Siddharth grew up in Trichy, a small yet bustling town in Tamil Nadu. Life was simple, and so was he—a boy with dreams yet to be shaped. When he was in the tenth grade, fate brought him face-to-face with his childhood friend, Anu, after seven long years. But this wasn’t the same girl he had played with as a kid. Anu had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, and the moment Siddharth saw her, something stirred within him. His heart raced, his knees felt weak, and for a moment, he thought he might faint.

They reconnected effortlessly, as if time had never passed. Laughter, shared stories, and stolen glances soon turned into something deeper. In a few months, it was Anu who confessed her feelings first. Their love wasn’t built on grand gestures but on the small moments—the bus rides to and from school, the quick meetings between classes, and the silent promises in their eyes.
Sid, however, had a principle—one he held onto tightly. If we can’t marry, if fate has other plans, I don’t want our love to leave scars on Anu’s life. So, despite their overwhelming love, he maintained a boundary. There was no rush, no recklessness—just a love that grew silently, safely, within the limits they set.

But love has a way of drawing attention. Eventually, Anu’s family found out, and restrictions were imposed. Meetings became difficult, but they found ways—exchanging quick glances from afar, passing handwritten notes through friends, and whispering hurried words over the phone late at night. They clung to whatever little time they could steal.
Then, life took a cruel turn. Sid’s father died in a tragic accident. The loss shattered him. His father had been his anchor, and now, everything felt adrift. With no choice, his family moved to Mumbai. The night before he left, Sid met Anu one last time.
“I don’t know if we’ll make it,” he admitted. “In our community, girls get married early, and you might not be able to wait forever. I’m going to focus on my career and come back for you. If I don’t return by the time you turn twenty-four, don’t wait for me. It means I failed.”

He left with a heavy heart, carrying nothing but memories.

The Years in Mumbai

Mumbai was a different world—loud, fast, and indifferent. Sid started working at Fiat as a project executive, earning a meager ₹4,000 a month. He worked tirelessly, but success was slow. His heart ached to call Anu, to hear her voice, but he held back. Instead, he poured himself into his studies, pursuing an MCA while juggling work.
Every evening, he walked to the beach, sat by the waves, and let his tears mix with the salt in the air.

Then came another twist.

In his second year, Sid visited his friend Vasan’s house and met Renu, Vasan’s cousin. She was still in the eleventh grade—too young, too innocent—but they became close friends. He often spoke about Anu, his lost love, unaware that Renu was falling for him.
One day, she confessed.
Sid refused. “You admire me because of how I love Anu,” he said. “But love isn’t admiration.”
Renu was stubborn. She didn’t ask for forever—just for the chance to be part of his life, even if only for a short while. Reluctantly, Sid agreed, but with conditions. “Until you start college, we meet only once a month at Dadar Barista.”
She agreed. And for those brief meetings, Renu’s world revolved around Sid.

But fate wasn’t kind to her either.

During her twelfth-grade exams, Sid was in Chennai for a project. One night, his brother called him back urgently. By the time he reached Mumbai, Renu was in a coma, battling meningitis. He sat by her bedside every day, helpless, watching the tubes and monitors dictate her fragile existence.
One evening, overcome with grief, he whispered to her, “Why are you suffering so much? Let go, Renu. Rest in peace.”
And then, as if she had been waiting for his permission, her pulse dropped—from 72 to 52, then to 32. Doctors rushed in, but within moments, Renu died in Sid’s arms.
For the second time in his life, Sid watched someone who loved him slip away.

Returning to Trichy

Mumbai became unbearable. The streets, the office, the beach—everything held ghosts of Renu. He hadn’t achieved the success he dreamed of, and the weight of failure kept him from reaching out to Anu.
He took a job in Trichy, hoping to start fresh. Five years had passed. He told himself that Anu had probably moved on, and he had no right to disrupt her life.

Then one day, fate intervened again.
Shiva, a common friend, spotted him and exclaimed, “Where the hell have you been, Sid? Anu has been looking for you for years!”
Sid’s heart pounded. He rushed to Anu’s house.

There she was, sitting on the balcony, reading a book. The moment she saw him, her hands trembled, and the book fell to the ground. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she whispered, “Why now, Sid? Where were you all these years?”

Before he could answer, her parents appeared.
“Sid,” her father said firmly. “Anu is getting married in ten days. She’s moving to the US. Please, let her be. Don’t make this harder for her.”

Sid stood frozen. His ears rang. The world blurred. Somehow, he made it down the stairs, started his bike, and rode away.

Anu watched from the balcony, her vision blurred with tears, as the red tail light of his bike disappeared into the darkness.

And just like that, Sid became another memory she would carry for the rest of her life.