Lover's Diary

It was a winter evening. The day's last light was slowly taking leave in the lap of the sky. Standing on the balcony, Araf was gazing into the darkness, as if wanting to merge with it. In his hand was that old diary, in whose every page lay hidden the most precious memories of his life. In the corner of his eyes gathered some sadness, some ineffable feelings, some unwritten words.

In that diary, her name was entwined in every page. Taha – a girl who seemed ordinary at first glance, but to Araf, she was extraordinary, unique. No matter how ordinary she might have appeared from the outside, her existence was like a sublime melody in Araf's life.

Their first meeting had been in the college canteen, when she walked in wearing a white shirt and blue jeans, with steam rising from a cup of tea in her hand. Araf had watched her, mesmerized. What was it about her? Perhaps her rhythmic gait, perhaps the light of her smile, perhaps the depth in her eyes – there was something that compelled Araf to stare at her that day, enchanted.

That day, sitting in a quiet corner of the canteen with cups of tea, they had talked about many things. Ordinary conversations, yet extraordinary feelings. Araf had no idea that this simple encounter would one day reach so deep into his life.

"You know," Taha had said that day, "I watch birds flying in the sky every day. It feels like they never lose their way. Just as I will never be lost."

These words seemed to have nested deep in Araf's mind. What strange philosophy, what profound insight! In that moment, Araf realized there was something about this girl that was far from ordinary.

Days rolled into weeks, weeks into months – their friendship deepened and intensified. Standing under campus shelters on rainy days, holding steaming cups of tea on winter mornings, walking in the college garden on spring evenings – they unknowingly drew closer to each other.

Araf could feel a new emotion being born somewhere in his heart. When he saw Taha's smile, it was as if wings fluttered inside his chest; when he heard her voice, it felt like spring breezes blowing through his mind. He didn't know what this feeling was, but its sweetness had overwhelmed him.

One evening, in the deserted field of the college, they were walking in the silvery moonlight. The scent of damp grass all around, the distant sound of a flute floating in the air. Gathering his courage, Araf said, "You know, I love you very much."

Taha stopped in her tracks. A faint smile appeared on her face, with a hint of melancholy in her eyes. Then in a slow voice, she said, "Love is a big word, and it's a matter of time. Do we really know if this is love or just a momentary emotion?"

In that moment, Araf seemed to falter. This wasn't rejection, nor was it acceptance. It was the sweet agony of uncertainty. He couldn't understand why Taha responded this way. But in his heart, he held a steadfast belief – one day everything would be all right.

But life never gives enough time. After the final year exams, everyone scattered in different directions. Araf got a good job in Mumbai, while Taha stayed in Kolkata. At first, they would talk regularly on the phone, exchange messages, but gradually that communication began to fade.

The busyness of city life, the pressure of new lives, the company of new people – everything combined to widen the distance between them. Deep down, Araf knew this distance could bring an unseen danger. But he seemed to watch helplessly as their relationship slowly drifted apart.

A year later, when almost all communication had ceased, suddenly one day Taha called. Araf's heart pounded.

"Hello," there was an unfamiliar coldness in Taha's voice.

"Taha?" Araf could hardly believe it.

"Yes, it's me. How are you?"

"Good... and you?"

"I'm okay. It's been quite busy." There was an unspoken hesitation in Taha's voice. After a moment of silence, she said, "Araf, I had something important to talk to you about."

Araf's heart twisted inside.

"I think..." Taha took a deep breath, "our relationship isn't what it used to be. Time has taken us far apart. I respect you a lot, but I think our lives won't move forward together anymore."

Araf remained silent for a while. Then slowly he said, "Have you made any decision?"

"I don't know if this qualifies as a decision. But I feel our paths have diverged. I want you to be very happy, Araf. You are truly an amazing person."

Tears came to Araf's eyes, but he composed himself. "Taha, I still love you."

Silence on the other end.

"That's also a matter of time, Araf. Take care." Taha's voice sounded heavy. Then the phone disconnected.

From that day, Araf never contacted Taha again. But every night before going to sleep, he would write in his diary. Sometimes about Taha, sometimes about himself, sometimes just the day's events. In that diary, Taha's existence seemed to live on, in every page.

Today, a couple of years later, standing on the balcony with that diary in hand, Araf realized that love doesn't get lost. It transforms – sometimes into memories, sometimes into pain, sometimes into lines of poetry. Taha might be happy somewhere today, in an unfamiliar city, perhaps with someone else. But even so, her memories still lived in the pages of Araf's diary.

On the last page of the diary, Araf wrote:

"I don't know if you will come back,

When I think of you, I write a page,

Because in every page of this diary – you are written.

Time may have taken us far apart,

But in these words, you will live forever."

The stars in the sky were twinkling. Araf closed the diary and went back inside. He knows that love doesn't end, only its form changes. Taha may not be physically present now, but she lives on in the ink of his pen, in the pages of his memories, in the depths of his heart.