I created this channel so that i can post whatever i want.

I don't even remember what we talked about on the walk back. But I remember what that evening taught me. People think growing up means becoming stronger. I think growing up means becoming honest. When I entered high school, I believed anger made a person powerful. Then I believed silence kept a person safe. Life proved me wrong twice. Real strength wasn't in raising my hand. It wasn't in building walls. It was in admitting I was afraid. And trusting someone enough to tell them why. Years later, people still ask me about school. They ask about marks. About teachers. About competitions. Nobody asks about the playground. Or the library. Or the evenings spent running. Or the friends who quietly changed my life. Maybe that's because the most important lessons are never written in report cards. They're written in memories. If you've read this far, thank you for walking beside that angry fourteen-year-old boy who slowly learned to become a better man. This isn't the end of my story. It's only the end of one chapter of my life. Because every finish line... Is just another starting line wearing a different name.

Chapter 10: The Boy Who Finally Spoke

Some endings don't arrive with goodbyes. They arrive with a conversation that should have happened long ago. For almost a month, I had mastered the art of avoiding Shruti. Different benches. Different corridors. Different excuses. The strange thing about running away is... You have to keep running every single day. And it gets exhausting. One Monday morning, Ashu threw his bag onto the bench beside me. "Enough." I looked at him. "What?" "I'm tired." "Of what?" "Watching two intelligent people behave like complete idiots." I couldn't help smiling. "I don't know what you're talking about." Ashu leaned forward. "No?" "You don't." He counted on his fingers. "Physics marks are down." "You stopped running." "You don't laugh anymore." "And Shruti..." He paused. "...she stopped smiling." That last sentence hit harder than I expected. Ashu stood up. "I'm not asking what happened." "I'm telling you to fix it." Then he walked away. Sometimes friends don't solve your problems. They simply stop you from lying to yourself. That evening, I went to the playground. For the first time in weeks. The sun was beginning to set. The same orange sky. The same running track. The same old ground. Only one thing had changed. There she was. Running alone. She noticed me but kept going. I waited near the finish line. When she completed her lap, she slowed down, picked up her water bottle, and turned to leave. "Shruti." She stopped. For a few seconds, neither of us moved. Then she walked toward me. "What happened, Ani?" Not... "How are you?" Not... "Where were you?" Just... "What happened?" There was no anger in her voice. Only confusion. And maybe a little sadness. I looked down. "I owe you an apology." She stayed quiet. "I've owed you one for a month." "I know." I took a deep breath. "I wasn't avoiding you because of something you did." "I was avoiding you because I got scared." She frowned slightly. "Scared of me?" "No." I smiled weakly. "Scared of myself." She didn't interrupt. So, for the first time in my life... I didn't hide behind silence. I told her everything. How confused I had been. How I didn't know what to do. How I was afraid of losing our friendship. How every day I wanted to talk... But every day it became harder. When I finally finished, she stood there for a moment without saying anything. Then she shook her head and smiled. "You know what's funny?" "What?" "I thought you hated me." "What?" "You disappeared." "You stopped talking." "You wouldn't even look at me." "What else was I supposed to think?" "I never hated you." "I know that now." A cool evening breeze passed between us. Then she looked at me and said something I'll never forget. "Ani..." "Communication isn't about saying the perfect thing." "It's about not leaving the other person alone with their imagination." I stood there quietly. She was right. Every story I had invented in my own head... She had been inventing one too. And both of us were wrong. "I really am sorry." This time... She smiled. "I know." For a few moments we simply stood there. The silence had returned. But this silence was different. It wasn't hiding anything. It was healing. After a while she laughed. "So..." "Hmm?" "Have you forgotten how to run too?" I looked at the track. "Probably." "Race?" "You know I'll lose." "I know." "Then why race?" She smiled. "Because you finally showed up." That evening we ran. Not to win. Not to train. Just because it felt good to run again. Ashu was waiting near the gate when we finished. He looked at both of us. "So..." "So," I replied. He folded his arms dramatically. "I deserve credit." Shruti laughed. "You deserve silence." Ashu placed a hand on his chest. "After all I've done?" "Tragic." For the first time in weeks... All three of us laughed together. Looking back now, I don't remember who won that race. I don't remember how many laps we completed.

She looked at me for a long moment. Her eyes searched mine. She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped, looking nervous. "What happened?" I asked gently. "Nothing." "Shruti... tell me." After I kept insisting, she finally whispered, voice barely audible, "I was wondering… how to kiss." The words hit me like a wave. My heart hammered in my chest. "I… I was wondering the same thing," I admitted. She looked at me, vulnerable and hopeful. "Can we try?" Everything else vanished. Some invisible force, like a magnet, pulled us toward each other. I moved closer. She moved closer. Our faces were inches apart. I gently cupped her cheeks with both hands, feeling how warm and soft her skin was. "Shruti," I whispered, voice thick with emotion, "you’ve become the most beautiful part of my days. I don’t know what this is… but I don’t want to fight it anymore." I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. The kiss started soft and hesitant, full of nervousness and wonder, then deepened. For nearly five minutes we lost ourselves in it—slow, intense, and full of everything we had been holding back for months. When we finally broke for air, I picked her up like in the movies and gently laid her on the bed. She looked up at me with a shy, glowing smile. "Ani…" she breathed, half-laughing in disbelief and happiness. I kissed her again. This time she grabbed my cheeks, pulling me closer, kissing me back with equal passion. I hovered over her, her beneath me, the world reduced to just us. Then suddenly my senses crashed back in. *Something is wrong, Ani. Something is wrong.* Guilt, fear, and overwhelming responsibility hit me all at once. I pulled back sharply. "I… I need a minute. Toilet," I muttered. She nodded, still catching her breath. "Okay…" The toilet was outside the room. As soon as I stepped out and made sure she couldn’t see me, panic took over. I didn’t think. I just ran. Through the hostel corridors, out the gate, all the way back to my own room in the boys’ hostel. My mind was a mess of guilt, fear, and lingering warmth from her lips. The next morning, I couldn't bring myself to face her. At coaching, I chose a different bench. At school, I buried myself in books. If I saw her in the corridor, I suddenly remembered somewhere else I needed to be. Ashu noticed almost immediately. "Bro." "Hmm?" "Did you two fight?" "No." "Then why are you acting like she borrowed money from you?" I forced a laugh. "Nothing happened." He looked at me for a few seconds. Then quietly said, "Whatever it is..." "...don't let silence answer for you." I nodded. But I didn't listen. Days turned into weeks. A week became two. Two became almost a month. Shruti stopped trying to stop me in the corridors. She stopped saving me a seat. She stopped asking for my notes. The distance between us wasn't measured in steps. It was measured in words we never spoke. Looking back now, I realize something. The biggest mistakes in my life were never made in anger. They were made in silence. Because silence doesn't always protect us. Sometimes... It only protects our fear. And fear has a habit of hurting the people we never wanted to hurt. At the time, I thought avoiding Shruti would make everything easier. I couldn't have been more wrong. Because sometimes... Running away doesn't end the story. It simply delays the chapter you were always meant to face. And that chapter... Was waiting for me.

Chapter 9: The Night I Ran Away

People often say that courage is standing in front of your fears. I disagree. Sometimes courage is simply staying when every part of you wants to run. Back then... I wasn't very courageous. Ever since Shruti told me about her dream of becoming an IPS officer, our evening runs had become a routine. Every day after school, we'd meet at the playground behind the school. The same ground where, years ago, I had become the boy everyone feared. Funny how the same place that once witnessed my anger had now become a place where I found peace. Life really does come full circle. One evening, after a particularly long discussion about current affairs in the school library, we sat in a quiet corner surrounded by old books. The library was almost empty. Shruti was flipping through a magazine while I pretended to read. Our eyes kept meeting over the pages. No one spoke, but the silence felt full—like the books around us were holding secrets we weren’t ready to say out loud. She smiled softly at one point and slid a quote book toward me. That quiet library moment stayed with me longer than I expected. A few days later, after finishing our run, we were both completely exhausted. I sat on the grass trying to catch my breath. Shruti looked at me and laughed. "You still can't beat me." "I was letting you win." "Of course you were." "If we ran another lap..." "You'd still lose." I shook my head. "Confidence." "No," she smiled, "practice." As we packed our bags, she suddenly asked, "Want to watch a movie?" I looked at her. "Where?" "My hostel room." I hesitated. "My roommate has gone home for the weekend." Seeing the doubt on my face, she laughed. "Relax, Mr. Overthinker." "We're just watching a movie." I smiled. "Fine." Her room was small but tidy. A study table near the window. A bookshelf filled with current affairs magazines. Running shoes placed neatly beside the bed. On the wall was a handwritten note. 'One day. IPS.' I pointed toward it. "You really believe it." She looked at the note and smiled. "I have to." She opened her laptop. "What should we watch?" After scrolling for a while, we settled on *The Fault in Our Stars*. "Everyone says it's good," she said. "So either we'll love it..." "...or we'll waste two hours." The movie began. At first we joked about everything. Then slowly... The room became quieter. Some scenes made us laugh. Some made us emotional. When the kissing scene came, the atmosphere in the small room shifted completely. I felt my pulse quicken. My mouth went dry. I shifted uncomfortably on the bed as teenage hormones took over—thoughts I had no control over flooded my mind. I glanced at Shruti. Her cheeks were flushed pink, she was biting her lower lip, and her breathing had changed. She looked equally affected, eyes glued to the screen but clearly distracted, the way teenagers get when that kind of scene plays and suddenly the air feels too thick to breathe normally. Neither of us said anything. The silence was loud. When the credits rolled, neither of us spoke for a while. Finally, I stood up. "I should get back." She looked disappointed. "So soon?" "It's getting late." She nodded slowly. "Stay a little longer." "Please." There was something different in her voice. Not dramatic. Just... lonely. I sat back down. Around nine o'clock she went to the small kitchen area and made aloo parathas with tomato chutney. "They're not perfect," she warned. I took the first bite. "They're better than the hostel food." "That's not a compliment." "It is if you've eaten our hostel food." She laughed. We ate while talking about school, coaching, Ashu's terrible jokes, and Mr. Pathak's impossible Physics questions. For a while, everything felt wonderfully ordinary. After dinner, we sat quietly by the window. Outside, the campus had gone almost silent. Only the sound of crickets and the occasional barking dog broke the stillness. Then she softly said, "Ani." "Hmm?"

"I was!" Now both of us laughed. After a moment, she looked outside the classroom window. "My father used to take me there." The smile on her face slowly faded. "He always wanted me to become a police officer." I stayed quiet. She continued. "He used to say..." "If you wear the uniform one day... I'll salute you first." She smiled. But this time... Her eyes didn't. A few seconds passed. Then she quietly said, "He never got the chance." I looked at her. "My father died in a road accident when I was young." The classroom suddenly felt very quiet. "My mother couldn't manage everything alone." "My uncle stepped in." "He has taken care of both of us ever since." "I live here for studies..." "...but sometimes..." She paused. "...sometimes home feels very far away." Her voice trembled. She quickly looked away. As if she didn't want anyone to notice the tears gathering in her eyes. I wanted to say something. Anything. But words felt too small. So I simply listened. Sometimes... Listening is the kindest thing you can do. After a few moments, I quietly handed her my handkerchief. She looked at it. Then looked at me. "You always carry one?" "I sweat a lot while running." That made her laugh through her tears. Mission accomplished. She wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry." "You don't have to be." She took a deep breath. "Sometimes I miss him." "I know." "No..." She smiled softly. "You don't." "Nobody does." For a moment... Neither of us spoke. Then I finally said, "I may not know how it feels..." "...but I do know one thing." She looked at me. "If becoming an IPS officer was his dream..." "...then let's make sure it becomes yours too." She smiled. "Ani..." "Hmm?" "Will you really help me?" I looked at her and answered without thinking. "Of course." "I'll help you clear Physics." She laughed. "And running?" "I'll try not to die." She laughed even harder. "Deal." From that day onward... The evening ground wasn't just a place to exercise anymore. It became a place where two students chased different dreams... One running toward a uniform. The other... Without realizing it... Running toward someone who was slowly becoming the most important part of his journey. Looking back today... I don't remember how many laps we completed. I don't remember how fast we ran. But I do remember one promise. A promise made by a seventeen-year-old boy who had no idea what the future held. "I'll help you become an IPS officer." Life smiled quietly that day. Because it already knew... Some promises are easier to make... ...than they are to keep.

Chapter 8: The Race That Changed Everything

Dreams are funny. Some people dream of becoming rich. Some dream of becoming famous. Some dream of changing the world. And then there are people... Who quietly wake up every morning and start running toward a dream no one else can see. I didn't know it then... But I had just met one of those people. After the incident with the forgotten promise, life slowly returned to normal. Coaching. School. Homework. Repeat. One afternoon during lunch, our group somehow started talking about future careers. One friend wanted to become an engineer. Another wanted to become a doctor. Ashu confidently announced, "I'm going to become rich." Someone asked, "Doing what?" Ashu shrugged. "I'll figure that part out later." Everyone laughed. Then someone looked at Shruti. "What about you?" She remained silent, failing to respond. The table became quiet. So.i choose to step in and change the topic That silent stayed with me. Over the next few weeks, I started noticing things I had ignored before. Whenever there was a discussion about current affairs... Shruti somehow knew the answer. If teachers mentioned politics... She knew the names. If someone brought up a famous police officer or a national issue... She would join the discussion without hesitation. One day Mr. Pathak casually asked, "Can anyone tell me why discipline is more important than talent?" Most of us stayed quiet. Shruti raised her hand. "Because talent wins competitions." She paused. "But discipline wins life." Even Mr. Pathak smiled. I remember thinking... "She doesn't just study books." "She studies life." Around the same time, a few seniors in my hostel were preparing for army and police recruitment. Every evening they would disappear with their running shoes. Then return looking exhausted... And somehow happy. One evening they asked me, "Ani, coming?" I laughed. "I can't even run to catch the school bus." One senior smiled. "Then start with us." That evening, I did. Behind our school was the same old playground. The same ground where, years ago, my story as the feared boy had begun. Funny how life brings you back to the same places... But as a different person. The first day nearly killed me. After one lap, I felt like my lungs had submitted their resignation letter. The seniors weren't helpful either. One of them shouted, "Bro, even the stray dogs are running faster than you!" Another added, "If the police ever chase you, don't worry." "They'll get tired waiting for you to start." Everyone laughed. Including me. Somehow that made the running easier. A week passed. Every evening I ran. Every evening I regretted running. And every next evening... I went again. One day we stayed later than usual. The sun was almost setting. The ground was nearly empty. I was finishing another lap when I noticed someone entering through the main gate. A girl. She stretched for a few seconds. Then started running. From a distance... She looked familiar. "No way..." I squinted. "Is that... Shruti?" Without thinking, I started running faster. The seniors immediately noticed. "Oye!" One of them shouted. "Who put a rocket under you today?" Another laughed. "Forget army recruitment..." "This fellow is running after promotion already!" I ignored them. My eyes were fixed on the girl ahead. The closer I got... The more familiar she looked. The short hair. The running style. The blue tracksuit. "It has to be her." Before I could catch up... My seniors called me back. "Ani! Home!" Hostel timings weren't suggestions. They were orders. I looked at the girl one last time. Then turned around. The mystery remained unsolved. The next morning at coaching, I couldn't wait. As soon as Shruti sat down, I asked, "Can I ask you something?" She looked curious. "What?" "Do you go running every evening?" She blinked. "...At the school ground?" Her eyebrows lifted. "You saw me?" "So it was you!" She laughed. "I thought someone was chasing me yesterday."