Chapter 9 – The Story Behind the Poem

The bus window reflected a faint blur of the world rushing past, but Ishika's mind wasn't in the present anymore. As the lyrics of her favorite BTS song filled her ears, her thoughts drifted back in time — back to when her words weren't just a poem printed on a page, but a silent scream only her soul understood.

The pain, the heartbreak, the betrayal — all of it began that one trip to Bangalore. Her 4th semester. An industrial visit to ISRO, something every aeronautical student dreams of. Ishika had packed her bags with excitement, her heart full of wonder. She arrived at the railway station with her classmate Afiya, her parents far away in Jejuri, and a familiar ache of missing them blooming quietly inside her.

Everyone's parents were there, clicking photos, hugging their children. Ishika stayed calm — stylish in her K-pop pants and sleeveless shirt, hair clipped up, looking like someone who had it all together.

The AC train compartment was lively — songs, laughter, Bluetooth speakers blasting old Hindi classics and K-pop mashups. And around 7 PM at Belgaum station, Afiya's married sister brought steaming biryani for the entire class. The smell, the fun, the chaos — it felt like a memory being written.

But not every memory is a happy one.

In the midst of the noise, she noticed something. Aishwarya — her closest friend — was distant. No jokes, no shared laughter, no whispers. Instead, she was spending time with other classmates. Ishika didn't overthink it then. She just smiled through it.

The next morning, they reached Bangalore and checked into their hotel. Everyone got assigned rooms in groups of three. Ishika bathed, dressed in a netted white top with a long skirt patterned in black, white, and peach flowers. She let her hair loose, her blue sunglasses completing the look — not for attention, but for herself.

Someone on the street — dressed in a sari — approached her, offered blessings, and said, "You're beautiful." A stranger's words — sincere and unexpected — warmed her heart more than anything her classmates could have said.

And yet, when someone teased Aishwarya about her sunglasses being cheap, Ishika felt the sting. Not because of the joke, but because Aishwarya didn't defend herself like she used to. That invisible thread between them? It was unraveling, slowly and painfully.

At ISRO, surrounded by rocket models, engines, and the very core of her dreams, Ishika wandered alone. Her classmates clicked group pictures. She stood by herself. That day, loneliness didn't feel like silence — it felt like noise no one could hear.

The next day, they visited a wild animal park — deer, bears, birds. Birds. Ishika loved birds. Back in 8th grade, she'd studied them for six months. Her heart fluttered just like the wings inside the cages.

And that's where she met Talah.

He and Suzen came over, starting a conversation. She barely knew him until then, but his kindness was simple and genuine. He walked with her, talked with her, shared silly comments about the animals, and for the first time in days, she didn't feel invisible. A friendship sparked — unexpected, but comforting.

After the trip, everything changed.

Aishwarya distanced herself further. Ishika now sat alone under a tree for lunch, earphones in, hiding behind her playlist. The garden became her solace. Suzen and Talah were the only ones who talked to her regularly. But things were about to get worse.

Aishwarya once told her in private, "Don't trust Talah, he's not a good person." Ishika, in her honesty, casually mentioned this to Talah later. Suzen overheard. And when Suzen confronted Aishwarya, she denied it.

The damage was done.

The fragile trust shattered. Pooja, another close friend, stopped joining Ishika for lunch. She said she'd return once Aishwarya and Ishika patched up — but that never happened. One day, Ishika caught Pooja eating with Aishwarya after saying she wasn't. Lied. Hid things.

It wasn't the fact that they were together that hurt.

It was the lie.

It was the realization that even those who promised to stay could hurt you without lifting a finger.

Even the smallest betrayals leave the deepest scars.