Chapter 9: Out of the Picture

Thinking of all this, and the situation now, tears nearly welled in my eyes.

I blinked them away, determined not to let anyone see my pain.

Soon, the summer break arrived.

The city baked under a scorching sun, the power went out almost daily, and the smell of mangoes filled the air. I counted the days, hoping for a fresh start.

We agreed to watch the boat races by the river, meeting at the old ghat near the bridge.

I cleaned my shoes the night before, ironed my shirt, even borrowed my uncle's camera. I wanted it to be a perfect day.

She arrived early. At first, I didn’t understand why she left so soon.

I checked my phone, confused by her sudden message: 'Sorry, I have to go. I'll see you later.'

Only when I got there did I realise—Kabir had "beaten me to it."

He was already there, laughing with her, camera slung around his neck. My heart dropped to my shoes.

He’d learnt about our plan from chatting with Ananya, and asked, 'Can I come too? You two have fun, I’ll help take pictures.'

He said it as if he was doing us a favour. Ananya looked at me apologetically, but the damage was done.

Ananya couldn’t refuse. She agreed.

She always found it hard to say no, especially when someone was so persistent. I could see her discomfort, but she smiled anyway.

Not only that, she also agreed to go out early for breakfast with him.

They had already shared chai and poha at the riverside stall, a ritual that used to be ours.

When I arrived, they were chatting and laughing together, completely absorbed in each other. I was the third wheel.

My presence barely registered. Kabir took my camera, clicked a few photos, then handed it back with a smug grin.

Honestly, that day was pure humiliation for me. I trailed behind them, because in the end, I was the one taking the photos.

As they posed by the river, sunlight glinting off the water, I realised I had become the outsider in my own story. The camera trembled in my hands, but I forced a smile, capturing a moment that was no longer mine.

As I clicked the shutter, I realised—sometimes, the person behind the camera is the one left out of the picture.