Episode 1: A Shiny Day, A Silent Goodbye
982 Words
Morning sunlight slipped gently through the curtains, filling the small house with a soft golden glow. It was one of those rare mornings that felt too calm… almost as if the world was trying to hide something behind its brightness.
In the kitchen, the quiet clinking of utensils echoed.
Meera Sharma stood near the stove, stirring tea that had already been ready for a while.
Her hands were steady.
Her face carried a soft smile.
But her eyes…
They told a different story.
A thin layer of tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them away quickly. Almost stubbornly.
Not today.
She wouldn’t cry today.
Not when her daughter was about to leave to chase her dreams.
She wiped her eyes with the edge of her saree, took a deep breath, and called out in her usual warm tone—
“Aarohi! Your tea is getting cold, come quickly!”
In the next room, everything was the complete opposite.
Clothes were scattered across the bed, half-folded and half-forgotten. A suitcase lay open, barely able to hold Aarohi’s entire world.
And in the middle of it—
stood Aarohi Sharma.
Her hair was messy, a strand falling over her face, as she held two completely different outfits and frowned at them.
“Should I take this… or this? Mom will say take both… but there’s no space!”
She tossed one inside anyway.
Because that’s who she was—
a little confused, a little dramatic, but always full of life.
Her eyes sparkled with excitement.
A new city. A new beginning. A life she had always dreamed of.
But somewhere, deep inside…
there was a quiet nervousness she refused to acknowledge.
“Aarohi!”
Her mother called again, softer this time.
“Coming!” she replied, quickly zipping her bag halfway and rushing out.
The moment she stepped into the kitchen, she paused.
There was something about her mother…
the way she stood a little too still, a little too composed.
Aarohi narrowed her eyes playfully.
“Mom…”
Meera turned instantly, her smile perfectly in place.
“Yes, what happened? Why are you staring at me like that?”
Aarohi walked closer, studying her face.
“You were crying, weren’t you?”
Meera didn’t hesitate.
“Of course not. Why would I cry?”
Aarohi crossed her arms.
“Don’t lie to me. I can always tell.”
For a moment—
just a moment—
Meera’s expression softened.
But she quickly tapped Aarohi’s forehead lightly.
“Stop being dramatic and drink your tea. You’ll miss your train.”
Aarohi smiled… but didn’t move.
Instead, she stepped forward and hugged her mother.
Tightly.
Without warning.
Meera froze for a second.
Then slowly… her hands came up, holding her daughter close.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The kitchen, the sunlight, the ticking clock—
everything faded away.
“Mom…” Aarohi’s voice was softer now, almost like a child’s.
“Yes, beta…”
“Will I be okay?”
That simple question…
broke something inside Meera.
But she didn’t let it show.
She pulled back slightly, cupping Aarohi’s face.
“You’re the strongest person I know. Nothing will happen to you.”
“And you?” Aarohi asked quietly.
Meera smiled.
“I’ll be right here… always.”
Aarohi nodded, forcing a small smile.
Time moved faster than they wanted.
An hour later, the house already felt emptier.
The suitcase was packed.
The room was quiet.
And the air felt heavier.
At the door, Aarohi adjusted her bag, trying to act normal.
“Ticket, ID, phone… everything’s there,” she murmured.
Meera stood there, watching her closely—memorizing everything.
The way she moved.
The way she spoke.
The way she existed in this home.
Because she knew…
once Aarohi left, something would leave with her too.
“Shall we go?” Aarohi asked, looking up.
Meera nodded.
But before moving, she stepped forward and gently fixed a loose strand of Aarohi’s hair.
A small, unnecessary gesture.
But filled with everything she couldn’t say.
“Take care of yourself,” she whispered.
Aarohi smiled softly.
“You too, Mom.”
The railway station was loud.
Announcements echoed, people rushed, footsteps filled the air—
everything felt too chaotic for such a quiet goodbye.
The train stood ready.
So was destiny.
“Call me regularly,” Meera said.
“I will.”
“Eat properly.”
“I will.”
“Don’t trust people too easily.”
Aarohi smiled faintly.
“I’ll try…”
Meera didn’t reply.
Because she knew—
sometimes, trust is what hurts the most.
The final announcement echoed.
It was time.
Aarohi picked up her bag.
But her feet didn’t move.
Instead, she turned—
and hugged her mother again.
This time tighter.
Longer.
As if trying to hold onto something slipping away.
Meera’s hands trembled slightly as she held her back.
Her eyes filled with tears—
but she looked up, forcing them away.
Not now.
Not in front of her.
“Don’t cry,” Aarohi whispered.
Meera let out a small, shaky laugh.
“Go now… or I really will start crying.”
Aarohi smiled through her tears.
“Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, beta.”
And then—
she left.
Meera stood there, watching until Aarohi disappeared into the crowd.
Until she couldn’t see her anymore.
Until the train started moving.
Until the distance became real.
Only then—
her strength broke.
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
Followed by another.
Inside the train, Aarohi sat by the window.
Her reflection stared back at her—
smiling… but not quite.
She placed her hand on the glass, watching her mother grow smaller and smaller.
And whispered softly—
“I’ll be okay, Mom…”
Outside, the sun still shined brightly.
As if nothing had changed.
But for two hearts—
everything had.
- Writer
