The Voice That Woke My Soul
Life was so simple and light-hearted until that one Sunday morning.
Certain mornings don’t just begin with the sun. They begin with something
softer… something sweeter.
It was one of those Sundays. I, the king of lazy mornings, was stubbornly sunk deep in my bed, refusing to wake up even as my mom’s usual morning chaos echoed faintly from the kitchen. But this time, something felt different.
From the hall, I heard a voice.
Not loud. Not calling out. Just a soft, sweet hum… like a gentle breeze brushing over a wind chime, creating music that didn’t demand attention but quietly held it. There was something so pure, so natural, almost divine in that girl’s voice. It wasn’t a song… but it had more soul than any tune I’d ever heard. My ears picked up every little note of her softness, and I just lay there, eyes closed, listening. Not knowing who it was. Not wanting to stop.
Then suddenly, I heard Manas’s voice.
Then suddenly, I heard Manas’s voice.
And just like that, I sat up. Something unknown sparked inside me — like a silent whisper in my
chest saying “go see”. A strange curiosity, a quiet storm.
I walked to the mirror, fixed my hair with a half-smile, half-confusion, opened my room door just a little… and then…
I walked to the mirror, fixed my hair with a half-smile, half-confusion, opened my room door just a little… and then…
There she was.
She was sitting just ahead, slightly turned, her earrings dancing in the soft sunlight that poured
in through the window.
Her earrings, delicate jhumkas, dipped in ocean blue and snow white, shimmered like
they were made of dreams. They moved gently with her every expression, just like her loose
strands of hair swaying over her cheek.
Her smile? Oh god. That smile could silence a thunderstorm.
She looked around the room, unaware of my eyes… and for the first time, I understood what the
poets meant when they said “she didn’t enter the room, she changed the air in it.”
Her eyes weren’t just beautiful — they spoke. As if they'd seen galaxies and still chose
kindness. A small bindi sat on her forehead, like a dot of starlight between two worlds.
I didn’t fall in love that second.
But my heart… it paused.
It stayed there, in that moment. Unaware of time, unaware of why — just deeply present.
I stood there behind the door, not blinking, not breathing too hard, afraid that even a sound
might blur this image. I didn’t know her name. I didn’t know her story. But in that one glimpse…
she became a part of mine.
I took a quick shower and got ready to enter the hall
I took a quick shower and got ready to enter the hall
I walked into the hall, disappointed, yet the fragrance of her presence was
still hanging in the air. I could feel her there, even though she wasn't. It was as if those few
minutes had written pages in my heart that I would never erase.
My mind was full. But I couldn’t ask my mom anything. I tried… and failed… multiple times.
Words didn’t come out. Maybe I feared she’d sense something in my tone… or maybe I was just
not ready to admit that a girl I didn’t even know had already taken a piece of me.
So, I stepped out and went to meet Raghu, my best friend in Peddapalli. We usually hang
around at the railway station, eat some street food, and have senseless but fun conversations.
That day, I told him everything.
He looked at me, smiled, and said,
"Arey Sushanth… you’re blushing bro!"
"Shut up, ra! I don’t even know her."
"That’s the thing. You don’t know her, but your soul already does."
He was right.
In all our years of friendship, I never spoke to him about a girl like this. It wasn’t love. Not yet.
But it was something unexplainable. Something deep. Something magical.
Raghu said,
"She's with Manasa, bro. You’ll trace her out. That’s easy for you. But this feeling, this
face that won’t leave your head — it means something. Let’s see where this goes."
I didn’t want to admit it… But he knew me too well.
Later that evening, I came back home. Laughed with my parents over dinner. I tried again to ask my mom about her, but I failed again. My heart wasn’t ready to speak it out, but it couldn’t stop
thinking either.
I lay in my bed, looking at the ceiling.
Her face kept appearing behind closed eyelids.
Those eyes… that smile… those jhumkas…
I was haunted by a melody I never expected to hear… and somehow, I didn’t want it to stop.
That night, I finally slept… with her memory in my dreams.
And just like that... she walked into my world, not with thunder, but with a voice so soft that it echoed in every corner of my soul.
Her smile, her presence, and that one moment at the bus stop left my heart chasing shadows. But was it just a passing breeze… or the beginning of something unforgettable?
In Part 3, the rain arrives, the winds shift, and destiny plays its first card. Don’t miss it.
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