Adulthood Diaries-4, who's that girl?

I was in the library, searching for one of the books from my curriculum. After a while, I finally found it. I flipped through a few pages, checking its condition. It was just what I needed. A soft sigh escaped me-- part relief, part exhaustion.

Late, I went to the canteen for lunch. I was starving. I hadn't eaten anything since the previous night. I bought two patties and, as usual, a cold drink. But instead of staying inside, I walked toward the campus pathways. I never really liked eating in the canteen--- too noisy, too cramped. I preferred the quiet corners outside.

I sat down on a bench, slowly eating. Everything felt unusually quiet that day. I was alone. The one person I'd grown closest to in the past month-- my friend Alizeh--- wasn't around. she had texted me earlier that morning, saying she had a doctor's appointment and wouldn't be coming. I didn't ask anything. I just replied, "Okay, take care." I figured I'd check in with her later.

Alizeh was... different. Gentle, thoughtful, logical-- a rare kind of person. I liked her almost instantly. We bonded quickly over books, long walks, late-night talks. She was good in academics-- so was I. we'd read many of the same novels, shared quiet interests.

She lived with her parents and had grown up in Satara. I had visited her house several times in the past month, and she had visited mine. We even had few sleepovers, in last month.

I guess that's why her absence felt heavier than usual.

With my lunch finished, I found myself observing the world around me. students scattered across the campus-- some chatting in groups, others speaking to professors. A few sat alone, reading, while others mindlessly scrolled through their phones.

And I... I was just watching, what would they be talking about, what books would they be reading? Wondering if anyone else was quietly missing someone too.

I was just glancing around... when I noticed a girl with short, open hair-- neatly styled, effortless. She was wearing formal, straight- cut pant and an elegant tie- neck chiffon blouse with long sleeved. There was something quietly beautiful about her.

She walked gracefully toward the Charles Babbage block, carrying a few books in her arms. Her posture, her pace, the way her clothes moved in sync with the wind-- it was all too familiar. From where I sat, catching glimpse through the reflection on the glass, she looked like an adult version of Kathy.

I couldn't see her face clearly. just a faint outline, a flicker of familiarity. but something inside me Knew.

I wanted to ask her, to stop her--- but before I could even move, she disappeared into the crowd like smoke vanishing in sunlight.

Wasn't that Kathy?

The question haunted me. It kept ringing in my head, circling like a whisper I couldn't quiet down.

Eventually, I gathered the courage to go to that block. I walked through corridors, scanned staircases, peeked into classrooms... but she wasn't there. Nowhere. just gone-- like she was never real to begin with.

Later that night...

I reached my apartment around 8 PM. It was late, but instead of heading straight home, I ended up in a nearby park. I sat alone on a bench, staring at the trees swaying in the dim orange glow of the lamps, thinking about her. About that glimpse. That feeling. That question.

Back home, I dropped onto the sofa in the hall. Turned on the AC, played Ladyfinger on my phone and let it loop over and over, 

I opened the fridge and found a half- filled bottle of wine, I finished it slowly, then walked out to the balcony, leaning against the railing, half drunk and barely seeing straight. 

The night view stretched out before me-- blurred city lights, distant stars, all of it looking far away, like it belonged to someone else's life.

I felt tired, not the kind of tired sleep fixes. A heavier kind-- emotional, mental, soul-deep.

Eventually, I crawled into the bed without dinner, without changing. I just lay there, wrapped in the weight of that one question.

Wasn't that Kathy?