Chapter 1 =THE THOUGHT THAT REFUSED TO DISAPPEAR
CHAPTER 1
THE THOUGHT THAT REFUSED TO DISAPPEAR
Some thoughts are not born in a single day.
They live somewhere inside us for years, quietly growing.
A thought comes.
It stays there.
We forget about it.
And then, one day, it suddenly comes back—
sometimes through a song,
sometimes through a scene,
and sometimes through a small incident in that person's life.
On the surface, we do nothing.
But somewhere inside, we keep collecting that thought, little by little.
And I had been collecting so many such thoughts inside me.
Something like that was happening to me today.
But this wasn't something new.
It had been happening to me for years.
I had never truly left that thought somewhere in the past.
I had been living it.
The idea of going back in time and changing that entire situation was still as alive in my mind as it had always been.
Sometimes I would think—
What if I could turn back time?
What if I could change a particular moment?
What if I could actually go back into the past?
What would I change?
And every time, the answer would be different.
But somewhere behind all those answers, there was always the same face—
Namjoon.
I had told myself so many times that if I ever went back into the past, I would go for him.
What I would do there, where I would go, whom I would meet, what I would try to change—
so many scenes kept playing in front of my eyes.
It wasn't just something I thought about.
It existed in every breath I took.
I lived it every day.
I had written so much about him before.
So many poems.
So many imagined situations.
Sometimes, even in my poems, I created a world—
a world where there was only him and me.
Where his name stood beside mine.
Where he and I had a story of our own.
Where every page of a book carried our little world.
A world where something impossible in reality could actually be possible.
I had already lived all of those things through words.
And something similar was happening again today—
August 26, 2026.
Today, I had to answer a Daily Prompt.
The question was simple—
“Which fictional world would be the most fun to vacation in?”
If I could spend a vacation in any fictional world, which world would I choose?
I thought about it.
And once again, my answer went back to him.
I didn't choose a beautiful magical kingdom.
I didn't choose some completely different universe.
I chose—
Namjoon's world.
But the world I imagined wasn't like any other fictional world.
I didn't simply want to go there for a vacation.
I wanted to make one small thing possible there—
something that was impossible in my present reality.
I would go back into the past...
Before that girl entered his life.
And if I could really change something there, I would have only one wish—
to write his name beside mine.
Kim Namjoon.
Maybe I would be his girlfriend.
Maybe his wife.
Maybe our relationship would remain hidden from the world.
The world would know him.
It would know his music.
His dreams.
His struggles.
But me?
No one would know me.
Because our relationship would belong only to us.
And from that imagination, a very real conversation began taking shape in front of my eyes...
Today, after so many days, he had called.
“I’m coming home.”
He hadn't told me exactly when he would arrive.
But I had already made my own guess—
ten, eleven, or perhaps sometime around midnight.
How late has it gotten?
He still hasn't come.
It's already midnight.
At least, that's what the clock said.
But somewhere in my heart, I still felt that he would come.
We hadn't seen each other face-to-face for at least seven or eight months.
Because of that, time seemed to move painfully slowly.
I kept looking at the clock on the wall.
Ten.
Then eleven.
And before I knew it, midnight was almost there.
I kept wondering—
Would he come?
Or would I not get to see him tonight either?
Finally, unable to sit with that restlessness anymore, I made myself a coffee.
With the warm mug in my hands, I came and sat on the sofa.
On the television in front of me, his song “Wild Flower” was playing.
I loved that song more than I could explain.
I took a sip of coffee and kept looking at the screen.
His face was right there in the song.
And suddenly—
the doorbell rang.
I froze for a moment.
Who could possibly be making a delivery at midnight?
Maybe a friend.
Maybe a relative.
And if the person standing outside wasn't Namjoon, how was I supposed to send them away at this hour?
That thought started spinning around in my head like a wheel.
I placed the coffee mug on the table and walked towards the door.
I opened it.
And there he was—
Namjoon.
For a few seconds, I simply stared at him, holding my breath.
“Namjoon... you?”
He smiled softly, with that same calm, gentle expression he always carried.
“Why? Can't I come?”
“No... I mean, you were supposed to come late, weren't you?”
“My work finished early, so I left.”
He paused, tilted his head slightly, and smiled.
“If you want, I can go back and come at the time you expected.”
“No!”
Without even thinking, I wrapped my arms around him.
He naturally held me close.
“Okay, okay... let me at least come inside first. Why are you in such a hurry?”
I slowly let him go.
“Yes. Come in.”
He handed me his bag.
The moment I lifted it, I realised it was much heavier than usual.
Maybe it was filled with papers for his new songs.
Or books.
He casually took off his shoes and said,
“Are you going to stand there all night? Are we going inside or not?”
“Yes. Let's go.”
He came inside.
There was still a trace of the day's exhaustion on his face, the kind that came from spending hours in the studio.
There were faint shadows beneath his eyes.
But the moment he saw me, that familiar, reassuring smile appeared on his face.
I looked at him carefully.
“You're really tired, aren't you?”
“Hmm... a little.”
“Exactly a little, or a lot?”
“A lot.”
He dropped his shoulders and leaned back comfortably on the sofa.
I went to get some water and came back.
Sitting beside him, I asked,
“So... how were these seven or eight months?”
He looked out towards the dark sky through the window for a few moments.
“To be honest? Some days felt suffocating... Life was mostly happening between the corners of the studio and piles of paper.”
He paused.
“But there were good days too.”
“Boring?”
“No. Not boring.”
He smiled faintly.
“I have six people around me. How could the days be boring?”
Then he looked away for a moment.
“But you know how it is... sometimes everything is happening inside your own head. The thoughts just keep going, and you don't even realise how quickly time passes.”
“Then why were they good?”
He turned towards me.
A small, mischievous smile appeared on his lips.
“Because I knew someone was back here getting annoyed waiting for me.”
I gave him a light push.
“Then why did you come here? Go back. I get annoyed because of you.”
“Should I go, Aksu? Really?”
“No...”
I was only saying it.
Just then, his eyes fell on the coffee mug sitting on the table.
“Oh, wow... you had coffee today without me?”
“Yes. I wasn't even sure when you would come. Sitting alone and waiting had made my head go numb, so I made one.”
“Hmm... fair enough.”
He sat quietly for a few moments.
I could tell he was thinking something from the way his eyes moved.
Then he adjusted his shirt slightly.
“Come here.”
“Why?”
“Just come.”
I moved closer and sat beside him.
I had already paused his song on the television.
He took his eyes away from the screen and looked directly into mine.
“Akshata.”
“What?”
“Whenever I come home like this... why is this song always playing in our house?”
“Because I find the real you in your voice.”
“Can't you listen to something else?”
“I can. But in this song, you tell the world everything that's inside you. That's why it feels closer to me.”
He looked at me silently for a few moments.
The way he looked at something when he was reading a poem or checking a draft.
Then he said softly,
“You think too deeply sometimes.”
“I don't.”
“You do.”
He smiled.
“I can see it in your eyes.”
He stood up.
“I'm going to freshen up. Until then, make coffee for both of us.”
“Okay.”
He walked inside.
I turned towards the kitchen and started making coffee.
A while later, he came back after freshening up.
The tension on his face had eased considerably.
“Akshata, is the coffee ready?”
“Yes.”
“Then come here.”
I went back and sat beside him.
He looked at me.
“Why are you sitting so far away? Come closer.”
I moved a little closer.
He took my hand into his and held it firmly.
“Hmm... that's better.”
For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock.
He seemed like he wanted to say something.
I could feel it from the restlessness in his eyes.
Then he took a slow breath.
“There’s something I want to tell you today.”
A thought immediately crossed my mind.
“Did you write a new song today?”
He smiled in that quiet way of his.
“No. Not every time can be about a new song.”
“Sometimes life itself becomes more complicated than a song.”
“Then what happened today?”
He paused.
His head lowered slightly.
“Today... the same topic came up again.”
“What topic?”
“About my personal life... about relationships.”
I became a little more alert.
“Oh... then?”
“At first, I stayed quiet like I always do. I thought the conversation would pass, just like it always does.”
“But today they kept asking more and more.”
He paused.
“And suddenly I realised... there is no point in staying silent or hiding every single time.”
“The truth has to be accepted.”
I held my breath.
“You told them?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“That there is someone in my life.”
A shiver went through me.
Without thinking, I hugged him.
“Really, Namjoon? You actually said that?”
He held me tightly.
“Do you still doubt my words?”
“No...”
I pulled back slightly.
“But I just can't believe it.”
“You actually admitted it in front of everyone?”
“Yes.”
“This time, I didn't think about what would happen afterwards. I just said what I truly felt.”
“They must have asked her name, right?”
He looked into my eyes.
A deep, gentle smile appeared on his face.
“You really don't know what I said?”
“Tell me properly.”
“I told them... the person in my life, apart from these six people, there is one more person whom I consider my greatest source of strength.”
He pointed towards me.
“And that person is no one else... she's standing right here.”
I went completely still.
“Namjoon... what are you saying?”
“Is this real, or are you joking?”
“Would I ever joke about our relationship like that?”
His voice became completely serious.
“Akshata.”
“But... my name?”
“You actually said my name?”
“Yes.”
“Because if someone's life is caught in every line I write, in every piece I create, it's yours.”
“So why should I hide it?”
Tears of happiness began falling from my eyes.
I didn't know what to say.
I lowered my head and simply sat there.
He watched me quietly.
Then he gently held my face between both his hands.
“Akshata... why are you crying like this?”
“I told you. I only said what was true.”
I tried to hold back a sob.
“I'm scared, yaar...”
“Of your world.”
“Of the way people will look at us.”
He gently brushed his fingers beneath my eyes.
“People's job is to talk.”
“But if I start living in fear of the world, what meaning would there be in my existence?”
“My self-respect, my breath, and my work—those are where I belong.”
“You are my strength, not my weakness.”
I hugged him again.
Those few words somehow gave meaning to years of struggle, to the lessons my father had taught me, and to every tear I had ever cried.
For a while, we simply stayed like that.
All the restlessness in the room seemed to dissolve.
Then, in his usual light-hearted way, he changed the subject.
“Okay, enough of that.”
“Now tell me—what are we eating tonight?”
“I'm hungry.”
“Did you make something, or do I have to make something?”
I wiped my tears and smiled.
“You just said something that huge.”
“So today I'm not cooking.”
“Let's order something from outside.”
He laughed.
“Okay.”
“Then we'll order something you like.”
“Maybe it'll make that crying face of yours smile again.”
We sat together and ordered dinner.
When the food arrived, he served it onto our plates.
We talked and ate together.
After dinner, I looked at the clock.
It was already past three in the morning.
He looked at me.
“Akshata... I have to leave for a little while now.”
I looked up suddenly.
“Where are you going now?”
“It's completely night outside.”
“I have some work at the studio.”
“There’s an important meeting in the morning.”
“Everyone must be there by now.”
“I'll go there and rest for a while.”
I immediately held his hand.
“Don't go.”
“Stay here for a little while.”
He looked at me for a few moments.
There was an unnamed pull in his eyes.
But there was responsibility there too.
He smiled softly.
“Okay.”
“Where else would I run from the place that feels like my real home?”
“I'll leave in the morning.”
The heaviness in my heart lifted.
I went with him to the bed so he could rest.
He lay down beside me and quietly asked,
“Can you finally sleep peacefully now?”
I rested my head on his shoulder.
“Hmm... now I feel completely calm.”
That night, in that quiet room, it felt as if a circle in my life had finally completed itself.
But this was only a fantasy.
An imagination.
A conversation.
A world my mind had created in front of me for a few hours.
I had written that conversation.
I had read it throughout the day.
I had kept the scene alive in front of my eyes.
And somewhere inside it, I had forgotten myself.
Night came.
And once again, I found myself sitting with the same thought.
Beside the window.
Looking up at the sky.
One thought kept circling through my mind—
What if this really happened?
What if I actually got such a chance?
What if I could go back in time?
And within a few moments, my own reflection came and sat in front of me.
It smiled softly.
I looked at it.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Nothing... I'm just laughing.”
“Oh, really?”
My reflection smiled again.
Then it began asking me questions.
“You really want to go there?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I really want to go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“How many years back will you go?”
“Ten years?”
“Fifteen?”
“How far back are you actually going?”
I stayed quiet for a moment.
“And when you go that far back, how old will you be?”
I kept looking at it.
“And why do you want to go back?”
“I’m not going to tell you why I want to go back.”
“But I want to go.”
“But you don't even know when you'll go.”
“You don't know whether you'll ever get such a chance.”
My reflection smiled again.
“Whether you get the chance or not is a different question.”
“But when you go that many years back, what will your age be?”
“What will you be like?”
“Have you ever thought about that?”
“No.”
“Then think about it.”
I started thinking.
I tried to calculate everything in my head.
And slowly, a number appeared in front of me.
Nine.
I would be nine years old.
A little girl going back to 2009.
My reflection smiled at me again.
“Try to remember yourself at nine.”
“What were you like?”
“Could you make your own decisions?”
“Were you capable of moving forward on your own?”
I slowly shook my head.
“No.”
My reflection stayed quiet for a few moments.
Then it asked again,
“Then what are you going to do there?”
“What happened in Namjoon's life that is forcing you to go eighteen years back?”
“I'm not telling you that.”
“I know.”
My reflection smiled softly.
“You know, right?”
“Keep it to yourself.”
“I will.”
“Akshata, thinking about things like this is easy.”
“But actually going there and surviving is very difficult.”
I listened quietly.
“You are twenty-seven now.”
“You want to go eighteen years back.”
“You will be nine years old.”
“And most importantly—he isn't even from your country.”
“You live in India.”
“He is from Korea.”
“You don't know his language.”
“You don't know their culture.”
“So how are you going to survive?”
I stayed quiet for a few moments.
“I don't know.”
“But I will go.”
“I will survive.”
“However it happens, I'll manage.”
My reflection laughed again.
“You're crazy.”
I kept looking at it.
“You're still running after him.”
“Your life has changed so much.”
“You've made so many decisions.”
“They may have been right.”
“They may have been wrong.”
“But somewhere behind every decision, there was Namjoon.”
“No matter how much you deny it, you can't hide that from me.”
I quietly said,
“Yes.”
“He was.”
My reflection kept looking at me.
“And even today, you're still running after him?”
I said nothing.
“You stay awake so many nights for him.”
“You cry so many nights.”
“You know he will never be yours.”
“You've known that from the very first day.”
“Then why are you still holding on to this stubbornness?”
“Your stubbornness still hasn't gone away.”
I smiled softly.
“Yes.”
“I am stubborn.”
“And if I don't fulfil my own wishes, then who will?”
“Yes... I still cry for him.”
“I stay awake at night.”
“I do so many things that I know I shouldn't.”
“And I've known from the very first day I saw him that he would never be mine.”
“It's been ten years since I first saw him.”
“In a few days, he'll turn thirty-two.”
“And even now, I'm still running after him.”
“Because I like chasing things that I know I'll never have.”
“Maybe someday, somehow, I'll stand in front of him.”
“I will make myself into someone who can.”
“I don't know whether I'll actually be able to.”
“But I will.”
My reflection looked at me for a few moments.
Then it said softly,
“Then go ahead.”
“Build yourself.”
“Why do you keep thinking about going back into the past?”
“Nothing is going to happen there.”
I looked at it.
“Yes.”
“I'll build myself.”
“But I'll still go back.”
“And if I can change something...”
“I will.”
My reflection became quiet.
I became quiet too.
The sky outside the window remained the same.
The night remained the same.
But something inside me had changed.
This was no longer just a thought.
It had become a stubborn desire.
A question.
An impossible possibility.
The number appeared before my eyes once again—
Nine.
Nine-year-old me.
Eighteen years back.
And beyond all those questions—
Namjoon.
I asked myself one final question.
What if I really get the chance?
The answer came quietly from somewhere deep inside me.
I will go.
And once again, my reflection appeared in front of me and asked,
“Are you thinking about going back again and again because you want to write his name beside yours?”
“No.”
“And why should I tell you that?”
“I want to go back.”
My reflection looked at me for a moment.
Then it smiled.
“You've gone crazy.”
“For Namjoon?”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
“I have.”
And while thinking about all of this, I didn't even realise when sleep finally found me.
