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The sun had barely risen, casting a gentle glow across the small town of Nainital, where the early morning mist clung to the hills like a forgotten memory. The air was crisp and cool, filled with the scent of pine and the earthy musk of damp soil. It had been years since Aditi last stepped foot in this place—her childhood home, the place where her entire life had once unfolded. But today, she was back.
She sat quietly in the back seat of the cab, her fingers nervously playing with the strap of her bag. The roads leading to her father’s house were familiar, yet strange. It felt as though they hadn’t changed in all these years, and yet the weight of time-pressed heavily upon her chest. Aditi hadn’t spoken to her brother, Rohan, in almost eight years. Their falling out had been sudden, sharp, and painful—like a knife that neither of them had been willing to pull out, let alone heal.
They had been close once, growing up inseparable. The world had seemed small when they were together, their bond an unbreakable force against anything life threw at them. But that was before—before the arguments, before the silence, before the deep chasm of resentment that had slowly grown between them.
As the cab approached her father’s house, Aditi’s heart pounded harder. The old iron gate creaked as she pushed it open, and the sight of the faded white house standing in the middle of a once lush garden made her chest tighten with a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. Her father had died a week ago, and now, she and Rohan had been left to deal with the remnants of his life—the house, the estate, and the memories that still lingered within its walls.
The front door was unlocked, as she had expected. Rohan was already inside. She paused on the threshold, inhaling deeply before stepping into the quiet house. The smell of old wood and dust filled her senses, along with something else—something familiar, like the ghost of her childhood. Her footsteps echoed softly as she made her way to the living room, where she found him.
Rohan stood by the window, staring out at the garden that their father had once taken such pride in. He looked older, his hair tinged with gray at the temples, his face hardened by the years that had passed. He didn’t turn when she entered, but she knew he had heard her.
“Hi,” she said quietly, the word barely breaking the silence.
Rohan’s shoulders tensed slightly, but he didn’t respond. Aditi swallowed hard, the weight of everything left unsaid between them filling the room. She moved to stand on the opposite side of the room, the distance between them feeling both physical and emotional.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. The house felt like a tomb, filled with the ghosts of their shared past, the happy childhood they had once known. Aditi’s mind wandered back to the last time she had spoken to Rohan, to the argument that had torn them apart. It had been about their mother, or more accurately, her death. Rohan had blamed her for not being there, for moving away to chase her career while their mother was sick. And Aditi—she had never forgiven him for the accusation.( To be continued)
Rajat chandra sarmah
Guwahati , Assam , India
10/10/2024
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