Bedroom At Night!
The ceiling fan spun above lazily, creating a soft, hypnotic rhythm in the room. Anaya lay sideways on her bed, hugging a pillow close to her chest. Her fairy lights flickered gently across the walls, casting warm little shadows of her books, soft toys, and the pastel curtains that danced faintly with the night breeze.
The diary sat next to her. Closed.
For the first time this week. Her phone buzzed beside her.
She picked up without even saying hello. Mishti’s voice came through like a warm blanket.
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
Why do I feel like someone’s being very dramatic tonight?
Anaya Sharma (FL)
Because I am!! (Anaya groaned softly, pressing the pillow tighter)
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
Vihaan, right? (Mishti chuckled)
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
You didn’t write today? (Mishti continued gently)
Anaya turned on her back and stared at the ceiling.
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
Why?
Anaya Sharma (FL)
…because I feel stupid.
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
Why stupid?
Anaya Sharma (FL)
(Anaya’s voice dropped, softer than a whisper)
Anaya Sharma (FL)
Because he doesn’t even know I exist, Mishu… I write these letters like a heroine in some vintage film. And he’s just… out there, living life, probably not even sparing me a second glance.
She sat up slowly, pulling the diary into her lap, running her fingers over the cover.
Anaya Sharma (FL)
Today papa said his family is looking for rishtas.
That word felt like a rock dropped into still water. Rishta. So full of weight. So final. So painful.
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
(Mishti stayed quiet for a moment then..)
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
And that hurt?
Anaya nodded, though Mishti couldn’t see it.
Anaya Sharma (FL)
Yes. And I don’t even know why it hurt so much. I mean, he’s not mine. I’ve never spoken to him. He’s not my boyfriend or anything. But— (She choked a little on her own words, tears suddenly threatening her lashes)
Anaya Sharma (FL)
But I liked thinking maybe. You know? Maybe one day he’d notice me. Maybe one day our stories would cross. Maybe one day these letters would be real.
The silence between them was soft, understanding.
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
Anu… (Mishti said gently)
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
You’re not silly. You’re just in love for the first time. That’s supposed to feel magical. Even if it’s one-sided.
Anaya Sharma (FL)
(Anaya sniffled and chuckled)
Anaya Sharma (FL)
It’s stupidly magical.
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
Stupid and magical.. the best kind. (Mishti said)
There was a pause. A long breath.
Anaya Sharma (FL)
I just… wish he’d read one of my letters. Just one. So he’d know. (she whispered)
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
Then send one. (Mishti’s voice dropped to a playful whisper)
Anaya Sharma (FL)
Nooo!! (Anaya said dramatically, hugging her pillow like it was Vihaan)
Anaya Sharma (FL)
What if he laughs? What if he tells his brother? What if his mom reads it and shows it to my mom and then I’m banned from ever stepping on my balcony again?!
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
Okay, okay~ (Mishti giggled)
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
You can keep them for now. But don’t stop writing, Anu. Those letters… they’re your heart. Don’t silence it.
Anaya looked down at her diary and slowly opened to a blank page. The smell of paper felt oddly comforting.
Anaya Sharma (FL)
You’re the best, Mishu. (she smiled)
Mishti (Anaya’s best friend)
I know. Now go pour your heart out again.
As the call ended, Anaya pulled her blanket over her legs, took her pen, and began to write.. tears still clinging to the corners of her eyes, but a small hopeful spark flickering in her chest.
Anaya Sharma (FL)
Letter #5
Dear Vihaan,
Today I didn’t write you a letter at first. I tried to stay away from this diary, from the words, from the feelings that won’t go away.
But then my best friend reminded me that even silence has a voice. And mine wants to be heard.
You don’t know me. I’m just a girl you’ve probably never noticed. But every time you walk to your balcony, I see someone who looks like peace.
Maybe you’ll marry someone soon. Maybe you’ll never know how someone across the street thought of you as her poetry. But if one day, even by accident, you read this.. just know someone quietly fell for you through raindrops and glances.
Yours,
– A
She closed the diary, placed it under her pillow, and turned off the lamp. In the dark, her heart beat a little lighter. A little braver.
Maybe tomorrow she’d smile at him.
Maybe tomorrow he’d smile back.
And maybe.. just maybe.. these letters were the beginning of something real.
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