Silent beginnings

"in the heart of Mumbai, where the city never sleeps, lived a man who had long forgotten how to dream. At 25, he had a job that paid the bills, an apartment that felt more like a rented cage, and a life that barely felt like living. He had no friends—by choice. He never smiled—because there was nothing to smile about. And he preferred solitude—because people only brought disappointment.

_"For him, home was just a place to keep his belongings, not a place to live. He rarely stayed there—his real life was on the road. Every few days, he was in a new city, arranging tours, guiding groups, and making sure others had the time of their lives. Strangers came and went, excited to explore the world, while he remained an observer—always moving, never belonging.

Travel wasn’t just his job; it was the only thing he truly enjoyed. The open roads, new cities, unfamiliar faces—it gave him a sense of freedom. But even as he stood in the most beautiful places, surrounded by laughter and excitement, he never felt part of it. He was the man behind the scenes, the one who made others' experiences unforgettable, while his own life remained unchanged.

At night, when the tours ended and everyone went back to their rooms, he would sit alone—on a hotel balcony, by a quiet street, or near a bonfire that wasn’t his to join. The world kept moving, and so did he. Maybe that’s why he preferred traveling—because stopping meant facing the emptiness."_

_"It was just another tour. Another city, another hotel, another group of excited travelers waiting for an experience he had seen a thousand times before. He moved through the motions effortlessly—checking bookings, finalizing itineraries, answering the same questions he had memorized answers for. But then, something stopped him.

A name on the guest list. A familiar street. A song playing in the background of the hotel lobby. It didn’t matter what triggered it—what mattered was that, for the first time in years, he felt something other than indifference.

The past, the one he had buried so carefully, came rushing back like an uninvited storm. A memory he had spent years running from. A face. A voice. A moment that had changed everything. And suddenly, all the miles he had traveled, all the distances he had put between himself and his past, felt useless. Because the past had found him again."_

_"He stood frozen for a moment, his fingers tightening around the paper in his hand. The world around him kept moving—tourists laughing, the hotel staff rushing past, the city alive with its usual chaos. But inside him, something had shifted.

His mind pulled him back, against his will, to a time when life had felt different. When he wasn’t this cold, this distant. When he had let himself care. The memory was sudden, sharp, and unwanted.

A quiet evening. A warm voice. A promise made under city lights. And then—a silence that lasted years.

He let out a breath, forcing himself to push it away. This was just another tour, another city. The past had no place here. But as much as he tried to convince himself, he knew the truth—some memories never really fade. They just wait for the right moment to return."_

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