One night, Amit couldn't hold it back anymore. The weight of his feelings had become too heavy to carry alone.

Puja, are you there? I need to tell you something. I can't keep pretending this is just chatting anymore.

Puja's heart gave a violent thud. She knew this was coming. She had felt it in the way his messages were filled with "I wish you were here."

Yes, Amit. I'm here. What happened?

Mujhe nahi pata tum kya soch rahi ho, par main aur wait nahi kar sakta. I've fallen for you, Puja. I really have. It's not just a crush. I see my future with you.

(I don’t know what you are thinking but I am cannot wait anymore.)

The screen blurred as Puja's eyes filled with tears. She wanted to scream "I love you too," but the voice of her upbringing, her fear, and her logic drowned it out.

Amit... please don't say that. Don't do this.

Kyu? Is it so bad that I love you? I know it's fast, and I know we haven't met, but I feel it in my heart. It's okay if you need time to think about it. I'm not forcing you.

(Why?)

It's not about time, Amit. It's about us. I can't do this with you. We are too different. It's impossible.

Impossible? Why? Hum ek doosre ko pasand karte hain. Aur kya chahiye?

(We like each other. What else is needed?)

Puja wiped her eyes with her dupatta and started typing, her fingers shaking. She needed to build a wall, even if it meant breaking her own heart.

No, Amit. Think about it. You are Punjabi, I am Bengali. Everything is different. My parents... they would never understand. They want someone who speaks our language, who understands our culture. These things won't work in our house.

Culture? I'll learn! Main Bengali seekh lunga. I'll eat fish curry, I'll wear a Dhoti if I have to. Language is just words, Puja. My love for you is bigger than that.

(I will learn Bengali.)

It's not just language. Look at our lives! Your world is loud and big, my world is small and quiet. How will I ever fit in? How will you?

I'll adapt, Puja. Hum rasta nikal lenge. I love my family, but I have a separate room, a separate life for us. I'm not asking you to change. I'm asking you to be with me.

(We will find out a way.)

And what about the distance? We are thousands of kilometers apart! We've only seen pictures. What if we meet and you don't like me? What if I'm not the girl you imagined?

That's impossible. I've talked to you for hours every day. I know your soul, Puja. The way you look is just a bonus. Distance can be covered by a train or a flight. These are all excuses, Puja. Tell me the truth... do you feel nothing for me?

Puja stared at the question. The truth was that she felt everything. She felt like she belonged to him. But the fear of disappointment, the fear of her father's anger, and her own insecurities were like a cage.

It doesn't matter what I feel. This is a mistake. I'm just a student, Amit. I have to finish my studies. I can't deal with the drama of a long-distance, cross-cultural relationship. It's too much pressure. I... I can't do it.

There was a long silence. The typing bubble appeared and disappeared several times. Amit was sitting on his bed, feeling a cold numbness spread through his chest. 

Okay. I understand. If the differences are bigger than us for you, then I can't force you. But Puja, I want you to know one thing. Main yahan koi game nahi khel raha tha. For me, this was serious from day one.

(I wasn’t playing a game here.)

I know, Amit. I'm sorry.

No, don't be sorry. But if you are looking for just a friend or a time-pass to feel good during your exams, then I can't be that person. Mere liye emotions bohot keemti hain. I don't want to keep talking and hope for something that you've already decided is impossible. It hurts too much.

(Emotions are very valuable for me.)

What are you saying?

I'm saying we should stop. Agar tum mere sath koi future nahi dekhti, toh baat karne ka koi faida nahi hai. I don't want to get my feelings hurt more by having false hopes. It's better to end it now.

(If you don’t see a future with me, there’s no point in talking anymore.)

Puja felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. She wanted to argue, to tell him to stay, but her own fears kept her silent.

If that's what you want... then okay.

It's not what I want. It's what you've forced. Goodbye, Puja. All the best for your exams.

Goodbye, Amit.

The next few minutes were a blur. Amit, with a heavy heart and trembling hands, went to the settings of the dating app. Every time he saw his match with Puja, his chest ached.

He didn't want to see any other girls. He didn't want to swipe ever again. The app that brought him to her now felt like a reminder of his failure.

He clicked "Delete Account." He uninstalled the app and threw his phone onto the bed.

The silence of his room felt deafening. He walked out to the terrace, looking at the dark fields, feeling more alone than he had ever felt since his parents died.

Puja was sitting in the same position, staring at their chat. She expected another message, but nothing came. She checked his profile.

User not found.

The words hit her like a physical blow. He was gone. Truly gone. 

She clutched her phone to her chest, her heart feeling like it was being squeezed in an iron fist. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. There was just a dull, throbbing ache.

"I did the right thing."

She whispered to herself.

"Eta thik. It would have never worked."

(This is right.)

But as the night crawled on, the right thing felt horribly wrong.

The days that followed were a slow torture.

Puja tried to focus on her books, but Amit's voice was everywhere. When she studied, she remembered him calling her "Ma'am." When she ate dinner, she remembered him teasing her about her love for fish. Every time her phone pinged with a random notification, her heart would leap, only to crash when she realized it wasn't him.

She started losing her appetite. Her mother noticed.

"Puja, ki hoyeche, tumi eto chupchap ken? Shorir ki kharap?"

(What happened, why are you so quiet? Are you unwell?)

"No Ma, just exam stress."

Puja would lie, turning her face away so her mother wouldn't see the dark circles under her eyes.

She would spend hours looking at the single screenshot she had saved of him, the one where he was smiling in the mustard field. She missed his "Good morning" texts. She missed the way he would say "Oye" when she said something silly. She missed the feeling of being seen, not as a student or a daughter, but as a woman.

She realized, too late, that the differences she had listed were just excuses born out of fear. She had been so afraid of the end that she had refused to even start.

Amit, on the other hand, was a ghost of his former self. He went to work, he spoke to his brother, he played with his nephew, but the light had gone out of his eyes. He stopped checking his phone. He stopped making jokes at the dinner table.

His sister-in-law, Simran, watched him with concern.

"Amit, sab thik toh hai na? Tu aaj kal bohot khoya khoya rehta hai."

(Amit, is everything alright? You are very lost nowadays.)

"Bas kaam ka load hai, Bhabhi."

(Just work load, Bhabhi.)

He would reply, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

He hated the silence. He hated that every time he saw a yellow flower, he thought of her. He tried to be angry at her for being so hesitant, but all he felt was sadness. He had offered her his heart on a silver platter, and she had been too scared to even touch it.

Both of them were living in the same country, under the same sky, breathing the same air, but the silence between them was wider than any ocean. Puja was in denial, trying to convince herself she was safe in her quiet life. Amit was in mourning, trying to forget a girl he had never even met.