Unexpected Stops and New Beginnings

Rishi smiled warmly at Neeranjana's dedication.

"Nice. Keep it up," he said encouragingly, as she scribbled thoughtful lines into her notebook.

As the Tamil Nadu Express rolled steadily through the southern plains, the two sat together, refining her speech. She was preparing for her college reunion, but the words weren't coming easily.

"I want it to be in Tamil," she said suddenly, sighing. "I spent four years in Chennai — I owe it to my friends. But forming the right words... it's hard."

Rishi offered gently, "You can speak in English, but use Tamil expressions... with meaning. That way, they feel it, even if you're more comfortable in English."

Her eyes lit up. "Like... a blend?"

He nodded. "Yes. For example, say: 'Naan mattum kathai illa....' and translate it like: 'I am not the only one... I am not the only story... One is not the only one.'"

Neeranjana smiled, slowly nodding. The rest of the evening slipped by as they worked together — refining metaphors, shaping emotion into sentences.

By nightfall, the Tamil Nadu Express finally pulled into Chennai Central, well past 11 PM. The air was thick with humidity and station noise, glowing under white lights. Tired passengers scattered like leaves in the wind.

Rishi pulled out his phone, searching for a bus to Sriperumbudur, but sighed in disappointment. Nothing at this hour.

Just then, Neeranjana's bag toppled, scattering some papers and cosmetics. Rishi quickly helped gather her things, placing them on top of his trunk box.

"Where's your reunion venue again?" he asked.

" Wait, now I checked the direction—it says Thirunindravur, Chennai," she replied.

Rishi blinked. "That's actually in Thiruvallur district, not exactly central Chennai. The address must have confused you."

"Oh no..." she said, frowning.

"No worries," Rishi said calmly. "Let's catch a local train to Thiruvallur. I'll help you get there."

They crossed over to the suburban terminal, boarded the quiet late-night train, and soon arrived in Thirunindravur. A short auto ride later, they reached the reunion campus — a peaceful place nestled in quiet streets.

Rishi handed her the bags and said, "I'll head out now. Sriperumbudur's not far, right?"

She checked her phone again and looked worried. "It's near… but no vehicles at this time. You might get stuck."

Rishi nodded in reluctant agreement.

Neeranjana hesitated, then offered, "There's a guest house nearby. The reunion committee arranged rooms. Please stay — just till morning."

Rishi was unsure but saw her sincerity. "Okay. Just the night."

The building was simple, clean, and dimly lit — a safe place to pause after a long day. Inside, a few of her friends were chatting excitedly.

"You found someone to help you carry everything?" one teased.

"This guy followed you all the way from Central Station?" another grinned.

Rishi smiled politely, brushing it off.

That night, as the world outside hushed into sleep, Neeranjana sat up making small notes.

Rishi asked, "Still working on the speech?"

She nodded. "It's important to me."

"Want to practice again?" he asked.

Neeranjana looked at him gratefully and opened her notebook.

Rishi sat quietly among the audience as the reunion buzzed with activity. Laughter, hugs, and nostalgia filled the air.

When Neeranjana stepped onto the stage, silence followed.

She began softly:

"I am not the only one... I am not the only story... One is not the only one."

"We are all stories — of different kinds, different colours and hues

We are all stars… or maybe just star dust."

"We are stories being written every day by the decisions we make.

We meet people — some just pass by…

But some become part of our journey,

Etched into our memory.

They inspire us, challenge us, and show us a different side of life —

A side of courage, love, and quiet strength."

"One is one story. But I wonder…

Have I inspired anyone?

Because this story, my story —

It's now at a stage where writing the next page

Requires more than ink —

It needs thought, hope, and the right words."

"The story of our lives...

Is to be continued."

Applause rang out — not loud at first, but slowly growing, rising like a wave of recognition. Her voice, her sincerity, had moved them.

After the speech, a few of her classmates approached Rishi, who stood near the back.

"Is she your friend?" someone asked.

"You're lucky to hear her speak in tamil," said another. "She has a beautiful heart."

Rishi smiled quietly, a strange warmth spreading inside.

In this unfamiliar city, among people he'd just met, he felt something he hadn't in a long time — belonging.