The sky over Uttarakhand stretched endlessly, painted in soft hues of orange and pink as the sun began its descent behind the mountains. The cool breeze carried the scent of pine and damp earth, whispering secrets through the rustling leaves. In the midst of this tranquil beauty, an 18-year-old boy named Vivek sat on a bench overlooking the valley, lost in thought.

For as long as he could remember, Vivek had been fascinated by the idea of love. Not the fleeting infatuations or the shallow romances that surrounded him, but something deeper—something real. He had read countless books, from poetry collections to classic love stories, searching for answers. Yet, love remained a mystery, an untouchable dream woven into words but never truly felt.

“Does real love even exist?” he murmured to himself, watching the golden sunlight fade into twilight.

People around him spoke of love, but their actions contradicted their words. He had seen friends enter relationships that lasted mere weeks, fueled by momentary passion and discarded just as quickly. He had heard stories of betrayal, of people using each other for pleasure, attention, or convenience. It was a world of disposable emotions, and Vivek didn’t want to be a part of it.

But how could he find the love he sought? Where did one begin looking for something so intangible?

With a sigh, he pulled out his worn-out notebook. The pages were filled with thoughts, questions, and fragments of poetry scribbled in moments of reflection. He turned to a fresh page and wrote:

*"What is love?"*

The wind played with the edges of the paper as he tapped his pen against his chin. He had read about love, thought about it endlessly, but he had never experienced it.

*"Maybe to understand love, I need to see it up close,"* he mused.

Little did he know, the answer to his question was about to come into his life in the most unexpected way.

---

The next afternoon, as the sun bathed the hills in a warm glow, Vivek decided to take a walk by the river. It was his favorite place—a quiet retreat where the water sang softly over the rocks and the tall deodar trees stood like silent guardians.

As he approached the riverbank, his steps slowed. A girl sat there, her arms wrapped around her knees, her head bowed. The breeze tousled her long, dark hair, but she didn’t move. Her body trembled slightly, and even from a distance, Vivek could tell—she was crying.

Something in his chest tightened. He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer.

“Are you okay?” his voice was gentle, hesitant.

The girl looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, she said nothing, just staring at him as if deciding whether to speak or not. Finally, she exhaled shakily.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m not.”

Vivek sat down a few feet away, giving her space. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater and let out a bitter laugh. “Talking won’t change anything.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But sometimes, saying things out loud makes them feel less heavy.”

She studied him for a long moment before nodding slightly. “His name was Raghav,” she began, her voice tinged with pain. “I thought he loved me. He said he did. But all he wanted was—” She swallowed hard, looking away. “He used me. And when he got bored, he left.”

Vivek didn’t interrupt. He simply listened, allowing her to let the words flow at her own pace.

“I gave him everything,” she continued, her fingers clenching the fabric of her jeans. “I trusted him. And now… I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Vivek said softly. “You believed in love. That doesn’t make you foolish.”

The girl let out a shaky breath. “Then why does it hurt so much?”

“Because you loved for real,” he said, his own voice laced with emotion. “And he didn’t.”

Silence stretched between them, filled only by the gentle murmur of the river. After a while, she turned to him, curiosity flickering in her tear-stained eyes.

“Why are you here?” she asked. “Why did you even stop to talk to me?”

Vivek hesitated, then decided to be honest. “I’ve been trying to understand what real love is. I’ve read about it, thought about it, but I’ve never felt it. And then… I saw you sitting here, crying over someone who didn’t deserve you. I don’t know why, but I felt like I needed to talk to you.”

A small, sad smile touched her lips. “And? Did you find any answers?”

“Not yet,” he admitted. “But maybe… you can help me.”

She frowned slightly. “Help you?”

Vivek nodded. “You’ve been in love. Even if it ended badly, you’ve felt something real. I haven’t. If you could tell me what it was like—what it *should* be like—maybe I’d understand.”

The girl studied him, as if searching for any hidden motives. When she found none, she sighed. “You’re strange,” she murmured.

“I get that a lot,” he said with a small smile.

For the first time that evening, a ghost of amusement flickered in her eyes. She extended her hand. “I’m Nisha.”

“Vivek,” he said, shaking her hand gently.

And just like that, a new chapter in their lives began.

---

That night, as Vivek lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he felt something shift inside him. Meeting Nisha had been unexpected, but in a strange way, it felt like fate.

Love was still a mystery, but now, he had someone who might help him understand it.

And maybe—just maybe—he would find something even more valuable along the way.

**(To Be Continued...)**