As the train pulled out of Warangal, Rishi stood by the doorway, watching his fellow passengers step onto the platform one by one. The warm farewell smiles, brief waves, and soft voices of goodbye lingered in the air as the Tamil Nadu Express picked up speed again.
He turned back, walking slowly through the now quieter coach.
"Thank you all... for everything," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "You've made this journey easier... richer."
With the coach now half-empty, the silence felt different—not lonely, but peaceful. Restful, like a sigh after a long conversation.
A little while later, Rishi noticed Neeranjana sitting near the window, her notebook resting on her lap. She had been quiet for a while, occasionally scribbling, occasionally staring out as if waiting for words to find her.
"Rishi," she called softly.
He looked up, curious.
"May I ask something?"
He nodded.
"You've been... quiet. Distant, even when you smile. Like you're carrying something heavy."
Rishi hesitated, then sat across from her.
"I guess I am," he admitted. "It's not anything I can name exactly. Just... distance. From home. From myself. From who I thought I was. This trip is making me realize I've been closed off. Numb. But meeting all of you—it's like... a door cracked open."
Neeranjana offered a gentle smile. "Sometimes, journeys don't just take us to places. They bring us back to ourselves."
Rishi nodded slowly. "Yeah. Maybe that's what's happening."
After a pause, he noticed her notebook again.
"What are you writing?"
"A speech," she said, glancing down. "For my college reunion in Chennai."
"A speech?" he asked, raising a brow. "Isn't it just one day? Most people go, talk casually, take selfies, and leave."
She laughed lightly. "Maybe. But... we all get one day to meet those who knew us before life changed us. Before work, marriage, disappointments, and responsibilities. I want to make that moment count. I want to say something meaningful."
She looked down, frustration creeping into her voice. "The words won't come, though. I want to speak in Tamil — at least part of it. I studied there for four years in Hindi Medium but those classmates with me they are tamilans. Even though I'm not fluent, it's a way to honour them. My people. But I can't seem to get it right."
Rishi smiled. "Let's do it together. Say it in English — I'll help you shape it like Tamil. Emotion matters more than grammar."
Neeranjana's face brightened. She flipped to a blank page and read aloud a few lines.
"I want to say: 'We've all grown, but something in us hasn't changed — the friendship.'"
Rishi nodded. "In Tamil, we'd say something like, 'We've grown up, but one corner of our heart never changed — that's our friendship.' Keep it simple. It's not the language; it's the truth behind it."
Encouraged, she began reading more from her draft. Her voice grew steady as she spoke a passage she had written and rewritten many times:
"I am not the only one… I am not the only story… One is not the only one.
We are all stories — of different kinds, different colours and hues.
We are all stars… or star dust.
We are stories that have started and are being written every day by the decisions we make.
We meet so many people… some pass by.
But some stories get etched in your life — to make you think, to inspire you, to show you the other side of life — of courage, of faith.
And you come out of it learning something about strength."
She paused, then added with a quiet breath:
"One is one story.
Sometimes I wonder… have I inspired anyone?
My story is at a stage now where writing the next page…
Requires thought, reflection, and the right words.
The story of our lives... is to be continued."
Rishi sat in silence for a moment, moved by her honesty and the quiet power of her words.
He spoke gently. "That's more than a speech, Neeranjana. That's a mirror. People won't just hear it… they'll see themselves in it."
She looked down, a shy smile touching her lips.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Outside, the evening light poured across the fields, golden and endless. The Tamil Nadu Express surged ahead, but inside, the stories were beginning to settle — not to end, but to become chapters worth remembering.
And Rishi knew: this journey wasn't just about trains and stations. It was about rediscovery — of others, of truths, and of himself.