Priya, a young woman from Andhra Pradesh, India, embarks on a journey to her family's beach house in Goa, where traditions intertwine with modern friendships. As summer unfolds, hidden feelings for Tristan, the older son of family friends, emerge. T...
Hey you! You must be at your PG enjoying yourself after tiresome office work, or sipping coffee in your home, or perhaps even stalking your ex or having fun on your weekend vacation with your friends.
My name is Priya from Andhra Pradesh, India. This is my diary, which I named "Northern Lights." I will explain the reason for this name later.
Before you continue reading, I want to warn you. This diary contains my life's biggest secrets. I don't trust you, and I fear you might share them with others. Additionally, I admit that I haven't always made the best decisions in life. Would you still believe me?
If you choose to read further, please do so at your own risk.
April 23 2018,
The rain has just taken a pause; raindrops are clearly visible on streetlights and on the maple trees lining the road. Maple leaves are scattered all over the place. I'm wearing a white dress with yellow floral patterns and light brown flats. My hair is left loose with side braids. I am walking on the road, although the way isn't clearly visible due to the fog. All I can see is a man walking towards me, his long hair falling onto his forehead. He is wearing a black jacket, black jeans, and black shoes, although I couldn't see his face. We're about to run into each other, both excited to see one another.
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All of a sudden, I hear my name shouted, followed by a burst of laughter, and then someone abruptly moves me. I open my eyes, and everyone is laughing at me. My maths teacher gives me a serious look, indicating, 'I will see you when the results are out.' My friend, Ravisha, comes closer and says, 'Don't tell me you're lost in the same dream again.' I nod my head up and down. 'Seriously, Priya?' she says.
But all the college students are very happy today as our summer holidays are about to begin. And I am even happier because we have this tradition in my home that every summer we go to our beach house in Goa. Next to our house, there is this Anglo-Indian family.
More than just neighbors, they became family friends. Aunt Jane, with her sweet nature and modern views, was a breath of fresh air compared to my mom's more traditional outlook. She championed women's freedom and encouraged them to follow their hearts. All summer, they'd be inseparable, talking for hours on end, a constant buzz of thoughts and laughter.
Meanwhile, Uncle Jack and my dad would bond over fishing trips and business ventures. And the best part? My grandparents and the Anglo-Indian grandparents formed their own inseparable squad, aptly named "Rock 'n Roll." Their summer fun led to the creation of this senior citizen's club, proving that age is just a number when it comes to having fun.
The secret I'm hiding is three summers deep, my heart's been stuck on Tristan, Aunt Jane and Jack's older son. He's like sunshine and secrets, his laugh makes my stomach flip. I ache to tell him everything, how his name dances in my head, how his smile lights up my day. But fear's a bully, whispering doubts and "what ifs?" What if he laughs? What if he says no?
