Push and Pull

The weeks following their impromptu coffee date passed by quickly. Sidharth and Amritha didn't see each other much—each caught up in the whirlwind of preparing for college, saying goodbyes to friends, and managing the looming pressure of what was to come. But even amidst the chaos, something lingered from their conversation at the café. They had exchanged phone numbers that day, and their occasional messages were enough to keep a small connection alive.

Sidharth, as always, was in touch with everyone. He was the guy who could make friends with anyone, and his friends often teased him for being so open and affectionate. They saw his sunny disposition as a strength, something that made him the go-to guy for advice, for encouragement, and for those moments when life felt overwhelming. His friends joked that he believed love was the answer to everything. And maybe they weren't entirely wrong.

But Sidharth had been thinking about his conversation with Amritha ever since that day. Her thoughts on love, the way she spoke about relationships with such calm realism, had planted a seed of doubt in him. It wasn't that he was questioning his own beliefs—he still believed in the kind of love Kal Ho Naa Ho depicted, the kind of love that sweeps you off your feet and makes you want to live every day like it's your last. But Amritha's perspective made him realize there was more to love than just the fairy tale. There was loss. There was growth. There were mistakes and heartbreak.

On a rainy afternoon in August, Sidharth found himself texting Amritha again.

Sidharth: Hey, it's been a while. How's college prep going?

Amritha's reply came a few hours later, just as Sidharth was starting to think she might be too busy to respond.

Amritha's POV

August rain drums steadily against Amritha's apartment window, the sky a muted gray. Her phone buzzes on the coffee table, a notification from Sidharth. She hesitates for a moment before picking up the phone and unlocking the screen.

Amritha reads his message, the casual tone sending a small pang of familiarity through her. She hadn't expected to hear from him today, but there it was—a simple question, pulling her back into their easy rhythm. She sets her cup down, fingers hovering over the screen as she types.

Amritha: Busy, but good. So much to do, you know how it is. How about you?

A few hours passed. Amritha had almost forgotten about the message when it buzzes again. She picks it up to find Sidharth's reply.

Sidharth: Same here. Just thinking about all the changes coming up. College. Life. All that stuff.

Amritha smiles softly, a familiar feeling settling in her chest. She didn't expect a deep conversation, but there was always something about Sidharth that made her feel like their chats were never entirely surface level. She taps out her response.

Amritha: I know, right? It's like everything's about to change. It's a little scary, honestly.

There's a brief pause. Then, she notices the rain beginning to taper off, the sky shifting into something warmer as the sun peeks through the clouds. She wonders for a moment if it's the weather or the conversation that's making her feel a little more vulnerable.

Sidharth: Yeah, it's scary. But I guess... that's kind of the point, isn't it? Living in the moment, loving what you have now, because tomorrow isn't guaranteed.

Amritha glances at the window, the light now casting long shadows across the room. The warmth of the sunset seems to stretch across the whole space, almost too bright for the muted sky. She thinks for a moment before typing, her fingers moving slowly, carefully, wanting to say just the right thing.

Amritha: I think you've been watching Kal Ho Naa Ho too much. You're starting to sound like Aman.

Sidharth's messages often reminded her of the way the movie made him feel, like everything was tied to this grand, sweeping kind of love. She didn't necessarily disagree with him, but... the idea of love as this overwhelming force had never quite fit her own experience. She'd always believed in love, but in the quiet, imperfect ways it showed up.

Sidharth: Guilty. But, honestly, I think it's a good way to look at things. What's the point of waiting for the future if we don't live today?

There was a pause before Amritha replied, the words feeling heavy with a thought she'd carried for a long time.

Amritha: I don't disagree with you. I think... maybe I just have a different way of looking at it. For me, it's not about living for tomorrow, it's about living for today—and accepting that some things won't always go as planned. Maybe it's not always about the perfect ending, you know?

She takes a deep breath as she presses "send," not knowing what his response will be, but knowing she couldn't keep pretending that life was always about chasing after perfect moments. She wonders if he'll understand, or if he'll push back against it. But that's part of what's always drawn her to him—the way he could challenge her thinking, while making her feel safe in it.

The message sits in her inbox for a moment, her eyes flicking over the words. There's no immediate reply from him. Maybe he's thinking it through, or maybe he's moved on to something else.

The silence lingered between them for a moment. Amritha could almost feel Sidharth processing her words on the other side of the screen, trying to match his sunny optimism with her more tempered realism.

Then, the phone buzzed again.

Sidharth: Maybe we'll never agree on this, huh?

Amritha smiled at the screen. She didn't think they would. They were so different in how they viewed the world. Yet, something about that felt... okay.

Amritha: Maybe not. But I think that's okay. We can still figure things out together.

Her fingers hovered over the screen as she considered that last sentence. She wasn't sure what figuring things out together meant, not yet. But in that moment, it didn't feel too heavy. It felt like something worth exploring.

Sidharth's reply came quickly.

Sidharth: Fair enough. It's just... I don't know. I want love to be this big thing. Something that feels real, even when it's messy.

Amritha read his message and thought about how much he believed in that ideal. She liked that he believed in something so strongly, but she couldn't help but wonder if that belief was holding him back from seeing love in its truest form.

Amritha: Love is messy. But sometimes, I think the mess is what makes it real. You know? It's not always about a grand declaration or a sweeping gesture. It's the little moments—the quiet things that keep you there even when everything's falling apart.

She paused before sending it, thinking about the times in her life when she'd stayed despite the mess. The way love had shaped her, quietly, over time, rather than in some big, dramatic fashion.

Sidharth: I don't know. Maybe I'm just afraid of the mess. Of not having something worth fighting for.

Amritha's heart softened at his vulnerability. She could see it in her mind—his bright, unwavering faith in the good things that could happen. He wasn't wrong for believing in it, but sometimes it felt like he was trying to avoid the hard parts—the broken pieces that made people who they were.

Amritha: But isn't the mess worth fighting for? (a pause, as she contemplates her own words) It's where you find out who you really are, who they are. If it was all perfect all the time, how would you ever know what real love looks like?

She leaned back in her chair, waiting for his response. The golden light of the sunset outside had deepened, and now the room felt warm, quiet—a contrast to the storm they had just weathered.

Sidharth's reply came, but this time it was slower, more thoughtful.

Sidharth: You're right. It's just... sometimes I think about the kind of love I want, and I'm afraid it won't be enough. I don't want to be left wondering if I did everything I could.

There it was. His vulnerability laid bare. Amritha hadn't expected it, but it made sense. Sidharth had always been the one who gave everything, who held onto his belief in love even when others around him doubted it. He wasn't afraid of commitment. He was afraid of regret.

Amritha took a breath, her fingers dancing over the keys before she pressed send.

Amritha: You can't know everything, Sid. You just have to trust that the love you give will be enough—even if it's messy. Even if it doesn't look like what you thought it would. (a beat) And maybe... maybe it's not about fighting for love. It's about growing with it. Even in the mess.

Sidharth's response came with a simple "Got it." But she could sense there was more in his mind, more that he wasn't saying. And that, somehow, made her feel closer to him than any big gesture ever could.

A few moments passed before the next message popped up.

Sidharth: So... I guess we're not quite on the same page when it comes to love. But maybe that's okay. We're both still figuring it out, right?

Amritha smiled at his words. The way he was willing to accept the differences between them, to let things unfold naturally instead of forcing answers, made her feel like this connection wasn't just a fleeting moment—it had potential. Even if they didn't have it all figured out yet.

Amritha: Yeah, we're figuring it out. One step at a time.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a new idea.

Sidharth: You know what? Next time we meet up, let's talk about something else. No more love talk. Maybe... something random, like, I don't know, philosophy or conspiracy theories.

Amritha laughed aloud at the thought of their next conversation, imagining them spiraling into a tangent about black holes or the secret life of plants.

Amritha: I'm in. But if you bring up Kal Ho Naa Ho again, I'm walking out.

Sidharth's reply came with his trademark humor, but there was something more—something softer beneath it.

Sidharth: Deal. No Kal Ho Naa Ho—but just so you know, I might sneak in an emotional Bollywood moment when you least expect it.

Amritha chuckled, feeling lighter. She set the phone down for a moment, watching the last remnants of the sunset fade into the night sky.