Chapter 5 Meera Tries To Forget
649 Words
Singapore mornings were supposed to feel fresh, bright, and full of possibilities.
But for Meera, they felt like someone had wrapped her heart in bubble wrap and tightened it too much.
She sat at the breakfast table poking her cereal like it was her enemy.
Her mother sighed.
“Meera… it’s been a week. Eat something.”
Meera crossed her arms.
“I don’t like this cereal.”
“It’s chocolate.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“This is the sixth brand you ‘don’t like’.”
“Then stop buying cereals.”
Her father muttered from behind the newspaper,
“She’s becoming dramatic… just like her mother.”
Meera’s mother shot him a look that could melt iron.
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At School – Chapter of Disaster
Meera walked into class with the expression of someone attending a funeral.
The kids were playing a game she didn’t understand.
Someone shouted,
“Come play, Meera!”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Why?”
She looked down.
“Because… no reason.”
But there was a reason.
Everything here felt too new.
Too shiny.
Too perfect.
She missed the messy terrace.
She missed chalk dust.
She missed familiar voices.
…
She missed Arjun.
Every time she closed her eyes, she remembered him defending his crooked sun like it was the most important artwork in the world.
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The Art Class Incident
The art teacher, Ms. Clara, gave an assignment:
“Children, draw someone or something you miss!”
Meera’s heart skipped.
She took a fresh sheet of paper.
Her hand moved slowly.
First a terrace railing.
Then clouds.
Then two stick figures.
One with short hair.
One with a ponytail.
She hesitated… then drew a tiny heart between them.
Ms. Clara stopped behind her.
“Oh! Who is this boy?”
Meera jumped like she’d been electrocuted.
“N-Nobody!”
Ms. Clara giggled.
“Is he your friend?”
Meera nodded shyly.
“A special friend?”
Meera blinked rapidly.
“Why are adults like this?”
The teacher laughed even harder.
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Lunch Drama
Meera opened her tiffin—idlis.
The smell instantly reminded her of the morning she told her mother she didn’t want breakfast.
Suddenly she pictured Arjun poking idlis with a spoon.
A tiny smile escaped her.
“Why are you smiling?” a girl asked.
Meera shook her head.
“No reason.”
But the memory warmed her like sunlight through a window.
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Evening – The Photo Box
Her mother was sorting through unpacked boxes when she found a small pink one decorated with stickers.
“Meera!” she called. “Come here!”
Meera ran over.
Inside the box were:
Her old hair clips
A broken crayon
A tiny stone she thought looked like a heart
And a torn page with a doodle of clouds and two stick figures
Meera’s breath caught.
It was the drawing she had made with Arjun.
She sat on the floor, hugging the box close to her chest.
Her mother rubbed her back.
“Do you want to talk about him?”
“No…” Meera whispered.
“But I don’t want to forget him either.”
Her mother kissed the top of her head.
“You won’t.”
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Night – The Realisation
Meera lay in bed holding the doodle.
She whispered softly:
“Arjun… you said you’ll draw with me tomorrow.
And I left before tomorrow came.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“I hope you don’t hate me.”
She closed her eyes.
In another country, under a completely different sky, Arjun was also lying in bed, staring at a letter he couldn’t send.
Both children fell asleep the same way—
Missing each other.
Thinking of clouds they once drew.
Holding onto memories as if they were alive.
Destiny quietly watched them from a distance…
and smiled.
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- Writer
