The vibrant energy of the college corridors dulled for Milli over the next few weeks. It started small—a few glances, hushed whispers, and muffled laughter—but soon grew louder. The rumor mill had begun its merciless spin, weaving stories about Milli and Kush.

“They make such a perfect pair,” someone would say.
“Did you see how close they were at the ball?” another voice would add.
“They’re definitely dating!”

Milli tried to brush it off at first, smiling through the teasing comments and avoiding the judgmental stares. But the weight of the gossip started to press on her heart. One afternoon, she sat alone on the steps of the campus amphitheater, clutching her books tightly to her chest. Her usual spark was replaced by a sadness she couldn’t hide.

Under her breath, she hummed a melancholic tune:
“Tujhse naraz nahi zindagi, hairan hoon main… Tere masoom sawalon se pareshan hoon main…”

The lyrics echoed her turmoil, the pain of being misunderstood. She wiped a stray tear, frustrated that something as innocent as friendship had turned into fodder for gossip.

Just then, she heard footsteps. Looking up, she saw Kush standing there, concern etched across his face.

“Milli,” he said softly, sitting down beside her. “I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No, Kush, I’m not. This… all these rumors… they’re too much. I don’t know why people can’t just let us be.”

Kush frowned, his hands tightening into fists. “People talk because they have nothing better to do. It doesn’t matter what they say. What matters is what we know.”

Milli turned to him, her voice trembling. “But it does matter, Kush. I don’t want my parents to hear this and think… think that I’ve done something wrong. I don’t want you to feel burdened because of me.”

Kush leaned closer, his voice steady and reassuring. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Milli. And you’re not a burden to me. You’re my friend, and I’ll always stand by you.”

The sincerity in his words brought a small smile to her lips, though her eyes still shimmered with unshed tears.

Kush glanced around the quiet amphitheater, then said, “You know, my mom once told me something when I was younger. She said, ‘People will always have something to say. But you can’t let their words define you.’” He looked at her. “And you shouldn’t let them define you either.”

Milli nodded slowly, finding comfort in his words. But before she could say anything, he stood up and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here. You need a break from all this nonsense.”

She hesitated but finally placed her hand in his. As they walked away, the faint strains of a hopeful tune filled her mind:
“Zindagi ke safar mein guzar jaate hain jo muqaam, woh phir nahi aate…”

For the first time in weeks, Milli felt a glimmer of relief. With Kush by her side, she knew she wasn’t alone in facing the storm of whispers and shadows.