When the Past Knocks

Opening Scene – The Next Morning

_"The sun rose, but it brought no warmth. He had barely slept. The memory had crept into his dreams, twisting them into something too familiar, too painful. When the alarm rang, he didn’t need it—he had been awake for hours, staring at the ceiling of yet another hotel room in yet another city.

He dragged himself out of bed, moving on autopilot—brushing his teeth, throwing on a clean shirt, checking his phone even though he knew there were no messages waiting for him. Outside, the world was already awake—tourists buzzing with excitement, streets alive with the usual chaos.

But inside him, everything was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that only happens when the past refuses to leave.

_"Delhi wasn’t just another stop on his tour—it was home. Or at least, it had been. Three years had passed since he left, since he convinced himself he was done with this city. But now, standing in its familiar chaos, he realized that no matter how far he had traveled, Delhi had never really left him.

As the tour bus moved through the streets, he watched the city through the tinted glass. The roads, the markets, the old buildings—every turn held a memory. The shop where he used to stop for tea. The shortcut he had taken a thousand times. The park where he once spent hours, lost in conversations that no longer belonged to him.

He gripped the microphone a little tighter as he spoke to the group, keeping his voice steady, his tone professional. ‘On your left, you’ll see Connaught Place, one of the most famous shopping and business districts in Delhi…’

But in his mind, he wasn’t guiding tourists. He was reliving a past he had sworn to leave behind."

Got it! Now we’ll show how he pushes his emotions aside and focuses on his work, trying to ignore the weight of being back in Delhi

_"He forced himself to focus. The past could wait—right now, his job came first. He had a group of tourists depending on him, an itinerary to follow, and no time to entertain old memories.

With practiced ease, he continued the tour, speaking with confidence, answering questions, making sure everything ran smoothly. He led them through the crowded streets, past monuments and markets, explaining the history of Delhi like it was just another city to him.

And maybe, to them, it was. But to him? Every street, every turn, every familiar scent carried something he wasn’t ready to face.

Still, he didn’t let it show. He kept moving, kept talking, kept working—because that was the only thing he knew how to do. If he stopped, even for a second, the past might catch up to him again. And he wasn’t ready for that."_

Now that his 6-day tour is over, we can show how he spends his break. Does he actually rest, or does the silence make it harder for him to escape his thoughts?

_"The tour ended smoothly. The last group of tourists left with smiles, thanking him for an unforgettable experience. He nodded, offered a polite smile in return, and watched them disappear into the crowded airport.

And just like that, it was over. Six days of nonstop movement, schedules, and responsibilities—gone in a moment.

He exhaled, rubbing his temples. He had been looking forward to this break, telling himself he needed rest. But now that the silence had settled in, he wasn’t sure if he wanted it anymore.

For six days, work had kept him distracted. Now, with no itinerary to follow, no one expecting anything from him, there was nothing left but his own thoughts. And that’s exactly what he had been trying to avoid."_

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