Chapter 1
The rain had been falling since afternoon over Mahape rather whole Navi Mumbai
Even from the first floor of LTI, the entire IT park looked dull and grey. Water droplets slowly slid down the glass windows while hundreds of employees sat inside under bright white lights, pretending to be busy on a Monday evening.
Ankit sat quietly in his cubicle staring at an SAP screen.
A half-written ABAP program was open in front of him.
He looked at the code for almost thirty seconds without typing anything.
Around him, the office was noisy in its usual way.
Most of the people in his project were girls from testing and support teams. They laughed loudly, discussed TV serials, shared snacks, talked about shopping plans and weekend movies. Nobody really talked to Ankit unless there was work.
And honestly, even he had stopped trying.
He had become one of those silent office people.
The kind everyone notices but nobody really knows.
Two cubicles away, a girl from testing asked loudly, "Ankit, bug fix kiya?"
"Yes," he replied softly without looking up.
"Okay."
Just that.
Conversation over.
He went back to staring at the monitor.
His inbox had 23 unread mails.
Production issues.
Client escalations.
The usual life of an SAP ABAP developer.
But today his mind wasn't in office.
Actually, for the last one year, his mind was nowhere.
His phone lay next to the keyboard. Silent.
No messages.
No missed calls.
No "Good Morning :)" from Shweta anymore.
That habit still hurt him the most.
For more than six years, she had been part of every single day of his life.
From college lectures in 2005 to late-night calls after college ended.
Now suddenly nothing.
Like someone had deleted an entire part of his life.
A chair rolled near his cubicle.
Mirza.
Only person in office Ankit spoke to properly.
Mirza dropped into the next chair with a tired expression.
"Bhai, canteen?"
Ankit shook his head.
"Not hungry."
"Tu kab hungry hota hai?"
Ankit gave a small smile.
Mirza looked at the SAP screen.
"Still on same program?"
"Hm."
"Client ka issue hai kya?"
"F***ing IDoc issue"
Mirza nodded and stretched his arms.
For a few seconds both sat silently while office noise continued around them.
Then Mirza spoke casually.
"Stuck on Issue or Still thinking about her?"
Ankit didn't answer immediately.
Outside the window, rainwater flowed down the glass in crooked lines.
Finally he said quietly, "I saw her Facebook post yesterday."
Mirza sighed.
"Again?"
"Yeah with my fake id, She uploaded new photos."
"With the new guy?"
Ankit looked down at the keyboard.
"I don't know if he's her boyfriend."
"Par hai koi."
That line hit harder because it was probably true.
Ankit leaned back in his chair slowly.
He remembered the first time he met Shweta in engineering college in 2005.
First year.
She had joined his group as they were making fun of faculties and she didn't knew anyone there.
That was it.
Such a small beginning for something that later became his entire world.
Back then everything felt easy.
Movies on weekends.
Cheap Maggie in Canteen.
Bunking practicals.
Long bike rides.
Then college ended.
Life changed.
Shweta moved to Delhi for her Job.
Ankit's joining was in Chennai and then final posting in Mumbai.
At first they managed it well.
Calls every night.
Long chats.
Occasional meetings.
But slowly distance started becoming heavier.
From 2009 to 2011 they barely met a few times in a year.
Airports became emotional.
Train stations became painful.
Every goodbye felt strange.
Still Ankit believed love was enough.
He was wrong.
Mirza broke his thoughts.
"Kya bola tha breakup ke time?"
Ankit stayed quiet for a few seconds.
The cafeteria noise faded somewhere into the background while he stared silently at the Pepsi bottle in his hand.
Then he answered softly.
"'Just leave me alone... you and I were never a match.'"
Mirza frowned.
"And?"
Ankit smiled faintly.
Not a happy smile.
The kind people give when remembering something that broke them long ago.
"She said she was forcing herself for years."
Mirza stayed silent.
Ankit continued quietly.
"Like... what we had was never really love for her."
He paused briefly.
"Maybe it was just habit."
Those words sounded heavier than anger.
Because hatred still carries emotion.
But habit?
Habit ends easily.
Like changing routines.
Like deleting old messages.
Mirza looked at him carefully.
"After six years?"
Ankit nodded slowly.
"The last thing she said was..."
He swallowed once.
"'If you can't live without me then just die.'"
For a few moments neither spoke.
Then Mirza shook his head slowly.
"Six years yaar..."
Ankit looked away with tears slowly gathering in his eyes.
And somewhere deep inside him, the hardest thing to accept was not that Shweta left.
It was the reality that he had spent so many years loving someone completely...
...who never truly loved him at all.
Nearby, the girls in the next cubicle suddenly burst into loud laughter again. Someone had opened Facebook in office and was showing photos from a team outing.
One of them glanced toward Ankit briefly and then looked away again.
He was used to it now.
Office friendships needed energy.
Ankit had none left.
Mirza looked at him carefully.
"You know what your problem is?"
"Hm?"
"Tu office mein body leke aata hai bas. Mind toh kahin aur hai."
Ankit smirked faintly.
Maybe that was true.
Even while writing code, half his brain stayed trapped in old memories.
Shweta laughing on phone calls.
Shweta getting angry when he forgot important dates.
Shweta crying softly once at Delhi airport before leaving.
He still remembered that moment clearly.
Funny thing was - at that time he thought love like that could never end.
Now he understood people change quietly.
Without warning.
Without villains.
Mirza suddenly stood up.
"Chal peene chale? Tu Colddrink le lena."
"Escalation ho jayega."
"Hone de."
Ankit finally locked his system and stood up slowly.
Both walked toward the lift lobby.
Outside the building, Mahape roads were wet and shining under streetlights. Office buses lined up near the gate while tired employees walked around holding umbrellas.
For a brief moment that day, Ankit felt slightly lighter.
Not happy.
Just less heavy.
Sometimes that was just enough.7
