Part 1: The Unseen Presence
Rohan’s reality was a labyrinth of disjointed thoughts and fuzzy boundaries. Schizophrenia rendered him unable to separate reality from fantasy. He frequently heard voices, whispers within his head that appeared to emanate from everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. The medication assisted, but it did not cure. Some days were preferable to others. On good days, he was able to contain the voices, push them away. Bad days were when the world became a tapestry of sights and sounds that threatened to engulf him.
In spite of the odds, Rohan took comfort in working at Pehchaan the street school, a street school that provided education to underprivileged kids. The children adored him, and he adored their vitality, their laughter, and their innocence. Pehchaan the street school was not merely a school; it was a sanctuary, an abode where Rohan could flee from the turmoil in his head. He’d pass hours with the children, educating them, playing with them, and observing them mature.
One night, while Rohan was assisting the children with their homework, he sensed the presence of something strange. It began subtly at first, a soft hum in the distance. He attempted to concentrate on the children, but the presence became more apparent, a whispering softness that enveloped his skin. Rohan’s heart missed a beat. He glanced about, wondering if others sensed it, but the children did not notice. The instructors were occupied with other students. It was as though he was the sole individual to perceive this presence.
The presence didn’t feel evil. It was soothing, reassuring. Rohan experienced a feeling of peace wash over him, a feeling he hadn’t had in years. He attempted to clear the feeling away as his medication or his imagination. But the feeling of presence persisted, a gentle reminder that he wasn’t alone.
As the days passed, Rohan began to look forward to the evenings at Pehchaan the street school. Not only for the children, but for the presence. He began to feel a connection to it, a sense of comfort that he couldn’t explain. The presence became a beacon of hope, a reminder that there was more to life than the chaos in his mind.
Part 2: A Glimpse of Her
One night, while assisting the kids with homework, he got a glimpse of her — a hasty shadow, a presence that disappeared into thin air. He rubbed his eyes to see if the medication was not kicking in once again. But the feeling of her being around stayed. He couldn’t understand it, but there was an inexplicable sense of calm, as though she was guarding him.
The kids saw nothing, but Rohan was certain he wasn’t hallucinating. A few days later, he caught sight of her again, a fleeting glimpse from the corner of his eye. This time, he attempted to turn around, but she disappeared. Rohan’s heart pounded as he wondered if he was losing his mind. Was he seeing things that were not there?
Despite the uncertainty, Rohan couldn’t dismiss the fact that he had seen someone. He began looking forward to the evenings at Pehchaan the street school, hoping to glimpse her once more. The children picked up on the difference, the manner in which he’d smile to himself or get lost in thought. They’d make fun of him, telling him if he was alright. Rohan would brush it aside, blaming his medication or his mind.
But at a deeper level, he knew something was off. He sensed a connection to this entity, a belonging that he’d never felt before. The entity became his anchor, his reason to remain rooted in a world that seemed too much to bear.
Part 3: The Voice Takes Shape
Weeks passed, and the rumours became more pronounced. Rohan could make out phrases now — “I’m here,” “Don’t be afraid,” “I need you.” The voice was soft, comforting. One evening, while he was walking out of Pehchaan the street school, he spotted her under the street lamp. She was translucent, ethereal, but her eyes were genuine — piercing, soulful eyes that held his gaze.
Rohan felt a jolt of fear mixed with curiosity. The voice in his head whispered, “My name is Anjali.” He tried to speak, but his voice caught in his throat. Anjali smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she said. Rohan’s heart skipped a beat. He felt like he’d known her forever.
With each passing day, Rohan and Anjali would converse for hours. She’d meet him at Pehchaan the street school, and they’d sit and watch the children at play. Anjali assisted him with his work, providing words of comfort and encouragement. Rohan had a sense of tranquillity that he’d never experienced before. Anjali was his refuge, his sanctuary.
The kids adored Anjali as well, though they had no idea she was a ghost. They’d play with her, laughing and running around the school. Anjali would play along, her laughter ringing through the hallways. Rohan would stand there, fascinated, appreciative of this presence in his life.
Part 4: An Unlikely Bond
Schizophrenia in Rohan made his family anxious about his relationships. They considered him too delicate, too vulnerable. But Anjali was different. She knew him the way no one else could. She’d show up for him at Pehchaan the street school, and they’d spend hours discussing everything and nothing.
Anjali would hear Rohan’s doubts, his fears, his dreams. She’d give him words of solace, telling him he wasn’t alone. Rohan was drawn to Anjali deeply, feeling a belonging that he’d never known before. He knew Anjali was a ghost, but he didn’t mind. She was real to him, realer than anything else.
As time passed, Rohan and Anjali became closer to one another. They’d sit side by side under the night sky, discussing their dreams and aspirations. Anjali’d share stories about her life, about those whom she’d loved and lost. Rohan would listen, transfixed, feeling an incredibly strong connection with this spectre.
The kids at Pehchaan the street school liked Anjali as well. They’d play with her, laugh with her, and cry with her. Anjali was a part of their world, a presence that they’d grown to love and trust. Rohan was thankful to have Anjali in his life, to have this feeling of connection and belonging.
Part 5: The Weight of Secrets
It was difficult for Rohan to keep his affair with Anjali hidden. His family believed he was deteriorating, hearing voices and perceiving things that were not there. But Anjali existed to him — more so than anything else. He shared his struggles, his fears, his aspirations with her. Anjali listened, speaking words of encouragement.
Rohan’s parents attempted to intervene, concerned about his fixation on the “voice” and the “ghost.” They didn’t get it. Kanika Narula, founder of Pehchaan the street school, saw Rohan change — the serenity, the purpose — but she did not inquire. She observed the positive in Rohan’s work and the affection that he was bringing to the children.
Anjali’s presence was mysterious, but its effect was real. The children adored her, and Rohan adored her. She was in their lives, a presence which they had grown to believe in and love. Rohan knew that he could not keep it a secret always, but for the moment, he was happy to have Anjali by his side.
As the days passed, Rohan and Anjali’s relationship strengthened. They’d sit side by side, observing the children play, and Rohan’d feel a deep peace. He knew that Anjali was a ghost, but he didn’t care. She existed for him, and that was all that mattered.
Part 6: The Past Revealed
Anjali’s tale came slowly to light. She’d died young, her life brutally shortened by a street collision in Pehchaan the street school. Her soul remained, vainly seeking meaning. Rohan was her link to the world, her reason to remain. The more time he spent with her, the more Rohan came to see that Anjali’s existence was not merely a solace — it was a lifeline.
Anjali revealed her life to Rohan, the individuals she’d loved and lost. Rohan listened, entranced, with a profound sense of solidarity toward this spectral figure. He understood Anjali was caught between two worlds, looking for a means to leave the one she was in. But she wasn’t ready to release it yet.
Rohan knew Anjali’s suffering, her loss. He’d had his own share of trauma, his own share of suffering. But the presence of Anjali had transformed him, had opened his eyes to the world. He knew he wasn’t alone, that there were people out there who did know him.
As the months passed, Rohan and Anjali’s relationship strengthened. They’d sit together, observing the children at play, and Rohan would feel a profound sense of calm. He realized that Anjali was a ghost, but he didn’t mind. She was real to him, and that was all that counted.
Part 7: The World Doesn’t Understand
Rohan’s relatives attempted to break in, concerned about his fascination with the “voice” and the “ghost.” They couldn’t grasp. Kanika Narula, the founder of Pehchaan the street school, observed Rohan’s change — the serenity, the meaning — but she didn’t ask questions. She witnessed the value of Rohan’s work and the affection he had for the children.
The world would never understand Rohan and Anjali’s relationship. They’d be criticized, judged, and cast away. But Rohan couldn’t care less. He knew that Anjali was genuine, that she was his link to the world. He’d struggle for their love, for their relationship.
As the days passed, the relationship between Rohan and Anjali became stronger. They’d sit alongside each other and watch the kids play, and Rohan would feel at peace. He knew that Anjali was a ghost, but he didn’t mind. She felt real to him, and that was all that mattered.
The kids at Pehchaan the street school adored Anjali, too. They’d play with Anjali, laugh with Anjali, and cry with Anjali. Anjali was a member of their lives, a figure they’d come to trust and love. Rohan was thankful to have Anjali in his life, to feel this sense of belongingness and togetherness.
Part 8: Love Beyond Boundaries
Rohan and Anjali grew closer. They’d stay out late at night, sitting under the stars, sharing their dreams, their fears, their everything. Rohan had come to understand that love has no limits — not life, not death, not sanity. Anjali loved him for himself, schizophrenia and all. She accepted him without reservation, and he did the same.
In Anjali’s eyes, Rohan saw love that went beyond the living and the dead. He saw love that was unconditional, pure, and eternal. Rohan felt he’d found his soulmate in Anjali, his companion in every meaning of the term.
The rest of the world may not see their love, but Rohan did not care. He knew Anjali was real, that she was his anchor to the world. He’d battle for their love, for their relationship. Rohan and Anjali’s relationship grew stronger with each passing day. They’d sit side by side, watching the children at play, and Rohan would feel at peace.
Part 9: The Storm Within
One evening, Rohan’s schizophrenia ran amok. The voices in his mind became deafening, at war, and horrifying. Anjali’s voice alone could soothe him. She embraced him, spoke softly into his ear, and gradually, the turmoil receded. Rohan comprehended that Anjali wasn’t merely a spectre — she was his haven, his refuge.
Together, they’d ride out any storm. Rohan was aware that Anjali was his anchor, his reason to remain earthed in a world that frequently seemed to be too much for him to bear. He was thankful for her presence within his life, her love and acceptance.
As the days passed, Rohan and Anjali’s relationship strengthened. They’d sit side by side, watching the other children play, and Rohan would feel intensely at peace. He knew that Anjali was a ghost, but he didn’t care. She was real to him, and that was all that mattered.
The kids at Pehchaan the street school adored Anjali as well. They’d play along with her, laugh with her, and cry with her. Anjali was part of their world, a presence they’d grown to accept and cherish. Rohan was thankful to have Anjali in his life, to feel this sense of belonging and connection.
Part 10: Eternal Love
Rohan’s story isn’t about sanity or reality; it’s about love. In a world that often judges, Anjali accepted him wholly. At Pehchaan- the street school surrounded by children and the whispers of the past, Rohan and Anjali built a life beyond the boundaries of the living.
Their romance became a legend, a reminder of the strength of love that goes against all reason. And when Rohan gazed at Anjali’s eyes, he knew he’d found his eternity — in life, in death, in all that was in between. The world would not believe their love, but Rohan didn’t care. He knew that Anjali existed, that she was his bridge to the world.
As the sun went down over Pehchaan the street school the street school, Rohan and Anjali would sit side by side, observing the children at play. They’d share their aspirations, their anxieties, their everything. Rohan would be full of peace, knowing that Anjali was there for him. He was sure that their love would never end, a love which crossed the limits of life and death.
