Unspoken Melodies

Episode 7: Through Silent Eyes

Arjun’s voice resonated through the small music studio, filling the air with raw passion and pain. The song he had written was a reflection of his journey, of the sacrifices he had made and the struggles he continued to endure. As the final notes faded, the producer nodded in approval, giving Arjun a small sense of accomplishment. His fame was growing, slowly but surely, and with it came the weight of expectations he could barely carry.

But amid his budding career, a void remained—a silent ache that refused to leave him. It was Diya.

Diya sat in the luxurious café with her friends, laughing at jokes that barely registered with her. The glossy world of privilege surrounded her, yet it felt suffocating. Her friends began discussing Arjun, their words laced with mockery.

“He’s talented, sure,” one of them sneered. “But he’s just another struggling artist. Diya, can you imagine being with someone like that?”

Diya’s stomach churned, but she forced a laugh to mask her discomfort. “He’s… ambitious,” she muttered, not meeting their eyes.

“Ambitious?” another chimed in. “That’s just a fancy word for broke.”

The words stung, but Diya remained silent, her pride holding her captive.

Later that evening, Arjun saw Diya walking with her friends, their laughter echoing through the college courtyard. She looked radiant, her smile lighting up the darkened campus. For a moment, he felt a surge of hope, until he noticed the way she avoided his gaze, pretending not to see him.

His chest tightened as he watched her leave. He felt invisible—reduced to a shadow in her life.

Back in his small room, Arjun sat by the window, his guitar resting on his lap. The notes he played were hollow, reflecting the emptiness he felt. He recalled the nights they had spent talking when she let down her walls and showed him her true self. Was it all just an illusion?

“I can’t keep doing this,” he whispered to himself, his voice cracking. “Loving someone who won’t even look at me.”

The next day, during a campus event, Arjun performed on stage. The crowd cheered, moved by the intensity of his performance. Diya stood in the back, her heart pounding as she watched him command the audience. For a moment, she saw the boy who had once made her laugh, the one who had shared his dreams with her under the starlit sky.

But as her friends whispered snide comments, she forced herself to look away.

After the performance, Arjun spotted Diya leaving with her group. Gathering his courage, he approached her.

“Diya,” he called out, his voice firm yet tinged with vulnerability.

She hesitated but turned to face him, her friends watching with raised eyebrows. “Arjun, I… I’m busy right now.”

“Just give me a moment,” he pleaded.

Her friends exchanged knowing looks and walked ahead, leaving them alone.

“Why are you doing this?” Arjun asked, his voice low but intense. “Pretending like I don’t exist?”

“It’s not like that,” Diya replied, avoiding his eyes.

“Then what is it?” he pressed. “Are you embarrassed by me?”

Her silence was answer enough.

Arjun felt his heart shatter, but he masked it with a bitter smile. “I thought you were different, Diya. I thought you’d see beyond this.” He gestured to his modest clothes, his guitar strapped across his back. “But maybe I was wrong.”

Before she could respond, he turned and walked away, his silhouette fading into the distance.

That night, Diya sat by her window, tears streaming down her face. Her world of privilege felt hollow, and the boy she had pushed away filled her thoughts. She hated herself for caring so much about what others thought, for letting her pride dictate her actions.

Meanwhile, Arjun poured his heartbreak into his music. He wrote a new song, one that captured his pain and his unwavering determination to succeed—not for anyone else but for himself.

“I’ll make them see,” he whispered to the empty room. “I’ll make her see.”