During my formative years as a design enthusiast, preparing for the entrance exams that would have the way for my creative pursuits, I often noticed a classmate who seemed to inhabit a world of her own. She would sit alone, her focus unwavering as she immersed herself in work, oblivious to the cacophony of laughter and chatter that surrounded her. The raucous humour of our peers failed to pierce her concentration, and she remained steadfast in her singular devotion to her craft. Her demeanour was a testament to her unwavering dedication, and I was struck by the depth of her conviction.

“A rebel wave of youth swept by,
Yet she remained a tranquil shore,
unswayed by trends,
She chartered her own score.”

Captivated by her enigmatic presence, I began sitting beside her, engaging in conversations tailored to her comfort zone. She wasn't an eccentric; she simply craved meaningful companionship. My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked why she eschewed group dynamics. Her response was both poignant and profound: 'I'm not being impolite; I'm merely being pragmatic. My father single-handedly bears the burden of my tuition fees. It's not my peer group that's investing in my education.’ It was striking to encounter a girl who, amidst a generation obsessed with social validation and online notoriety, remained resolute in her singular focus on academic excellence.

“Her story unfolded like a verse of sorrow,
each line a testament to the wounds of love.
The wrong heart had beaten for her,
leaving her breathless and bruised.”

As the days passed, we gradually opened up to each other, sharing the intricacies of our daily lives. My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked if she had ever been in a romantic relationship or had a boyfriend. Her response struck a chord within me: "I loved someone with unwavering devotion, and I wanted to be loyal to that one person. Unlike this generation, I believed in the sanctity of commitment. But fate had other plans. It was the most beautiful and the most excruciating experience of my life. I still carry those feelings.’’ Her tone was matter-of-fact, but I sensed a depth of emotion beneath the surface. Her silence after sharing this fragment of her past spoke volumes. I felt an overwhelming urge to ask more, to understand the nuances of her story.

A devil incarnate, he stormed her life,
Torture and pain, his wicked strife.
Yet, she stood tall, a phoenix rare,
Handled his darkness with strength to spare.

The next day, I asked her if she was ready to open up about her past love story. To my surprise, she agreed without a moment’s hesitation. With a calm yet nostalgic look in her eyes, she began:

“I was in 9th standard when I texted a boy for the first time from my side — a decision I now consider one of the biggest mistakes of my life. He already had a crush on me, which I was aware of, but at that time, all I truly cared about was having deep and engaging conversations about anime. He was an otaku, just like me, and that shared interest was enough to start something... or so I thought.”

As days went by, their chats on Snapchat grew more frequent. On the seventh day, he confessed his feelings and proposed to her. She turned him down. However, he continued to pursue her — not aggressively, but with constant persuasion, emotional appeals, and soft, romantic reels that slowly chipped away at her resistance. Despite never having been interested in relationships before, something about his gentle persistence melted her heart.

Fifteen days after that initial proposal, she finally said yes. And for a while, things were beautiful. They were both happy, caught up in the newness of young love.

But that bliss didn’t last long.

Her birthday arrived — a day she had envisioned as the most special one yet, especially now that she had someone who claimed to love her. But instead of joy, the day brought heartbreak. They fought — for the first time — and on her birthday, of all days.

The reason? Something so trivial, yet it exposed a side of him she hadn't seen before. She had casually mentioned, with genuine affection, “My brother is the closest person to me. No one can replace him.” Instead of understanding, he grew jealous. Yes, jealous of her own brother.

She looked down as she finished telling this part, the pain of that memory still fresh. It was clear that what had started as innocent conversations about anime had spiralled into a relationship that was tainted by insecurity, possessiveness, and emotional immaturity.

But the story didn’t end there — in fact, it had only just begun. What followed was a whirlwind of contradictions, a rollercoaster of emotions that left her questioning her own worth far more than she ever imagined possible.

There were moments — fleeting, yet intoxicating — when he made her feel like she had made the best decision of her life by accepting his proposal. In those rare instances, he was charming, attentive, and made her believe that love was everything she had hoped for.

But those moments were just one-fourth of the story.

The rest of the time — the overwhelming majority — he made her feel like she didn’t deserve a single good thing in life. Not happiness. Not love. Not even the right to exist. His words were laced with emotional manipulation, his tone often heavy with blame. He projected every problem in his life onto her, as though she were the root of all his misfortunes.

And then came the control.

It wasn’t long before he demanded she block her brother — the very person she once said was closest to her — from every platform. Social media, messaging apps, even in real life, he insisted she cut all communication. He masked his possessiveness with the excuse of love, jealousy disguised as care. And she... she complied. Not out of fear, but out of a desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, things would get better if she just kept sacrificing parts of herself.

Despite all the red flags, despite the emotional torment and the isolation, she never once thought of breaking up with him. She endured it all, convincing herself that love was meant to be hard — that if she stayed just a little longer, it might all be worth it in the end.

But deep down, a storm was building.

A point of no return was reached the day he shattered every boundary. Blocking a brother paled in comparison to what he did next. He compelled her to bathe in front of him, unclothed, during a video call. His justification? "I just want to see you completely so no one can ever take you from me. You know I love you, don't you? I really love you. Why don't you trust me? You don't have to be shy with me."

I thought to myself, "How much lower could he possibly sink in her eyes?" He tried to manipulate her in every conceivable way, but he failed. She wept for days until his manipulation ceased, giving way to blackmail. Then came a truly intolerable act. He emotionally blackmailed her, saying that if she truly loved him, she would follow his demand; otherwise, he would jump from his building. He showed her a view of himself sitting on the edge of his terrace pretending to do suicide. Left with no other choice, she reluctantly complied.

She stood naked on the video call, holding back tears and forcing a smile. After the call ended, she cried uncontrollably. As I sat there, I clenched my hands and legs tightly, holding back my own tears, devastated to see that she could still smile after enduring all of that.

He began forcing her to take midnight showers on video calls — not once, but regularly, for hours at a time. Each session lasted two to three hours, sometimes even more, as if stripping her of comfort and rest was part of his twisted control.

She stood under the cold stream of water, her skin slowly giving in to irritation and rawness. Red patches, rashes, and burning sensations became part of her daily existence — yet she endured it all in silence.

She resisted with all the strength she had left, but she was helpless — caught in a cycle of emotional blackmail and psychological torture. The pain wasn't just physical; it was deeply emotional, gnawing at her sense of self-worth, breaking her down piece by piece.

Months passed, and he continued to keep her hanging, claiming that his father had told him not to talk to her—an outright lie. He was enjoying his life, flirting with other girls, and even entered into a relationship with someone else, all without giving her a clear answer. Despite all of this, she waited for him, hoping he would come around, but he remained indifferent.

He changed his password, but refused to let her change hers, keeping her locked in the cruel reality of his actions. After two months, she discovered that her toxic ex-boyfriend had proposed to one of her best friends. What was worse, her so-called "friends" didn’t even inform her about it promptly. She had placed so much trust in them—how could they betray her like this?

After enduring three months of suffering, he returned in December, forcing her into a relationship despite her clear reluctance. That same day, he punched her on the shoulder, marking the first time he had physically struck her. To make matters worse, it was the same day she learned that he had proposed to her best friend several months earlier.

When she refused to engage with him that day, he crossed yet another boundary, raising his hand and hitting her again. Through his relentless blackmail and manipulation, she was coerced into returning to him, despite having no desire to do so. Her will was crushed under the weight of his toxic control.

As time passed, he began to abuse her emotionally, subjecting her to a relentless barrage of 200 to 300 abusive words daily, even when she hadn’t done anything wrong. Their relationship became toxic; if she made any mistake and apologised sincerely, he would still argue or fight with her for hours, sometimes days, making her endure the most cruel and degrading words—words she had never heard from anyone else. Yet, when he made mistakes intentionally, she could never expect an apology from him. His disregard for her feelings was staggering, and the imbalance of their relationship grew ever more suffocating.

He treated her as if she were someone to be taken for granted. Days passed, and she tried her best to live happily with him, but when January came, their pre-board exams were fast approaching. She loved him wholeheartedly, so she wanted to spend the entire day talking to him. However, with exams looming and knowing he struggled academically, she suggested they study together over a video call.

Once again, she made a mistake. She offered him her finger to hold, but he pulled her hand. He then shifted all the responsibility for his studies onto her, making her feel obligated to ensure his success. If she called late because she was eating or resting, he would verbally abuse her. If there was even a slight change in the tone of her voice due to exhaustion, he would lash out.

I couldn’t understand how he could do this to her. How could she still love him after seeing this cruel side of him? It was beyond comprehension.

Their exams went smoothly, and they were now focused on preparing for the impending board exams, just two months away. Before that, their school organised a food festival, where each batch was tasked with bringing and selling food to the teachers. It should have been a cheerful, carefree day for her; yet, as always, he found a way to ruin it.

She stood beside a boy simply to reserve a table. Her friends couldn’t stand in her place as they were busy preparing their mocktails and had no time to argue with others for a good spot. He, however, took it the wrong way, showing a complete lack of trust in her, and blamed her for intentionally standing next to the boy. All day, he glared at him from a distance, seething with anger, while she couldn’t even muster a proper smile.

As if that wasn’t enough, he brought her a diary as a gift—something she had been eagerly anticipating. But instead of offering it to her with any warmth, he threw it at her face in the back part of the school. She had been so excited to receive it, but he ruined the moment completely, dousing all her joy. That day, he unleashed an onslaught of abuse, and she couldn’t hold it in anymore. She broke down in front of her batchmates, friends, and teachers, who all rallied around her in support.

Seeing this only fuelled his anger further. He stormed off, heading straight home. She knew a much bigger confrontation awaited her there.

She, however, as always, handled the situation with remarkable composure and managed to calm him down. In just ten days, it would be her birthday, and in sixteen days, their board exams would begin. Despite the emotional turmoil, she focused on her responsibilities. She worked tirelessly every day, making sure he stayed on track with his studies via video calls. Even though her data package was minimal, she refused to waste it on social media. Instead, she dedicated every bit of it to explaining the entire 10th-grade curriculum to him—the entire course.

Even when exhaustion hit her at the next level, she didn’t give up. Her perseverance was unwavering, and she sacrificed her own comfort to ensure his success.

She accomplished all of this while constantly being under the watchful eye of one of the strictest mothers anyone could have in her generation. The pressure was immense, yet her ability to navigate through it all with grace was nothing short of admirable. Her risk-taking nature, though daunting, was also commendable. She made sacrifices that many wouldn't dare to make, balancing her responsibilities with the constant challenge of her mother's expectations.

Then came her birthday—a day she had been hoping for a brief escape from the endless cycle of studying and fighting with him. But, as always, she should have known better than to expect anything positive from him.

He wished her first on video call, and for a brief moment, she was genuinely happy. His warm, sincere expression made her heart swell. But it didn’t take long before a tsunami of abusive words shattered her joy and ruined what should have been a special day.

Her friends called to wish her, and she was happily chatting with them, gossiping and laughing. In her excitement, she didn’t notice he was calling her repeatedly. When she finally called him back, he immediately demanded to know what she was doing. She simply replied, “We’re just gossiping.”

That was enough to set him off. He erupted in fury, shouting at her that she had time to chat with her friends, but didn’t care enough to explain her studies to him. The argument escalated quickly, and he spent the entire night berating her, throwing death threats and abusing her with words darker than hell itself.

Her friends, who were on the conference call with her, had no idea what was happening. They were horrified by what they were hearing. Some of them even began to cry, gasping for breath as the verbal assault continued. Yet, despite everything, she held herself together with extraordinary willpower. Not a single tear fell from her eyes.

Bro, it was her birthday! How could he say such vile things when this was the one day she was supposed to enjoy?

Then came her birthday—a day she had been hoping for a brief escape from the endless cycle of studying and fighting with him. But, as always, she should have known better than to expect anything positive from him.

He wished her first on video call, and for a brief moment, she was genuinely happy. His warm, sincere expression made her heart swell. But it didn’t take long before a tsunami of abusive words shattered her joy and ruined what should have been a special day.

Her friends called to wish her, and she was happily chatting with them, gossiping and laughing. In her excitement, she didn’t notice he was calling her repeatedly. When she finally called him back, he immediately demanded to know what she was doing. She simply replied, “We’re just gossiping.”

That was enough to set him off. He erupted in fury, shouting at her that she had time to chat with her friends, but didn’t care enough to explain her studies to him. The argument escalated quickly, and he spent the entire night berating her, throwing death threats and abusing her with words darker than hell itself.

Her friends, who were on the conference call with her, had no idea what was happening. They were horrified by what they were hearing. Some of them even began to cry, gasping for breath as the verbal assault continued. Yet, despite everything, she held herself together with extraordinary willpower. Not a single tear fell from her eyes.

Bro, it was her birthday! How could he say such vile things when this was the one day she was supposed to enjoy?

One day, because her friends had grouped up with other good boys, he became insanely jealous. He even revealed his toxic side to her friends, insisting that they should only associate with him. What did he mean? That just because they were friends with him, they couldn’t have any other male friends?

Her friends, understandably, couldn’t tolerate his controlling behaviour and responded sharply, standing up for themselves. This, of course, only fuelled his resentment, and he began holding grudges against them. As a result, he pressured her into blocking her best friends, just as he had with his cousin’s brother. His possessiveness knew no bounds, and the toxic hold he had over her only tightened.

Listening to all these terrifying incidents, I couldn’t bear to hear any more. The weight of it all was overwhelming, and I finally asked, "How did you break up with him?”

She replied that during the month of May, she noticed he was growing increasingly distant. He seemed to be preoccupied with hanging out with his friends, and he had time to reply to everyone else—except her. She couldn’t take it anymore. At that point, she decided to turn the tables. She became undeniably toxic, engaging in endless arguments over trivial issues. The toxicity consumed her, and she couldn’t even control it.

The artist within her, who had started to emerge during 9th grade, had been buried deep inside for so long that she couldn’t even reach her creative spirit anymore. He, however, wasn’t like her. He didn’t understand her, and, naturally, he insisted on a breakup. But, as usual, it wasn’t a clear-cut one. He didn’t give her a definite answer. Instead, he removed her from Snapchat but continued to follow her on Instagram, leaving her in a state of limbo.

A day after that, she experienced an excruciating pain in her lower abdomen. The pain was so unbearable that she found herself digging her nails into her skin, writhing in agony, struggling just to stay conscious. She could have called out to her aunt, who was working in the kitchen, but the first person who came to her mind was him.

She dialled his number repeatedly, desperate for help or at least some emotional support. But he rejected her calls over and over, and eventually, he blocked her altogether. At that moment, it felt like the worst thing that could possibly happen.

Later that day, she had to undergo emergency surgery involving her ovary and fallopian tube. It was a physically and emotionally traumatic experience. Even then, she tried to inform him—still holding on to the hope that he might care. But all he did was ask about her health out of mere formality, with no real concern in his words. That cold indifference shattered her heart even further.

Yet, going through all of this became a turning point. It forged her into someone stronger than she had ever been. She rose from that pain with resilience, now fully prepared to face him—not with silence, but with the sharp, fiery responses he truly deserved.

She became far more self-assured and ego-driven than he had ever been. He couldn’t handle this new, unapologetic version of her—so he chose to leave. He blocked her, walking away without a second thought. But what he didn’t realise was that in doing so, he awakened a part of her that had never existed before. It was as if all the pain, betrayal, and heartbreak had summoned an alter ego within her—one that was fierce, unapologetic, and emotionally untouchable.

Even weeks and months after their breakup, he kept trying to contact her, attempting every possible form of manipulation to reel her back in. But she never looked back. Despite still harbouring feelings for him deep within, she chose self-respect over attachment. She chose healing over habit. And she never looked back.

Those were the words that made me feel immensely proud of her. For the first time, she was experiencing genuine inner peace—and as she spoke, I smiled, filled with admiration and excitement for the powerful woman she had become.

It’s been three years since I first heard her story. We never expected anything from each other—there was no pretence, no agenda. We were simply two people, completely absorbed in her words, lost in the rawness and depth of her journey. We were so immersed that I didn’t even think to ask her name.

Even now, I chuckle to myself when I think about it. Three years! And I still don’t know her name. Funny, isn’t it?

Ever since I received that text from my design coaching classes about the reunion, I’ve been stuck on the same thought—replaying her story in my mind, piece by piece, and feeling an unexpected excitement at the possibility of seeing her again.

We didn’t exchange numbers. No Instagram handles. Nothing. So, for me, getting this one chance to meet her again feels like something rare… almost cinematic. I want to see how she's been, where life has taken her, and most of all—I want to hear the missing pieces of the love story she once told me. The bridge of her story that I left halfway through.

And this time, maybe I’ll finally ask her name.
Finally, I’ll get to know the name of the unnamed protagonist of her journey—
a journey etched in memory,
handwritten by me,
line by line,
through the voice of someone I never truly knew,
But somehow, never forgot.

.    .    .