IRA

There was a boy named Aarav.

One evening, Aarav was walking on the terrace, his mind heavy with worries about studies, the fear of not being good enough, and the loneliness of having no close friends to share little moments with. He felt completely alone.

Wanting a break from his thoughts, he decided to go to the temple for some peace.

As soon as he stepped inside, the atmosphere felt different. The soft smoke of incense filled the air, the sound of bells echoed through the stone walls. Aarav walked along the path, and when he reached the main sanctum, he stopped.

There she was.
A girl, bowing before the deity, her hands folded, her lips moving in prayer. She was dressed in a simple white chudidhar, the kind of white that made her look almost like a piece of the temple itself, pure, quiet, untouched by the chaos of the world. A few strands of hair had fallen over her face, making her look even softer.

Aarav forgot his burden in that instant. The stress, the loneliness, the endless questions, everything fell away. He stood still, as if time itself had pressed pause. His eyes stayed on her, drawn not only by her beauty but by the way she prayed.

Aarav froze when she came out of the temple, her dupatta sliding over the stone floor. She passed by him, leaving his heart restless. A rickshaw waited outside. She got in, still carrying the calm of her prayer. Aarav just watched until the rickshaw vanished down the road.

That night, he couldn’t shake the image of her, the white chudidhar, the strands of hair across her face, the stillness she carried like a flame in the wind. He knew nothing about her, not even her name, and yet she felt like the answer to a question he hadn’t known how to ask.

The next evening, he went back to the temple, his heart beating faster than the bells that swung in the archway. He looked around, scanning every corner, but she was nowhere to be seen. A pinch of disappointment pressed him low, until, five minutes later, he saw her. She was walking slowly around the temple, circling it with folded hands, lost in prayer.

Aarav began to walk too, keeping behind her at a quiet distance. He didn’t want to disturb her, didn’t even want her to notice. All he wished was to stay close. After her final bow before the deity, she left once more, Aarav remained behind, watching the door, knowing he had to wait for another day. But this time, he promised himself, no matter how small, he would speak to her. Even a single word would be enough.

The next day came with the beginning of Navarathri. The temple was brighter than ever, crowded with devotees, the air thick with fragrance and chantings. Aarav entered with anticipation in his eyes, and there she was, earlier than him this time. She was kneeling by the row of divas, lighting them one by one.

For a moment, Aarav thought the temple had never looked more beautiful, hundreds of lamps glowed across the archway, yet none of them compared to her. She was the quietest light, and somehow the brightest.

He stayed near her, moving quietly from corner to corner, half in prayer, half in awe. As the lamps burned steadily around them, he felt it,

today he had to say something. Even if it was just a word, even if it was nothing more than a whisper in the air. While his thoughts stumbled over words, one of the lamps flickered and gave in to the wind, its little flame dying out.

Aarav moved closer, cupped his hand around it, and slowly made it burn again.

She turned, startled, her eyes meeting his for the very first time.

"Thank you", she said softly.

Aarav froze, Surprised that she had spoken at all. Then, almost without thinking, he smiled and asked…

Why are you lighting so many divas?

She looked back at the rows of lamps, her face lit in their golden glow.
she said, It brings positivity, and peace throughout the temple.

Aarav’s tongue moved faster than his thoughts.

He whispered, for positivity and peace, you’re enough. Why all these divas?

She turned back to him, her brows rising, as if his words had crossed some invisible line.

He blinked, realizing, and stumbled quickly, 

Sorry, I mean… I’ve been watching you these past two days. Every evening, you come here and pray with such devotion. And somehow… that alone feels like it fills the temple with peace.

Her eyes lingered on him now, half curious, half questioning.
So, she said, you’ve been following me since two days?

Aarav shook his head, nervous, his words tumbling out.
No… not following. I came here for the temple, for some calm. But each time I saw you praying, your devotion, your stillness, it… it caught me. I couldn’t look away. I was struck, just… admiring you. That’s all.

For the first time, she smiled and in that moment, it burned brighter in his heart than any divas surrounding them.

After lighting the last lamp, she straightened, Dusted her hands gently, and walked toward the sanctum,  bowed once more in prayer and then turned to leave. He followed her like his feet no longer knew another direction.

 She paused at the gate, looking at the empty streets, a trace of fear on her face,  "No autos" she murmured.

Aarav looked down the road, “At this hour, autos are rare. Maybe too late for them to come” . To ease the worry on her face, he asked, “Where do you need to go?”

“To my hostel, near DPS, about three maybe four kilometres.”  she replied.

“That’s barely four,” he said, with a faint smile. “We’ll walk. I’ll come with you.”

For a moment, she hesitated,  her eyes studying him. But then she gave a little nod, her voice warm but shy. “Thank you. Again.”

So they began walking side by side. The road was empty, carrying only the sound of their footsteps and the cold breeze, with their shadows stretching along the pavement.

After a while, she broke the silence. “What is your name?”

He looked at her, surprised. “Me? Aarav. And you?”

She smiled softly. “I’m Ira.”

the moment he heard it - IRA, he felt the name was as beautiful as she was.

As they walked, Aarav kept repeating her name in his head, Ira. The name was so beautiful, like the moon, so soft and memorable.

So, Ira… he said at last, his voice unsure, “how come you’re so spiritual" ?

She turned a little, with a soft smile

“I don’t have many friends to talk to.

So when I feel low, when I feel incomplete… I come here."

Her words sank deep in him, feeling the weight of it.

She too has no one… just like me.

He stopped for a second, then asked, feeling he had to speak, right then, no matter what.

“Ira… will you be my friend?”

She looked at him, startled. “What?”

His heart tripped. “I–I mean… only if you want to. I just thought"

But she smiled, “I thought we’re already friends,” she said.

He felt a quiet ease, relief and joy, as their soft laughter mingled with the night air.

And maybe, just maybe, friendship is where every new story begins.