Shashank
It's half past dusk when I'm finally leaving the office after wrapping up the last few tasks for tomorrow's presentation event. Working as the MD of our own company isn't easy, but Dad insists I start here before becoming the official owner.
"Trust has to be the foundation of any business," he always says.
I joined the business three years ago, right after returning from the States. I started like every other employee — same pay, same work, same expectations. Honestly? It felt good. Working in your own company, getting paid, and still being guaranteed ownership someday… who wouldn't want that? If I had taken over without experience, I would've been clueless. But now, after three years, I feel like I've earned at least some of this.
When I enter the house, I hear soft giggles mixed with fading conversation — Mom's voice. Nothing calms me like hearing her laugh. As I step in quietly, I spot her on a video call, smiling so widely she doesn't even notice me standing right next to her.
My mother's joy is where my own joy comes from. My personality, my charm — it all comes from her, and I'm grateful.
I sip my coffee and casually lean near the couch, trying to peek at her screen. It's a woman around Mom's age… familiar.
And then it strikes.
Oh.
Sakshi Aunty.
I haven't seen her in years. Back when we lived in Mumbai and before we moved to Bangalore for my college. Whenever I would speak to Nishant, I'd ask him about Nishika and all the efforts are futile, only to get the most driest, most useless replies ever.
I wonder if he speaks to her atleast!
I know nothing else about her except for the fact that - she's pursuing computer as her main and is studying in Bangalore And somehow, even when she's this close, I've never met her in three whole years. Knowing she's in the same city but still unreachable… it makes everything feel worse. Almost like I'd prefer not knowing it at all.
He said that something happened and she's changed, doesn't speak much with any of them except Sakshi aunty, but keeps things to herself. I tried so hard to know more but eventually gave up not wanting to be nosy about her private life.
Somewhere the fact about her not being her old self just because of any incident doesn't feel right to me, it stirs something inside me that I couldn't spot.
What if she had a boyfriend? No,she never spoke about any guy back then.
But what if something changes now?
And Even if it does why does it have to bother me? It's not like I was around, stayed in touch or showed care to expect to know about her life incidents. Above all just barging out of nowhere and trying to enter into her private life isn't an encouraging thing as well.
So why does my heart refuse the explanations my mind keeps throwing at it? Why does the idea of someone in her life feel so wrong?
Immoral, maybe.
She's my best friend's sister.
And all I know of her — from when we were young — is that she held everything inside her like the ocean holds its waves. Quiet, but not empty. Reserved, but deeply expressive once she opened up. Coherent. Beautiful — one can see, inside out.
When Mom finally ends the call, I sit beside her.
"How is Sakshi Aunty?" I ask.
Mom beams. "She's good! And she asked so much about you. Oh— and there's a surprise."
"What surprise?" I ask, trying to stay calm while my brain runs through every unlikely scenario.
"Nisha. Do you remember her?"
Do I remember her?
I could draw her from memory.
So yes. Yes, Mom, I remember.
"Is she okay?" slips out before I can control it. Why do I feel like this? Why do I care this much? Is this the similar care I show to Shreya? Or maybe am overthinking.
Mom smiles. "She's coming to your company tomorrow for the presentation. She's one of the participants. Make sure you meet her and take good care of her."
"I will, Maa. Of course I will."
Looking around, I didn't notice Shreya, It is a kind of ritual to meet her daily or two days once as soon as I return from the office and have a talk to her about the day and guys of her college, big brother duties you could say. She's like this little bundle of joy for me. A small smile of her can wipe away all the stress I have and a small scar on her can shatter me into pieces.
Meetings, investor calls, handling the event, preparing the arena — the day is a blur. And with the programmer of the app we've been searching for finally participating tomorrow… I wonder if it could be her. She always loved programming. Always had that spark.
But thinking she's the same programmer might just be wishful thinking.
Still, I plan to offer the internship regardless of the results. But if it is her…
I don't know what I'll do with all this happiness.
Later, when I enter my room, I find myself standing at the cupboard I never let anyone touch. It's where I keep everything from high school — the one place I clean myself, the place that holds my peace and my regrets.
I rummage through it until I find what I came here for.
The portrait. Her portrait.
My first and only portrait of a person. The one sketch I drew with more emotion than skill. The one memory I couldn't give away — even when she cried quietly as I refused to.
The frame feels heavy in my hand as I step out to the balcony, holding the frame with both of my hands, not wanting to lose it by falling. Irony. Even I may lose her by falling.
The city lights blur when my emotions spill over. I trace the lines of her sketch with my fingers, imagining the softness of her real face.
She was the first person who made feel how it feels to be special, special to someone. It was just a bare minimum for friendship from her side, but to me it was everything I never ever knew I craved for.
From the peripheral view I could see Shua, my golden retriever sniffing and scrunching his nose to get my attention by noticing the outburst of my emotions which is clearly visible upon the sulking of my shoulders.
Sighing and kneeling infront of him,
"Do you want to know why your Shash is sad?", he barks in happiness of being succeeded with the fact of capturing my attention towards him.
"Well you know, I'm not sad, the fact is I'm extremely happy to meet someone.... He grew impatient and started wailing his furry tail, "Someone special to me! But guess what?" I ruffled his hair as he patiently listens to me with his barks wanting me to say more, "I don't even know if she remembers me. I wonder if she miss me like I do now. The thing which is more agonising is that I don't know how she looks by now and still I call her my friend?" I asked chuckling at my own silliness.
Sensing the change in my emotions he jumped over me and started showering kisses allover my face and soon the room filled with the teary laughter and joyful bark decibels. After few moments I lie on the bed to get some sleep but my anticipation wins as I again got drifted to the thoughts of same person for whom I was on the verge of bursting out by seeing her sketch
Back then, I liked her. More than I admitted. But I was a mess, unsure, and scared of ruining her peace — especially after seeing what her friend's toxic relationship did to her.
So I chose silence.
I left without saying goodbye, even though it broke her more than I expected. The way she held back her tears when I kept the sketch…
It haunts me even now.
Maybe it's not just old feelings.
Maybe it's more.
Or maybe she's forgotten me completely.
*************
Next day,
Around 07 in the morning I could hear the cheerful barks and overly energetic voice of my father storming towards my room with shua to wake me up ofcourse.
As if this house is a hostel where I should wakeup early for morning studies. Soon the voices came near as I start arranging my bed with heavy effort.
While arranging Shua came near the bed and gave me a wicked look with his muddy paws ready to ruin my freshly arranged bed and duvets.
"No shua you won't do anything" I warned as I saw his pawprints with mud which have already royally ruined the mats of the floor. Dad was just casually leaning against the wall having a sly smirk plastered on his face while I put in all my efforts to hold back shua from ruining the bed.
"Good workout Shash", he imitates me how I address to shua offering his handkey and that's when I found my whole face sweaty.
This man holds a grudge against his own son, I swear!
"Yes Dad, I hope you slept well too", I am no less. afterall he looks so exhausted out of his just walking and he has the guts to mock me.
"You really think I'll get good sleep after having such a notorious MD for my company?" he asks, Woah, Great. Just Great way to start a day?
I finally, Finally got ready after long session of cleaning the floor and putting the mats to the wash. The main motive behing my dad coming up to my room and creating all the mess is to test my patience early in the morning and of course to load me with work. He's been doing this ever since I started working in his company and he just wants to get me scolded by Mrs. Sharma so that I would earn good amount of scolding from her and he could get some attention from her. Funny, isn't it? But not for me.
Upon reaching the dining hall, the happy faces of mom and sister including a triumphant smiling face of my father came to my sight. But let's just ignore the last one.
"Woww bro you look so handsome today! Meeting some girl without telling me?", Shreya nudges me as soon as she notice me.
Honestly she might be right.
I did put in extra effort today.
"What makes you think that? I look handsome all day everyday!" I shrug and notice the very annoyed Shivesh Sharma from the corner of my eyes. Guess it's a payback.
Shreya just giggles at my remark as Mom pats my head, "Eat fast and get to work."
I drove off to work with many expectations of various scenarios which are yet to unfold. As much as I avoid this topic, I hate to admit that I'm this excited to meet Nishika. Our Nishika. For the first ever time, The usually short ride feels like hours of travel today.
After parking the car, I walk to the event arena as soon as I reach the main office. The things you do out of excitement, you see!
But something was off even after my extraordinary mood today, I felt something weird about to happen. Maybe I'm just over thinking or yes I'm overthinking.
Upon hearing a girl shouting alot maybe because frustrated by calling many times? Who the hell lets a girl shout like that? I turn around, a girl in a formal white shirt gets in my sight. Now, who the hell lets a beautiful girl run like this?
She looks quite tired maybe because of running to catch someone I couldn't stop wondering. Who lets someone like...Like her run like this leaving her panting heavily?
She looks at me after gaining some composure, she's beautiful. Stunning , actually. Even after sweating and panting, somehow looked unreal.
I don't know for how many minutes or seconds I stood there pondering about right adjectives to name her noteven bothering to ask if she's okay or not.
Something about her hits me like a forgotten memory.
Familiar.
So familiar that my heart stumbles.
I stare like an idiot, trying to place her…
Because I swear I've seen her somewhere. Long ago.
But the image of who it is stays blurry.
After few moments she raises her brow and looks at me, okay she wants to ask something, I suppose.
"I was calling you so many times, You didn't hear me?" she asks. So I was the one who let a beautiful girl like her run? But wait, I don't even... know her? Did she mistook me as someone else?
I was bewildered by her chaotic behaviour but it's cute how boldly she decided to confront me even though she didn't knew me. She's bold, just like someone I know.
Even though I hate myself for staring at some random girl like this, somewhere I felt a sense of familiarity, lost acquaintance from this girl.
I point myself to confirm if she was calling me not trusting any words coming out of my mouth as my thoughts reveries elsewhere and she nods impatiently.
She hands me something which I get from her noteven bothering to look at it as I found myself busy staring at her face which seemed to seize my attention allover itself. I just couldn't tear my eyes away from her even after something worthy of my attention right in my palms she gave just now.
Yet again, My focus falls on focusing the features of her flawless face, the fleek brows which didn't seem like needed makover it was as natural as it is, big almond eyes completely blank, seeming neutral even when she was out of breathe and ran out of patience. Before I could completely observe, she breaks my perception by asking,
"Don't you have something to say?" all my subconscious screamed to say yes and I don't even know why absent-mindedly I nod my head. She again raises her eyebrows asper my anticipation. Seems like she despises using words, but not me.
"You're so beautiful"
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FINALLLYYY.... It's the POV of our Chaotic male lead! Hope you guys had fun reading as much as I did while writing him.
I'm just sure you guys are going to love Shashank even more than he loves himself...hehe <3
P.S : This book is under the name of "To Warm Her Cold Heart" in Wattpad and Instagram but the author's name remains same 'author_spark'.
Just telling incase you all wanna try other platforms too. 🌷❤️
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