📅 Early December — Devgarh & Nandanpur
Winter deepened, and with it came another weight.
The scholarship exam.
Posters appeared on classroom notice boards. Teachers reminded them every period. Seniors whispered about cut-offs and competition.
"Only top students will qualify," one teacher warned. "This isn't a regular test."
For most students, it meant pressure.
For Abhay and Ishanvi, it meant something more — distraction, exhaustion, and fear of slipping when everything already felt unstable.
Morning Rides, Silent Thoughts
The scooters moved through icy air.
Breath fogged helmets. Fingers ached even through gloves.
Vaidehi revised formulas aloud.
Raghav quizzed Aariv.
Meera complained about waking up early.
Abhay listened — but his thoughts were elsewhere.
What if I mess up?
What if I can't focus?
What if… Ishanvi pulls away completely?
Beside him, Ishanvi clutched her notebook tightly.
Biology diagrams blurred before her eyes.
I can't afford distractions.
This exam matters.
Yet every time Abhay rode ahead, something inside her cooled further.
Classroom Pressure
Teachers moved fast now.
"No time to revise basics."
"Focus on accuracy."
"This exam decides your future."
Ishanvi normally thrived under pressure.
Today, her mind wandered.
She read the same paragraph three times.
The faint warmth she usually felt when concentrating — that quiet inner flame — stayed weak, unstable.
Her pen slipped from her fingers.
It didn't heat the desk.
It didn't react.
It just fell.
She stared at it longer than necessary.
Abhay's Restlessness
In maths class, Abhay solved problems mechanically.
Correct answers.
Wrong focus.
The water bottle in his bag trembled faintly whenever his thoughts drifted toward her.
He pressed his knee against the bag to steady it.
Focus. Just focus.
But the harder he tried, the worse it felt.
Fear crept in — not dramatic, not loud.
Cold. Persistent.
Recess Confusion
During lunch, everyone discussed the exam.
"Sir said physics will be tough."
"Chemistry numericals are tricky."
"My cousin failed last year."
Ishanvi sat quietly.
Abhay wanted to ask if she was okay.
He didn't.
That silence hurt them both.
The sun barely warmed the courtyard.
Even the pigeons stayed still.
Nature Responds
That afternoon, clouds gathered — not for rain, just heavy winter cover.
The wind picked up slightly.
Nothing dramatic.
Just… uneasy.
The river Sudarshini flowed slower than usual.
Too slow.
As if listening.
As if waiting.
Night Before Practice Tests
At home, books lay open late into the night.
Ishanvi rubbed her hands together, trying to feel warmth.
Nothing.
Abhay stood near the window, watching mist roll across the fields.
The water in the irrigation channel didn't move.
For the first time, both of them felt the same thought form separately:
What if losing control also means losing ourselves?
The exam was close.
Winter was tightening its grip.
And the balance between fire and water — already fragile — felt thinner than ever.