Title: "Unbreakable Bonds" The First MeetingThe autumn leaves rustled under Aryan’s feet as he walked through the university campus, lost in thought. Life had been nothing short of a rollercoaster for him, but nothing had prepared him for the moment he met Aisha.She was sitting under an old oak tree, her fingers lightly sketching in a worn-out diary. Her eyes, deep pools of mystery, reflected an unspoken sorrow. Aryan, being an artist himself, couldn’t help but be drawn to her aura.“Mind if I sit?” he asked hesitantly.She looked up, her lips curling into a faint smile. “It’s a free world.”That was the beginning of an unspoken connection, a bond neither of them could put into words yet.Aryan watched as her fingers traced the pencil lines delicately, as if pouring her soul onto the pages. “You sketch beautifully,” he remarked, leaning slightly to get a better view.Aisha shrugged, closing the diary. “It’s just a way to remember things… the ones I don’t want to forget.”Intrigued, Aryan tilted his head. “And what do you want to remember?”Aisha sighed, glancing at the sky above. “Moments that mattered.”Aryan could sense the weight behind her words. He didn’t push further, but something about her melancholic aura made him want to know more. To understand her silence. To break through her walls. Aryan and Aisha’s friendship blossomed in unspoken moments. They often sat together, sometimes talking, sometimes just enjoying the silence. It wasn’t about words; it was about presence.One evening, as they sat by the lake, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink, Aisha whispered, “Have you ever lost someone?”Aryan’s fingers tightened around the sketchbook he always carried. He hesitated before admitting, “Yes. My mother. When I was ten.”The memory was like an old wound, one that never truly healed. He had spent years trying to paint her face, but the details always blurred, like time trying to erase her from his memory.Aisha nodded, her gaze distant. “I lost my brother last year. He was my best friend.”She picked up a pebble and threw it into the lake, watching as the ripples spread outward. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How someone can be there one moment and gone the next.”Aryan watched her, realizing how deeply grief had etched itself into her soul. And for the first time in years, he felt like he wasn’t alone in his pain. Days turned into weeks, and their friendship became a refuge. Aryan introduced Aisha to painting, while she shared her love for poetry with him. They were two lost souls, healing each other in their own ways.On a particularly cold evening, Aryan found Aisha sitting alone under the oak tree, her diary clutched tightly to her chest. She looked up at him and whispered, “Do you believe that some people are meant to meet?”Aryan thought for a moment before answering, “Yes. And I think we were.”Aisha smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. “Then why does fate always separate the ones who belong together?”Aryan didn’t have an answer. He just knew that whatever they had—it was special. And he wasn’t ready to lose it. The night before Aisha was set to leave, Aryan knocked on her door. When she opened it, he handed her a wrapped canvas.“Open it later,” he said softly.She nodded, her hands trembling as she took it. “Thank you, Aryan. For everything.”The next morning, she was gone.Aisha unwrapped the canvas that evening. It was a painting of them—sitting under the oak tree, lost in their world of art and poetry. Tears welled in her eyes. It wasn’t just a painting. It was a piece of Aryan’s heart.She ran her fingers over the brush strokes, feeling the emotions he had poured into every detail. And for the first time since she left, she let herself cry. Years passed. Life moved on, but some memories never fade.Aryan became a successful artist, his paintings speaking of untold emotions. Yet, every painting had a trace of Aisha—her smile, her eyes, the pain she carried.One day, at an exhibition, he heard a familiar voice. “Beautiful work.”He turned sharply. There she was, standing right before him. Aisha. Aisha had changed, yet she was the same. They talked for hours, catching up on lost time. Aryan finally asked the question that had haunted him for years. “Why didn’t you stay in touch?”She smiled sadly. “I was scared… scared that I’d hold onto something that wasn’t meant to last.”Aryan reached for her hand. “But we lasted, Aisha. No matter how far we were, we never really let go.”And in that moment, they realized that some bonds, no matter how tested by time and distance, remain unbreakable. That evening, as they walked through the empty streets, Aisha handed Aryan a folded letter. “I wrote this years ago but never sent it.Aryan took it hesitantly, unfolding it with careful hands. The paper was slightly worn, edges curled with age. His eyes traced her handwriting, delicate yet firm, carrying the weight of words left unsaid for too long.Dear Aryan, I don’t know if I’ll ever send this. Maybe by the time you read it..