the background. And for a moment, the world shrank to just them.
Rohan laughed. “This is crazy.”
Suhani grinned. “Crazy is good.”
And just like that, under a midnight sky, they danced.
Another time, during an unexpected rain shower, Rohan grabbed Suhani’s hand and pulled her onto the pavement.
“You sing?” he asked.
She smirked. “Depends. You dance?”
He rolled his eyes but joined her anyway.
That night, they sang at the top of their lungs, completely out of tune. People stared. Some laughed. But neither of them cared.
Because in that moment, they were just two people, lost in the joy of now.
One evening, after an exhausting week, they ended up at Osman Sagar Lake. The water shimmered under the moonlight, and the breeze carried the scent of wet earth.
Suhani leaned against the car, staring at the sky. “Do you ever feel like you’re waiting for something, but you don’t know what?”
Rohan, sitting on the hood, strumming his guitar absently, nodded. “Yeah. And I think that’s the problem.”
“What is?”
“Not knowing what we’re waiting for.”
For a second, the air between them felt different. But like always, before the moment could turn into something more, one of them changed the subject.
And just like that, they remained what they always were—something unnamed.
Then, life happened.
Suhani’s work took her to Mumbai, then Delhi. Rohan’s startup demanded all his time.
At first, they texted.
"Hyderabad feels weird without our random chai breaks."
"Come back, then. I’ll buy you biryani."
"Tempting. But deadlines don’t wait."
But slowly, the messages became fewer. Then they stopped altogether.
Two years later, at a wedding in Hyderabad, Suhani saw him again.
He looked the same, yet different. More confident. More… settled.
And that’s when it hit her.
She loved him.
She had always loved him, in a way that wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was just… there, woven into every late-night conversation, every untitled connection they had.
So, she told him.
And he said no.
“I don’t feel the same way,” Rohan had said, his voice careful.
She left Hyderabad the next morning, heart intact but something inside her shifting.
Rohan didn’t think much about that night. At least, not at first.
But then, he started noticing the absence.
He thought of texting her. But what would he even say?
Months passed. And then, fate did what it always did. It brought them back together.
Suhani was in Switzerland for a media summit. Rohan was there for a business meeting.
Neither expected to see the other at a small café in Zurich.
They stared at each other for a moment before laughing.
That night, they walked along the quiet, snow-covered streets, talking as if no time had passed.
At one point, Rohan stopped and turned to her. “I was an idiot.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Finally realized that, huh?”
He exhaled. “I love you.”
And for the first time, Suhani saw Rohan not as the boy she once knew, but as the man who had finally caught up with her heart.
She smiled. “Took you long enough.”
Switzerland had a way of making everything feel surreal. The snow-dusted streets, the distant chime of church bells, the way the cold air carried their laughter as they walked side by side.
It had been hours since their unexpected reunion, but neither of them wanted the night to end.
Suhani stopped near a bridge, leaning against the railing. Below, the river shimmered under the soft glow of city lights.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered.
Rohan exhaled, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. “Neither can I.”
A silence settled between them—not awkward, not uncertain. Just full. Full of everything left unsaid over the years.
Finally, Rohan turned to her.
“I made a mistake,” he admitted.
Suhani’s lips quirked. “One? Try a hundred.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah. But one was bigger than the rest.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And that was?”
Rohan took a deep breath. “Saying no to you.”
The world around them blurred—the people, the traffic, the city itself. In that moment, it was just the two of them, as it had always been.
“I thought I wasn’t in love with you,” Rohan continued. “I thought we were just… something without a name. But the truth is, I was afraid. Afraid that once I admitted it, you’d become something I couldn’t live without.”
Suhani felt her heart pounding, but she said nothing. She waited.
“I was wrong,” he whispered. “Because I already can’t live without you.”
Then, in the middle of that Swiss winter night, Rohan did something he never thought he would.
He got down on one knee.
No grand gestures. No rehearsed speech. Just raw honesty.
“Suhani, I don’t have a ring. I don’t have a perfect line. All I have is this—me, standing here, asking you to be my forever.”
She stared at him, emotions colliding inside her. The boy she had known. The man he had become. The love that had always existed between them, even when they refused to see it.
And then, she smiled.
“You’re late, Rohan.”
His heart sank. “Suhani, I—”
She pulled him up by his collar, eyes twinkling. “But I’ll wait for you. No matter how late you are.”
And just like that, they weren’t something unnamed anymore. They were everything.
Under the sky where our laughter once danced,
Through streets where our silence spoke,
Between years of distance and fleeting chance,
You were the name my heart always wrote.
Not a friend, nor just a lover,
Something more, something untold,
A bond that time could never smother,
A story in whispers, in moments of gold.
I found you in rain, in midnight streets,
In chai cups shared, in songs offbeat,
In temples prayed, in moonlit retreats,
In the echoes of footsteps that never missed a beat.
You were the question i never dared,the answer i always knew,
And now,as i stand with love laid bare,there's no doubt-it's you!!
Forever late,yet forever mine,
A story without an end in sight,
For love like ours needs no line,
Just a promise in the quiet night!!
Their story didn't have an ending,
Because love like theirs never truely ends.
It just continues.....
