Until We Meet Again Chapter 1 - A Second Chance

  The universe can be cruel, taking away those who mean the most to us. Today, I, Shivam, lost my best friend, Anika. She was my guiding light through tough times, the one who steered my career when I was lost, and the reason I am who I am today. Her sudden absence weighs heavily on me, especially because I blame myself—if only I hadn't let my ego get in the way that day, perhaps she wouldn't have faced this fate.

  Right now, I'm on my way to Anika's funeral, and memories of our time together are flooding my mind. It feels like just yesterday when I first met her—her radiant eyes, her innocent charm, her lovely smile that could light up any room. She was like a little angel. Back in school, many guys admired her, and some even envied my closeness to her. There were misunderstandings too; people mistook our deep friendship for something romantic. But for us, it was always about a bond that went beyond love—a connection that defined what true friendship means.

  Back then, I admit I was quite different—reckless, arrogant, and not at all like the person I've become today—a more decent, successful individual. I had a habit of drinking and smoking, going against my parents' wishes, and my academic performance was below par. I owe my degree to her support. At that time, I felt like a total failure, but Anika changed me for the better.

  She convinced me to enroll in a data science course, which eventually paved the way for my career as a data analyst at a prestigious MNC. With her support, I also managed to overcome my smoking and drinking habits. Anika played a pivotal role not just in my professional life but also as a mediator in my romantic relationships. I ended up marrying my college girlfriend, who happened to be Anika's friend, but unfortunately, our marriage ended in divorce after seven years. Despite our efforts, my ex-wife found it challenging to understand me, and we parted ways amicably, thankfully without children involved.

  On the other hand, Anika married her longtime boyfriend, Viraj, despite opposition from her parents, and they had a daughter together. Unfortunately, Viraj's possessive nature caused friction in their relationship. He was uncomfortable with Anika interacting with others, leading to frequent arguments. My divorce compounded the strain between Anika and me, and my ego became a barrier between us. I regretfully ignored her attempts to talk, and now I deeply regret my actions.

  As soon as I arrived at her funeral, a heavy sense of sorrow hung in the air. The place was packed with familiar faces, each one marked by tears of grief. Her parents, neighbors, and friends had all gathered, their tears a testament to how deeply Anika was cherished by everyone around her. Among the crowd, I spotted some friends—Arjun, Varsha, and Shreya—from a distance.

  Me, Anika, Arjun, Shreya, and Varsha—we were a tight-knit group, always doing things together. But now, due to my divorce, we've grown apart. Feeling like an outsider, I stepped back and watched Anika's funeral from a distance. I should have been by her side, shedding tears alongside everyone else, but instead, time and circumstances have distanced me. Now, engulfed in sorrow and sadness, I feel like a stranger at her farewell.

  As I stood at the graveyard, watching Anika's final rites, the reality of her passing hit me hard. After leaving the graveyard and starting to head home, a familiar voice called out from behind, “Are you still going to maintain your silence?” It was Varsha. Before I could respond, Arjun interjected with a pointed remark, “His ego outweighs our friendship; what more can we expect?”

  Instead of risking conflict, I chose to walk away without engaging further. Shreya interrupted me, urging, “Shivam, why hold onto this anger? Talk to us, at least now.” Her words resonated, but I still felt compelled to explain myself. “It's not about anger,” I said, “it's about avoiding potential issues by not having this conversation.”

  Arjun's question hit me hard: “Do you think staying silent solves everything?” I hesitated before responding, “Not exactly,” but Varsha cut in, urging me to speak up: “Just let it out, whatever you're holding inside.” That moment, my defenses finally crumbled, and I was ready to open up.

  Afterward, we all gathered at a nearby shop, the absence of Anika weighing heavily in the air, creating a palpable silence. Finally, I spoke up, breaking the tension. “I don't think she took her own life. I should have let go of my ego sooner. If I had been there, maybe I could have made a difference.”

  Arjun reflected, “Even though we were all close, she kept her pain hidden from us.” Shreya chimed in, “We tried to reach out, but she always hid everything behind her innocent smile.” Varsha expressed her frustration, “Viraj's behavior was appalling. Despite knowing about her financial struggles, he wouldn't let her work. Didn't he trust her at all? It's shocking that he didn't even show up at the funeral today.”

  Shreya remarked, “What face could he possibly show after all he's done? Thankfully, Anika's daughter is now with her parents.” Arjun added somberly, “Yet, Anika isn't here with us today. Despite Viraj's love for her, his possessiveness destroyed their relationship. If only we had a chance to go back, we would change everything.”

  Arjun's words lingered in my mind all the way home—a second chance to make things right. It's a concept everyone wishes for, but realistically, time travel back 20 years is just a fantasy. Exhausted from the emotions, I decided to rest. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, and tonight, I needed strength to process and grieve. With that thought, I drifted off to sleep.

  As I lay with my eyes closed, flashes of light danced behind my eyelids. Suddenly, my sleep was interrupted by a familiar voice. “Hey Shivam, wake up, you sleepyhead.” I recognized the voice instantly. With sleepy eyes, I slowly peeked through my lids and saw my brother standing there.

  My sleep was completely shattered. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. With a heavy sigh, I woke up abruptly. My brother, standing beside me, looked concerned and asked, “What happened?”

  I stared at him for a moment, still feeling the weight of the dream. With a deep breath, I replied, “Just a nightmare.” My brother nodded understandingly, saying, “Alright, don't be late for college.” He left the room, but my mind was racing with a different concern. How could it be possible? Moments ago, it was 2039 in my dream, but what was today's date?

  As I fumbled for my phone, my heart raced with anticipation. Unlocking it, I saw the date: February 17, 2022. Confusion swirled in my mind. Was it all just a dream—a vivid nightmare that felt painfully real? Or had I somehow been granted a second chance? The memories of Anika's funeral, the profound regret, and the grief of losing her remained vivid. It almost felt like I had been transported back in time.

  My brother's voice echoed from the hallway, urging me to hurry up to avoid being late. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I considered the possibility that this was indeed real—that I had somehow traveled back to 2022. If so, I realized I had a chance to make things right, to amend past mistakes. Glancing at my phone, I noticed a notification: “I will be at the station at 9 o'clock.”

  Feeling a rush of disbelief and hope, I quickly got ready and headed to the railway station, where I was supposed to meet Anika. My mind buzzed with thoughts of how I could possibly change the past to prevent her pain. As I waited anxiously, a familiar, sweet voice called out my name from behind.

  Overwhelmed with emotions, my eyes welled up involuntarily. My heart raced faster, and my hands trembled with anticipation. Every step felt heavy with emotion as I turned around to face her, her presence evoking a flood of memories and feelings.

  Seeing her, with those familiar, adorable eyes behind glasses, left me speechless. “Why are you looking at me like it's the first time?” she asked. I struggled to find words, simply responding, “Nothing.” She smiled gently and suggested, “Alright, let's head to college.”

  As we walked to college, Anika spoke animatedly about the events of the previous day. I listened intently, feeling like an audience to her lively storytelling. Her laughter and smiles were a sight I had truly missed. Just then, her phone buzzed with a message from Viraj.

  Seeing Viraj's name on her phone stirred a sudden surge of anger within me. I felt the urge to tell her everything, but I hesitated, unsure if she would understand. The once-silent part of me now wanted to speak up, but I remained silent, knowing what was likely to unfold. This time, I had a chance to change things.

  During our third year of college, Anika and Viraj faced a challenge due to his possessiveness. In the past, I stayed neutral, but now I'm considering encouraging her to end things with him. This could alter the course of events. Let's see how things unfold on that date.

  As the days passed, I eagerly counted down to the moment when I could potentially influence Anika's decision regarding Viraj. Whenever I saw Viraj, my inner turmoil flared, but I chose to remain silent. Meanwhile, I focused on correcting my past mistakes, driven by a determination to make amends for my previous actions.

  Sometimes I found myself predicting things accurately—like exam questions, cricket match outcomes, and movie endings—because I had already seen them unfold. My friends jokingly called me an astrologer when I shared these predictions with them. With this newfound confidence, I rebuilt my friendships with Arjun, Shreya, and Varsha. Then, the anticipated day finally arrived.

  On that day, Anika, Arjun, Shreya, Varsha, and I were gathered for a group study session. Amid the hustle, I noticed that Anika seemed unusually downcast. Her demeanor was subdued compared to her usual self. Concerned, I asked her, “What's wrong? You seem off today.” She simply replied, “Nothing.”

  I persisted, saying, “Come on, something must be bothering you. Tell me what's wrong.” Relenting, Anika agreed, “Okay, I'll tell you after our study session.” An hour later, as we headed home, she finally opened up and shared what had been troubling her.

  She told me, “Shivam, Viraj and I had a serious argument about something.” I responded, “You two often fight and then patch things up after a couple of days. It's become a pattern.” Anika shook her head, saying, “No, Shivam, this time it's different. It's serious.” I pressed gently, “Please, tell me what happened.”

  She began sharing what I had anticipated. “Shivam, you know how possessive Viraj can be. He constantly sets boundaries on who I can interact with. I've tried discussing this with him numerous times, but his behavior hasn't changed. Two days ago, we were walking in the park. I bumped into a school friend and had a short chat. After my friend left, Viraj started questioning why I was talking to him and instructed me to avoid him. It made me feel uncomfortable.”

  She went on, “Why is he so possessive? Doesn't he trust me?” Anika was clearly troubled by the situation. “This incident raised many questions for me,” she explained. “It escalated into a heated argument. He's constantly setting boundaries, trying to control whom I interact with.”

  I took a deep breath, feeling this was the moment I had been waiting for. “Anika, there's something I need to say,” I began hesitantly. Intrigued, she prompted me, “What is it?” Gathering my courage, I said, “I think you should break up with him. It might be the best option.”

  Her expression shifted as soon as I spoke, and she responded, “What are you saying? You don't understand how much I love him, and yet you're suggesting this.” I replied earnestly, “I know, but consider this. Viraj isn't receptive to reason right now. Anika, if we only think about immediate happiness, we can't ensure it'll last into the future. Think about taking this step.”

  For two days, Anika wrestled with uncertainty. I stood by her, steadfast in my conviction that breaking up with Viraj was the right choice. It was emotionally taxing, feeling like a battle, but I succeeded in supporting her through it. I believe I helped her avoid potential future hardships. In the end, I felt I had accomplished what I set out to do.

  After six years, Anika married according to her parents' wishes, and the wedding was a grand celebration. Those who were close to her celebrated joyously. I felt I had fulfilled my chance to make a positive impact, but my perspective was about to shift with a phone call.