The sky was a quiet grey that morning — neither gloomy nor bright. Just like Haseena’s heart, unsure if it should hold on to the old or open up to the new.
The city college campus buzzed with energy. Students rushed past, some late for classes, others lingering by the canteen, laughing over chai and half-burnt samosas. Amidst the crowd, Haseena stood adjusting her dupatta, her eyes scanning the building.
“Woh bolte hai na, college life sabse yaadgar hoti hai,” she whispered to herself, pulling the strap of her bag higher. “Toh shuru karein?”
A sudden tap on her shoulder.
“Madam,” came a playful voice. “College mein naye aaye ho ya acting audition dene?”
Haseena turned. Shazia.
Same wild curls. Same loud eyes. But now wearing a stolen confidence like it was her birthright.
“Shaziaaa!” Haseena grinned, hugging her.
Before their excitement could settle, a third voice jumped in. “Mujhe bhool toh nahi gayi?”
Riya. Her smile was calm, but her sarcasm was sharp enough to cut glass.
Together, the trio began walking through the corridor — laughing, gossiping, and judging every third boy they saw.
Inside their classroom, seats were filling fast. Shazia pulled Haseena toward the third row. “Front benchers impress karte hain, but mid-rowers observe silently and rule,” she winked.
Haseena laughed, settling beside her, pulling out her notebook — mostly blank except for a sticker that said “Beware! I Daydream.”
The door opened again — and this time, the silence followed.
Someone entered. Not with noise, but presence.
His walk was quiet, confident, and without show. A simple off-white shirt, navy trousers, neatly combed hair, a stubble that didn’t try too hard, and a pair of eyes that scanned the class not with power, but curiosity.
“Main hoon Anubhav,” he said, setting his files on the table. “Aapka psychology professor.”
Haseena blinked.
Shazia elbowed her. “Awaaz pe dhyan de,” she whispered. “Chocolate se bhi zyada smooth hai.”
Riya smirked. “Mujhe lag raha hai kisi ka psychology bohot jaldi weak padne wala hai.”
But Haseena wasn’t listening to their banter.
She stared — not like a fool, but like someone trying to understand why the voice in her head suddenly paused when he spoke.
Anubhav continued teaching. Calm, well-paced, occasionally cracking dry jokes that made only two students laugh. But there was something about the way he explained the human mind — not just as a topic, but as if he had studied pain up close.
When the lecture ended, everyone stood.
As Anubhav stepped out, he paused — just for a moment — glancing back briefly.
His eyes met Haseena’s. No smile. No awkwardness. Just a flicker of awareness. A connection that felt too early… and yet, perfectly timed.
Outside, Shazia whispered, “Waise... first impression toh tum dono ka strong tha.”
Haseena rolled her eyes. “Shuruat hi hui hai. Don’t be filmi.”
But deep inside, something had already begun.
It had been two weeks since classes began.
Haseena had slipped into a new rhythm — notes half-filled, canteen bills rising, and Shazia and Riya filling her days with more drama than her own life ever dared to bring.
But some things… didn’t fit any rhythm.
Like that one moment in every psychology lecture.
When he would enter.
And her breath would forget its job.
Anubhav sir wasn’t like the others. He didn’t scold. He didn’t shout. But somehow, when he stood in front of the class, everyone listened. Not out of fear — but a strange respect.
“Tum notice karti ho?” Shazia muttered once during class, leaning toward Haseena. “Woh har baar class ke last benchers pe nazar daalte hain, but tum pe… zyada ruk jaate hain.”
“Pagal hai kya?” Haseena hissed, scribbling something useless in her notebook.
But her hand was shaking just a bit.
That day’s topic was “Attachment Styles.” Anubhav was pacing gently, as usual, hands folded, voice steady.
“Pyaar ka matlab sab ke liye alag hota hai,” he said. “Kisi ke liye comfort, kisi ke liye addiction. Aur kabhi kabhi… sirf ek aadat.”
His words sat heavy in the room. Most students stared blankly. Haseena didn’t.
She looked right at him.
And this time… he noticed.
Their eyes met. Not for long. But long enough for her to feel exposed — like he’d read every page of her unwritten diary.
That evening, Riya dragged them to the chai stall across the street.
“Tum dono ki chemistry dekh ke lagta hai class ka naam Love Psychology hona chahiye,” she teased.
Haseena shoved her playfully, but she didn’t deny it either.
That night, in her room, she stared at the ceiling fan, her thoughts twirling with it.
“Main pagal toh nahi hoon na?” she mumbled.
Lekin jawab sirf ek aaya —
Woh aankhon ka rishta… sach tha.
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༺ 𒆜Ishq Ka Pehla Saya 𒆜 ༻
Fanfiction✧ Phase One: A childhood full of mischief, secrets, and survival. ✧ Phase Two: A college girl's battle between forbidden love and family duty. Haseena was born into rejection. But she was also born to fight. With two brothers who love her, a grandmo...
