While the cab drove through the jam-packed roads of Mumbai, towards the airport, I absently stared at the bracelet on my wrist; the one which Darshan gifted me when we went on our date, and said it belonged to his mom. Twirling it around my wrist, I looked at the roads, thoughtfully, as I thought about Darshan. In my possession, I had a bracelet that didn't belong to me, and I didn't want to keep it with me; I couldn't simply leave the country, and exist peacefully when that bit undone. Roughly, I still had around four hours left until the flight to Singapore arrived, and I was beyond determined to leave with a contented heart.

"Bhaiya, can you take the second left from here?", I spoke up, quickly. "But that's not the route to the airport", the driver said, looking at me through the rear-view mirror. "I know. I need to meet someone. It won't take too long. Just take the turn", I said, and he followed my instructions, turning in the direction of Darshan's building.

The cab halted in front of his building, and fortunately, he was downstairs, that morning, beside the vegetable-cart, with his volume turned all the way down. Nervously, I stepped out of the cab, clenching the hem of the oversized top I wore and stood my ground, as we exchanged hesitant glances at each other. Rubbing the side of his neck, he staggered his way towards me and I looked to my sides, as I clasped my hands together, tightly; it was a struggle to look in his direction, for every time I looked at him, I thought I'd break out into a cry. He stood a short distance away from me, but was still so far. It's true when they say that when people shove you out of their lives, no matter how close they stand with you, an unmovable distance shall always exist.

He cleared his throat, awkwardly, and I cracked my knuckles, anxiously. He breathed out, audibly, and I took a deep breath in, silently. He licked his lower lip, and I swallowed hard. We looked at each other, but the moment our eyes collided, we dragged our gaze away. It was hard, and painful. We were lost, and unusually silent. "I'm sorry I disturbed you", I apologized, emotionlessly, and broke the cold silence between us. "Is everything okay?", Darshan questioned, gently. "How does it matter, now?", I smiled, achingly, staring at the bricked ground beneath my eyes. "I wanted to return something that belongs to you", I whispered, and fidgeted with the bracelet on my wrist, slowly. "Your mom's bracelet", I said, as I battled with the bracelet, which was securely wound around my wrist. "I'm sorry. One minute", I whispered, almost breathlessly, and thrived to tug the bracelet out of my wrist, but it was a challenge with one hand. Within moments, tears crept up and settled down on the waterline of my eyes, as a wind of reality brushed past me, rougher than ever – we were not together, anymore. As tears blurred my vision, I clenched my teeth together, holding back the breakdown, and felt a painful tightness down my throat. The stubborn bracelet simply made things worse, and within a blink of my eyes, a stream of tears tumbled out of my eyes; I hated how emotionally weak I was before him.

"I'll do it", Darshan offered, and took one step towards me. Without arguing, I extended my arm forward, exposing my wrist, and hung my head low, as I briskly swept the tears off my face in silence. The hands that once secured the bracelet around my wrist were the hands to snatch it away from me, that morning, and it broke my broken heart into smaller pieces, but I simply hid behind the mask. "Thank you", Darshan said in a hush, taking the bracelet, and I stared at my empty wrist for a moment of time, before holding it against my chest. We stood midst an air of awkward silence for a long, long while, until he disrupted the stillness with his words. "You must be running late for work", he said, awkwardly. "No. Not at all", I said, looking at him. "But I'm getting late for my flight. I need to go", I forced a smile at him, and turned around, away from him, clenching the car-door's handle. "Flight?", his voice forced me to stand still. "I'm off to Singapore", I said, with my back facing him, because I was certain I couldn't look into the sudden dimness in his eyes. "I have a flight to catch in two hours", I informed him, when he remained silent for a little longer than I thought he would. "Oh...good luck. Safe flight", he said, sounding blank, and a drop of tear fell out of my eyes; thank God I didn't face him. Without uttering another word, I hopped inside the cab.

"Bhaiya, drive to the airport", I said in a hoarse quiver, and looked down at my lap, while I still caught glimpses of him from the corner of my eye; with his shoulders hung down, he hopelessly stared at the cab, expectantly, as though he waited for me to look in his direction. But I didn't look in his direction; he belonged to the past and I didn't want to look back. With a wounded heart, I raced away from him, stranding him alone; I didn't know whom I was punishing – him, or myself.

Thirty minutes before boarding my flight to Singapore, my iPhone beeped in my hand and despite the pain that stabbed my heart, I managed to smile at my screen; it was an incoming call from Mom. "Hi", I whispered, softly and gratefully, seconds after answering the call. "Did you board your flight?", mom questioned, coldly. "Nope. Thirty more minutes left", I answered her. "Ok", she said, and fell silent. "I knew you would call me up", I informed. "Hmm", she answered, uninterestedly. "You had breakfast?", I asked her. "I'm full. You fed me with betrayal, so I'm not hungry!", she taunted, dramatically. "Mom, I'm sorry! I'm just---I'm not happy, and I don't want to meet you when I'm not happy because I'll make you sad. Please, understand. I know I'm such a bad daughter, and I'm sorry. I'll apologize for the rest of my life, but don't be mad at me. I don't have anyone, other than you, and if you block my number, do I talk to the walls?", I whined, with a frown. "Don't talk to the walls. You're already such a crack-case", mom lightly said, bringing a smile on my face. "I'm your daughter, and it runs our blood!", I said back. "Don't talk too much. I'll block you, again", she warned.

"I shouldn't have taught you so much about technology. You're using it against me now", I rolled my eyes, with a smile. "Stop taking credits for everything. You did not teach me how to block numbers. That boy who lives next door, asked me if he could call his girlfriend up from my phone because she blocked his number. So, I told him that if he teaches me how to block numbers, I'll let him call his girlfriend", mom narrated. "How many times did you block Pops?", I giggled. "If I block him or not, what's the difference? It's the same thing. Does he even call me?", mom asked, flatly, making me laugh harder. "You don't laugh too much, okay. Once you reach Singapore, you'll forget about me, too. Then, like a madwoman, I'll have to talk to the walls", mom chided. "That's why I always told you to have a pet dog", I shrugged. "No need. You're equivalent to two!", she said. "Mom, OMG, that's so mean!", I exclaimed. "And what will I do with a pet dog? Bark with it, or what? Stupid", she muttered under her breath. "You're barking now, just FYI", I said. "Call me a dog now!", she stated. "Oh God! I'm sorry, but I give up. I cannot argue with you. You win", I breathed out, slumping down on the cold bench.

"But come back soon", slowly, she said and I smiled. "Stay within your limits. I'm not there with you, but God is watching, remember that", she uttered her usual dialogues. "Okay, okay", I laughed, softly. "Don't forget about our culture. People are open-minded there, but you don't get too free, understand? I'm trusting you, don't break it", she was one typical Indian mother. "Oh my God, okay!", I stressed on my words. "And...be you. Don't be anyone else, but you. You're a strong, independent and bold girl; stay the same. It's going to be hard, but I know you'll do it. When it's dark, remember that stars can shine only in darkness. When you fail, remember to learn from your mistakes and success tastes better only after a failure. Take the first step, no matter how challenging something is; the initial steps are hard to take, but when you learn to walk forward, the path will open up for you. A lot of bad things will come your way, but you'll find goodness, too; never stop being grateful, okay?", mom paused. "And if I could change something in me to be a better version, what would it be?", I asked her, curiously. "You are amazing the way you are, darling, but maybe, if you have some patience, listen to people, and not take everything to heart; you'll be the best version of yourself. Learn to adjust, Dityaa; it's important you do that. Only when you bow down before people will people bow down for you; you'll get only what you give. And don't get angry for little things, your head will explode. Do yoga every day!", mom jokingly said, and I giggled. I cut the call, the moment an announcement filled the airport's waiting room; it was about to move on, and out.

"Passengers traveling to Singapore, the gates are open. Please head to the respective gates. Thank you", a man announced in a posh accent, and I picked up my hang-luggage, feeling the nerves rush back to me, all over again with full force.

I was scared.

For the first time, I was scared to turn the page in the Book of Life. I didn't know what the next chapter had in store for me, and the uncertainty of life – which I always loved – terrified me immensely that morning.