The Almost Confession

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The corridors of the psychology department echoed with the shuffle of hurried footsteps and the low hum of post-lecture chatter. Haseena sat still, her notebook open but untouched, as the rest of the class packed their bags and exited the room. The clock above the whiteboard ticked past 1:00 p.m., and her fingers drummed nervously against the desk.

“Tum nahi ja rahi?” Shazia leaned in as she zipped up her bag.

Haseena shook her head. “Thoda doubt hai… Anubhav Sir se poochhna hai.”

Shazia raised a brow, smirking. “Doubt ya kuch aur?”

Haseena rolled her eyes, cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. “Jaa na tu!”

The classroom emptied slowly, leaving only Haseena and the man whose presence was now far too familiar in her dreams. Anubhav stood by his desk, organizing some sheets, his glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of his nose.

He glanced up. “Haan Haseena? Kya padhna hai aaj?”

She walked up slowly, heart racing like she had run a marathon. She didn’t even bother to open her notebook. “Sir… voh… actually…”

Anubhav looked up, gently removing his glasses. “Hmm?”

Her voice faltered. “Woh kuch samajh nahi aa raha tha…” she said, her eyes darting toward the floor.

He smiled, oblivious. “Kaunsa topic?”

“M-Maslow’s hierarchy of needs,” she mumbled.

He nodded, walking toward the board. “Achha, dekho…” he started explaining, his tone casual but focused.

But Haseena couldn’t concentrate. Her eyes followed every gesture, every word, and all she could think about was how close he was. She wanted to tell him. She needed to tell him.

Abhi bol de, warna kabhi nahi hoga, she told herself.

She opened her mouth again—

And the door creaked open.

“Mujhe aapse kuch files lene the, Sir,” Mahi ma’am walked in, her heels clicking confidently.

Haseena stiffened.

Anubhav turned slightly. “Haan, rakh diye hain table pe.”

Mahi glanced at Haseena. “Oh, aap yahan?”

“Woh doubt tha,” Haseena said, her tone tight.

Mahi flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Good girl. Aapko toh sab samajhna chahiye—topper jo hain.”

Anubhav chuckled softly. “Mahi, please…”

Haseena didn’t stay to hear more. She packed her bag quickly and walked out, her ears burning, her chest heavy.

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That night, her diary bore the truth:

“Mujhe kuch kehna tha aapse, Sir. Woh baat jo har din mere dil mein baar-baar uthti hai. Jab aap chalk board pe likhte ho, jab aap kisi aur se baat karte ho, mujhe jalne lagta hai. Pata nahi kya hai yeh, lekin main pehle kabhi aise mehsoos nahi kiya. Shayad yeh sirf ek crush nahi hai… Shayad yeh kuch zyada hai.”

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