Two Worlds

Ananya hadn’t planned on falling in love with the mountains. She had simply needed a break—a pause from the rush of her daily life. Her marriage to Veer was comfortable, steady, and safe. They had built a good life together, full of routine and stability. But lately, something had been missing. The quiet yearning she could never quite articulate to him or even herself had grown too loud to ignore. So, she booked a solo trekking trip, craving solitude and space to breathe, far away from the endless noise of deadlines and obligations.

On the second day of her trek, as the mist clung to the peaks, she met him. His name was Ayan, and from the moment they crossed paths, she felt the pull of something unexpected. He was nothing like the people she knew back home. With tousled hair, worn hiking boots, and eyes that held a thousand stories, Ayan seemed to carry the world lightly. He was a traveller in the truest sense—always moving, never staying. His life was a series of fleeting moments, and he seemed content that way.

Their first conversation was brief, exchanged over a shared campfire with other trekkers. But it was enough for Ananya to sense the quiet magnetism that drew her toward him. Ayan spoke of the world as if it were his playground, his heart untethered, his soul unanchored. He didn’t ask too many questions about her life, nor did he offer much about his own. But in the silences between their words, something lingered, something neither of them could ignore.

They kept running into each other after that—on narrow paths winding through forests, on rocky trails that led to breath-taking views. And each time, they lingered a little longer. Their conversations deepened, and with each shared story, Ananya found herself slipping further away from the person she had been when she arrived. Ayan, too, seemed to soften in her presence, drawn to the quiet grace with which she carried herself. 

The mountains became their sanctuary, a world suspended from time where the outside didn’t exist. The days they spent together felt like stolen moments, fragile and fleeting. Ananya could feel something stirring in her, a restlessness she hadn’t acknowledged before. Ayan made her feel alive in ways she had long forgotten—his spontaneity, his ease with the unknown, the way he saw beauty in everything, from the simplest wildflowers to the vastness of the sky.

One evening, after a long day of trekking, they found themselves alone, the others from their group having drifted off to sleep. The fire crackled between them, casting flickering shadows on their faces. Ayan told her about his travels—about the places he had seen, the people he had met, but also the emptiness that came with never belonging anywhere. There was a sadness in his voice, one that she hadn’t noticed before.

Ananya listened quietly, her heart tightening. She told him about her life—her marriage to Veer, the love she still had for him, but also the growing distance between them. She confessed that she felt lost sometimes, like she had forgotten a part of herself along the way. Ayan didn’t say anything for a long time, and when he finally spoke, his words were soft, almost tender. “Sometimes, we don’t realise what we’re searching for until we find it.”

The words floated between them, laced with meaning. Ananya’s breath caught, and in that moment, she knew. She knew that what she felt for Ayan was not just admiration or fleeting attraction. It was something deeper, something that tugged at the very core of her being. But she also knew that this could never be more than a beautiful, fleeting moment in time. She had a life to return to—a life she had chosen, and a love that was steady, if not always thrilling.

The days passed in a blur of stolen glances and lingering touches. They never spoke of the future; they didn’t need to. Both of them knew that this was temporary, that the mountains would not follow them back into the lives they had left behind. But the unspoken longing between them grew heavier, like a storm waiting to break.

On the last morning of the trek, the sky was a soft shade of pink as the sun rose over the peaks. Ananya stood by the edge of the cliff, her heart aching with the knowledge that this was the end. Ayan came up behind her, his presence warm and familiar. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

“I’ll miss this,” she whispered finally, her voice breaking just slightly.

“So will I,” Ayan replied, his voice surprisingly emotional, something he hadn’t allowed himself to show before.

They turned to face each other, the distance between them both huge and yet unbearably close. Ananya wanted to say something, to ask him to stay, to ask if he would ever come back. But she knew better. They were from two different worlds—his, full of movement and freedom; hers, bound by love, commitment, and anchored in responsibility. Asking for more would break the delicate beauty of what they had shared.

Instead, she reached for his hand, holding it for one last time. The weight of his touch sent a wave of longing through her, a sadness for what could never be. Ayan’s eyes were soft, filled with the same unspoken emotion. 

They didn’t say goodbye, because goodbye felt too final. Instead, they stood there, in the silence of the mountains, knowing that what they had found would stay with them long after they parted.

When Ananya returned home, her life resumed as it always had. Veer greeted her with warmth, and she slipped back into the routine of work, of marriage, of the life she had chosen. But something inside her had changed. The mountains, and Ayan, had left their mark. She thought of him often, of his laughter, the way he made the world feel lighter. But most of all, she thought of that moment by the cliff, of the ache that had lodged itself in her heart the day they parted.

And somewhere, out in the world, Ayan kept moving. He travelled to new places, met new people, but he, too, carried that moment with him. He thought of her—of her quiet strength, the way her eyes reflected the mountains when she smiled. And though he continued to wander, a part of him longed for the stillness he had found with her, if only for a little while.

They lived their lives, separate but connected, forever reminded by the echoes of a distant moment that had changed them both in ways they couldn’t fully understand. It was a love that was never meant to last, but one that neither of them would ever forget.

Copyright (c) Pratik Majumdar, 2024. Any article, story, write-up cannot be reproduced in its entirety or in part, without permission. URL links can be used instead

Published by Patmaj

Hi this is me, Pratik. I love to read, write, listen to music, watch movies, travel and enjoy great food. Like a whole lot of us I guess. Will keep posting my short stories and other writings out here on a regular basis (hopefully) and (hopefully again) all of you will enjoy them writings...

8 thoughts on “Two Worlds

    1. Thank you so much….yes even I felt this story could be extended a bit more…but I also feel it is nice to keep it short and leave the reader with the feeling …”what if…” 🙂

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  1. So beautifuly written !!!

    Surprisingly while reading your stories all of a sudden some song pops up in my mind… This time it was “Na tum hame jaano…. na hum tumhe jaane”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much your lovely words…..yes sometimes there bits of music or a song that often comes to our mind while reading a story….I take this as a huge compliment ….thank you again !!!

      Liked by 1 person

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