It was 6:30 AM.
Like every other day, 25-year-old Shweta woke up. Her face looked dull—no spark, no excitement. The sun hadn't risen yet, and the weather outside was slightly cold. She wrapped her scarf around her neck, dressed in her straight-fit jeans and shirt, packed her tiffin and water bottle, and stepped out for work.
As she walked, the first rays of the sun started to appear. She glanced at it and whispered softly to herself,
"What's really changed in my life… even before you wake up, I'm already running."
She caught her usual bus—packed as always, suffocating and crowded. But Shweta didn't complain. She seemed used to it now.
"This isn't real struggle, Shweta," she told herself in her mind.
She finally reached her office—a massive IT park surrounded by tall glass buildings and endless crowds.
A voice begins to narrate:
"When you truly feel alone, being in a public place like this can sometimes heal you. Strangers smile at you—not because they know you, but because they don't. And that's the beauty of it. They don't judge you."
Shweta noticed the lift was full, as usual. Without hesitation, she took the stairs and climbed to her floor. She reached, only to see everyone already buried in their screens, busy with their work.
Her team leader shouted at her for being five minutes late. Shweta listened silently and didn't say a word.
She looked around and said in her heart:
"This is the corporate world. The faces I see every day have no real conversations—only gossip.
They say they hate backbiters, but they themselves do it constantly. They care more about others' lives than their own. And if you're talking about someone here, trust me, they're talking about you too."
Then she smiled slightly and thought,
"And me? I pretend to be the dumbest girl around, acting like I don't care. But still, people seem so interested in me.
One thing I've understood very clearly—if you believe that being nice to everyone means they'll be nice to you in return, you're wrong. It's just their habit to backbite.
And if they think you're a bad person, then… prove them right. Why not?"
By the time her work ended, it was already 10:30 PM. Shweta walked to her regular bus stop under the night sky.
Looking up, she whispered to the stars:
"Why are you always this late, night?
You're the only thing I've ever loved,
Because in your silence, I finally feel alone—
Something I used to hate,
But now… I think I understand.
Being alone is not always bad."
We see a beautiful night view—the sky full of stars and the soft, glowing moon.
And just then, a voice says:
"Even the night fears her own darkness.
So she brings the moon and stars for company."
Shweta sat quietly on a bench at the bus stop, closed her eyes, and murmured to God:
"Why did you make my life like this? Why me? It's miserable. I'm so alone…
No one loves me, no one understands me,
Not even at work. No one is real."
And then she spoke from her heart:
"If only I could go back to my past… I would change everything."
It was 11:11 PM.
At that moment, a flash of light hit her eyes. She quickly opened them—
And to her shock, it was morning again.
Confused and overwhelmed, she looked around.
Something felt different. She heard someone crying behind the bus stop—a part she had never seen before.
She slowly walked to the back, thinking,
"I've been coming here for so long… but I never knew this side existed."
She thought maybe she was dreaming. She turned to look behind—but the way she came from had vanished.
Her heart skipped a beat.
"This has to be a dream…" she said, trying to convince herself.
The sound of crying grew louder.
She walked closer and gently placed her hand on the shoulder of the little girl who was crying.
"Why are you crying?" she asked softly, warmly.
The girl slowly looked up at her.
And Shweta froze.
The girl looked exactly like her—her 10-year-old self.
Shweta gasped.
"Is this really happening?"
She couldn't believe her eyes.
"Did I just time travel…?"
The screen fades to black.
chapter one ends here.