As soon as Sameeksha called Aryan's childhood name, "Golu," the library walls seemed to vanish. An old scene flashed before Aryan's eyes.
"I thought you'd forgotten," Aryan said softly.
Sameeksha placed the diary on the table. "Forgetting isn't easy, Aryan. That park, that broken swing, and your blue bicycle... I remember everything. But then one day you suddenly disappeared. Without telling me."
Aryan took a deep breath and looked towards the window. "Papa was transferred. I didn't even get enough time to say goodbye to you. I lived in another city for years, but every time I picked up a pencil, my hands automatically started drawing your face. I promised myself that the day I became capable, I would come back."
Sameeksha noticed that the back pages of Aryan's black diary contained not just sketches, but also train tickets to the cities he had lived in. He'd written something on the back of each ticket.
"Sameeksha, I didn't want to make you emotional by reminding you of your childhood," Aryan said, looking at her. "I wanted you to like 'Aryan,' not the little 'Golu' who left years ago."
A tear rolled down Sameeksha's eyes and fell on the diary page. She reached out and held Aryan's trembling fingers. In the cool library air, there was a strange warmth in her touch.
"Golu or Aryan... you always kept me alive in your art," Sameeksha smiled. "Now you don't need to run away."
Just then the library guard called out, "Son, it's time to close."
They both went out. The rain had stopped, and a faint moon had appeared in the sky. Aryan took out his sketchbook and drew one last line.
"Today is 'Day 120,'" he said.
Samiksha peeked in. There was no sketch on the page, but instead, written in bold letters, "The Beginning."