Shia grew up in a home where love was never absent, but somehow it was always just out of her reach. Her parents were good people — hardworking, well-meaning, devoted. But somewhere between their ambitions for her and their expectations of her, they forgot that she was still just a girl who needed to be held without a reason.

She was celebrated for her achievements but overlooked for her feelings. And so she learned early that the world rewards your accomplishments. Only you are responsible for your own heart.

When her father died, it changed everything. Her world stopped there; her dreams were on hold, and responsibilities were stacking up on her shoulders. The family's anchor was gone overnight, and suddenly it was just Shia, her mother, and her little brother.

The dream she had quietly nursed for years, the PhD abroad, the freedom to fly, it all became a far-fetched wish, something she folded up carefully and put away. Her mother needed her, because her brother needed his sister when they lost their father. Because she has always been the kind of person who stays.

She is terrified of people leaving. So she holds on — perhaps a little too tightly — to those who stay. Her unrequited love taught her enough not to break; rather, it gave her strength. It didn't break her belief in love. But it broke her trust in her own judgment.

A girl sitting on a bench inside the DU campus jotting down some notes. Her open hair flew with the frantic wind, a hair strand caught between her lips which make her stop writing to remove it.

At that moment she looked up and her eyes fell on a couple. Sitting on the grass spread like a velvet blanket, talking and laughing. The girl is expressing herself animatedly, throwing her hands here and there. She is happy.

The guy is admiring her with a soft smile on his face. Allowing her inner child to express herself freely without the fear of being judged. Even for a second he reached out to tuck a hair strand behind her ear. He is in love.

They both are in love. They're happy and enjoying their own company.

She looks down at her notes and quietly adds at the end of it…Love comes with an abundance of joy when it becomes redamancy.

She closes her journal and stands up. A long deep sigh escapes her pink lips. A sudden gush of wind kissed her cheeks, pulling a soft smile on her face.

She turns back to leave just then a small sticky note fell from her journal. She didn't notice it and walked away with the tote bag.

Love is cure, Love is strength. Love is joy, love is pain. Love is everything we need to feel whole. ~ Shia Sinha ♥

The hopeless romantic researcher is none other than Shia Sinha herself. Her notes, simple observation and aspects towards life makes her different from any other researchers. People chase unnecessarily complicated ideas, difficult topics to analyze but she chose what she is best at. Decoding someone when they forget what to feel anymore.

That note flew away with the strong wind, far away from the city and stuck to the windshield of a passing car.

The car sped up carrying the piece of paper with it and reached its destination.

The convoy stopped.

One man came out of the SUV wearing all black, approached the Rolls Royce and peeled something off the windshield.

A small crumpled piece of paper.

He handed it to the person sitting inside the car without a word.

The man almost didn't take it, almost threw it away.

Almost.

Instead he quietly read it once. His fist clenched on his lap.

‘Love is cure, Love is strength. Love is joy, love is pain. Love is everything we need to feel whole.’

“Women are delusional. Writing about ‘Love’ is nothing but a weakness.” He said dismissively in his quiet dark voice. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “They need to grow up and touch the grass.”

His voice was not loud but everyone around him heard it quite well. All the men looked down at his words. Maybe they agreed with it somewhere in their heart, or maybe they strongly disagreed but couldn't say it in front of him.

A man who believed love was weakness had no reason to keep this.

And yet.

He crushed the paper into his palm and unapologetically threw it out of the window. It landed on the concrete with a defeated metaphor.

Everyone saw that; everyone knows the man he is and the demeanour he carries everywhere. Not a single soul raised their eyes, not even when he brutally walked over the note.