A Letter Delivered

"A letter! It has been five days, yet undelivered." Ayushi worried, biting her nails.

"What!! Don't say you sent it by post?" Aarav sighed, placing his palm on his forehead.

"Yes, I have," she admitted with a sheepish smile, making a puppy face.

"You are mad. Total mad," he huffed. "Remember last time how we drove all the way to that village just to inquire about a post? That noon, under the hottest sun?"

"But I love that way," she said, twirling the scarf in her hands.

"Pagli, you could have just given it to me! I would've dropped it off midway. And now, you’re dragging me again under today's sun," he groaned, looking up in fake anger.

"But a postman adds more charm. I’m completely from the 90s era," she grinned, handing him the Scooty keys.

"God! This address is only fifteen minutes away from where we are, and you sent a letter that takes five to six days to reach. My Suman from Maine Pyar Kiya—why don’t you just keep a pigeon and dance Kabootar Jaa Jaa Jaa?" he teased, ruffling her hair.

"I will," she winked. "When Aditya becomes my Prem."

Aarav let out a dramatic sigh. "I can't deny you, and you know it. I have tied the band of your friendship, na? Alright, Activa or Aviator? And cover your face with this scarf—the sun is burning."

"Activa," she answered, securing her scarf.

Aarav kick-started the Scooty, and she sat behind, adjusting her dupatta. As they sped down the road, he broke the silence.

"How much do you love him, yaar? Sometimes, I feel jealous."

Ayushi chuckled. "How much? I don’t know. But I love writing to death, and I love him a little more than I love words."

Aarav shook his head. "Is he a magician? I mean, you’re impossible to incarcerate by emotions, and yet—"

"I don’t know if he knows magic," she interrupted. "The only thing I know is that he is difficult to love, but it’s even more difficult not to love him." Her voice turned soft, a trace of longing in it.

Aarav glanced at her through the mirror and sighed. "Has he ever answered?"

"Answered?" She blinked.

"To your three magical words."

Ayushi laughed. "Is I love you a question to be answered? It’s just a simple sentence—subject, verb, object. Duffer, I only stated it, not expecting reciprocation."

Aarav smiled. "No one can win an argument with you. Wise and full of weirdness—but your weirdness makes sense. That’s what makes you different. Keep that madness alive."

She nodded, biting her tongue playfully.

"Achha, listen. I’m getting cold drinks. Yours is a Sprite, right?" he asked, parking the Scooty by the roadside, near the canal.

"Yes. Sprite can."

"Come with me then. Why stand here?"

"I’m fine here. You go," she replied, leaning against the railing.

"Alright. Five minutes." He left.

As he walked away, Ayushi smiled to herself, tracing the bridge's rusted edges with her fingers.

"Without a relationship, even, I feel complete. I am living my fairy tale, with all the commitment in my heart. No issue. Love happens at an unexpected time in this life. But if not this time, then in the next birth, he will be mine. Even his refusal feels beautiful."

A whisper of wind tangled her scarf. She looked at the road ahead, lost in her thoughts, when—

"Ayushi, move!" Aarav’s voice rang out, sharp, urgent.

She turned just in time to see him rushing toward her.

Her heart dropped.

A truck. Uncontrollable. Speeding. Close. Too close.

For a split second, time slowed. She wanted to step aside, but her feet were frozen. Her mind screamed, but her body didn’t move. And then—

A blinding collision.

Everything blurred.

The sound of screeching brakes, scattered screams, and metal crashing filled the air. Ayushi felt a force hurl her, weightless, suspended between sky and earth.

Then—silence.

Aarav stood there, motionless. Tearless. Voiceless.

He couldn't breathe. His limbs refused to move. The world around him faded, except for the sight of her broken body lying still on the road.

A phone rang.

The sharp chime jolted him back. He blinked, reality crashing in.

His trembling hands reached into her bag, pulling out the vibrating phone. Aditya.

His throat clenched. He pressed the answer button, his voice barely audible.

"Ayushi, I received your letter. Can we meet this evening?"

Silence.

Aarav swallowed, gripping the phone tighter. A wave of suffocation wrapped around his chest.

"Ayushi is no more."

A heavy silence followed.

From the other side, a sharp breath. A pause. And then—nothing.

The letter lay open on Aditya’s table. His eyes traced her last lines, written in delicate strokes, her love woven into ink.

"I’ll keep falling in love with you in every birth I take. Please, come once with the time of life to listen to what my heart speaks.

Yours always,

Ayushi."

A sudden gust of wind lifted the letter, making it flutter against the windowpane.

Aditya sat there, staring, unable to process, unable to move.

Somewhere far away, a postman’s bag carried an undelivered letter—one that would never reach its destination.

And the love written in ink remained unread, forever lost in time.