For a month, Ayush's life rotated like a hamster wheel. Wake up, ride to the office, attend meetings, return home, sleep. Repeat it over and over. He made a deal with Sakshi not to call or message her till her exams were completed, however, she could call him in case of an emergency or doubt. Such a scenario didn't arise.

His boss, Yash the alligator, had morphed into a teeny bunny after interacting with Sakshi. That was a bummer as Ayush's life was turning boring. He craved for some thrill, even if it meant locking horns with Yash, but the latter ceased bothering him. Gaurav's family were off to Pune for fifteen days as two of his cousins were tying the knot.

Only Amar Singh kept him company during the evenings with teatime and commentary on cricket matches. The months spent with Sakshi had soaked his life with colours. Without her, his entire world looked like globs of black and white. Not even a hint of grey.

Another monotonous Sunday. Amar

slumbered in his room after taking his medicines. Ayush rested on the bed with his phone, revisiting the songs he and Sakshi used to listen to. A part of him still couldn't come to terms that she accepted his love. Convincing both their families would be a mammoth task. Maybe a miracle might happen which would change their parents' minds. He didn't have to worry about that for another two years till Sakshi completed her MBA.

A message popped on his phone screen. Naveen Bansal. Wondering what prompted the man to get in touch again, Ayush answered the call.

"Good after, Ayush."

"Very good afternoon, Naveen."

During the course of the inauguration, Naveen and Ayush started conversing on a first name basis.

"Would this be a good time to talk to you?"

"Of course."

"I was wondering if you'd be free this evening?"

"Don't have anything lined up. What's it about?"

"It's a special opportunity from a small-time music director. Can you come over to Darsh Music Studio? It's near Planet Mall, I'll send the address."

His palms tingled at the prospect. "Sure!"

"Five PM, today?"

"Perfect!"

"I won't be coming, but you need not worry. I've told everything about you to the composer."

"Oh, alright, Naveen. It would be nice if you're also present."

"I'd love to join you, but I have some work. You go ahead. All the best!"

"Thanks, Naveen. Looking forward to it."

Ayush sat up straight, stretching out his arms and legs on the bed. He rapped his fingers to an internal tune humming in his mind. He speculated what the new offer could be- another inaugural ceremony? A wedding orchestra? Whatever it was, he would give his best and prove his mettle as a singer.

When Amar woke up in the evening, Ayush sported a sweatshirt with corduroy pants. He engaged himself in meticulously dusting the strings and bridge pins of his guitar with a soft brush. He flashed a quick smile at his father and continued to work.

"Ashu, what's all this for?"

"Remember Mr Naveen Bansal, Papa?"

"That event organiser?"

"Yeah, he called me a while ago. He has a new opportunity for me."

"How nice."

"Guess what? He invited me to a professional music studio!"

Amar's eyes brimmed with joy. "That's wonderful!"

Placing the instrument in a padded guitar bag, Ayush swung it over his shoulder. "I'm leaving, Papa."

Amar placed a hand on his head and blessed him. "Keep reaching new heights, son."

The corners of his mouth turned up and he hugged his father tight like an elated five-year-old. "I have no words to thank you for everything you have done for me, Papa. If I'm at this level, it's only because of you."

Amar tousled his hair. "If you're happy, that is enough for me."

Ayush started his bike, waved out to his father, and rode to the address Naveen had sent. He slowed down near the awning of the building with a glass board that read, 'Darsh Studios- Music & Memories'.

Glancing at his bike mirror, he adjusted his hair dishevelled by the helmet, finger combing it into a neat side parting. His stomach clenched tight and his mind was an insane mixture of fear and hope as he rang the doorbell.

A towering man with silver hair tied into a short ponytail appeared at the door. Lean and muscular, he pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and half-smiled at Ayush.

"Ayush Singh?"

"Yeah, sir."

"Great! Come on in."

Ayush stepped gingerly into the studio with plummeting breaths.

The man stretched his arm. "Darshak Deewars."

Hearing his full name, it struck Ayush as to who the man was. He placed one hand to his chest and bowed slightly, shaking the man's hand. "My pleasure to meet you, sir. I've heard your BGM in many advertisements."

The man raised an eyebrow with a pleased smile "I'm surprised you know. People don't know the music composers of ads."

"Your music is riveting, sir. Especially in the jewellery ad where a son buys a gold necklace for his elderly mother- that one is my favourite."

"That's one of the most complex compositions. I like your approach, Ayush."

"Thank you, sir. I was invited by Naveen Bansal . . ."

"I know, he floored me with your recordings."

He scratched his head and shrugged.

"Have a seat," Darshak said.

Ayush took off his guitar bag and settled on a revolving chair. His eyes inspected the fascinating studio. A digital workstation, an audio interface device, giant speakers, dual monitors, a variety of musical instruments, papers scribbled with lyrics, and a branded microphone. It was a musician's paradise.

Darshak grabbed a chair and sat opposite him. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thanks, sir."

"Tell me something about yourself and your tryst with music."

"I'm Ayush Singh from Pravisht Street Colony. My father has always been supportive of my musical journey. He sold his gold ring to get me my first guitar, a mini kids one. I still have it as memorabilia. I learnt music from a teacher in my locality and played during college fests."

"That's the history. Tell me what ignited the passion in you to become a musician."

"It has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. Papa says that when I was two years old, I loudly babbled songs heard on the radio. Also, my mother was a classically trained singer."

"I thought so! Nice that you had a role model to look up to."

"Actually, Mumma passed away when I was a baby."

"Oh, I'm sorry. But you have her skills. You have an inherent melody in your voice, my boy."

He gave a rueful grin.

"So as you know, I've been primarily focusing on advertisements and jingles. I'm planning to do something different this time- a love song," Darshak said.

Ayush nodded, not knowing why Darshak was briefing him about all this.

"I've arranged the beats and written the lyrics as well. Here, this is the raw version I sang this morning." Darshak handed him over a pair of cushioned headphones.

Ayush put it on and started to listen. A sweeping flute tune played in the beginning, followed by a traditional blend of sitar and tabla beats. Darshak's raw vocals empowered the music with romantic lyrics about the pain and reward of love. Every word reminded him of Sakshi. When the song came to an end, his heart overflowed with mixed emotions.

"This is one of the best compositions I've heard!"

Darshak gave a subtle smile and patted his shoulder. "Can you sing it for me?"

"Me?!"

"Yes, you."

Ayush's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Sir, how can I?"

"Your voice will be perfect for this song."

He stared at the man's trusting eyes, feeling inadequate as his shoulders slumped.

"You can do it, my boy. A singer must believe in himself."

"I do, sir. But I don't think I can do justice to such a beautiful song."

"Give it a try. If your voice doesn't suit it, I myself will show you out the door," Darshak said with a lopsided grin.

"Can I hear the song once more?"

"Hear it how many times you wish . . . I'll come in a while." Darshak left the studio as his phone buzzed.

Ayush played the song on loop, etching the tune, pitch and vocals in his mind. His gaze danced across the carpeted floor and accoustic panels on the walls. Much hard work and effort had gone into making this studio. After hearing the song nearly twenty times, he hummed along and captured the chorus in perfection.

"Can you sing the first stanza for me?" Darshak asked, returning inside.

Ayush kept the headphones aside and nodded. "Sure, sir."

Darshak turned on the monitor and selected the audio file without vocals. Switching on the speakers, he handed the lyrics sheet to him. The soulful music filled the room and Ayush gripped the paper with clammy fingers.

"Spring blossoms soar above the hills,

The evening skies hum a love song,

Meet me, oh my beloved,

Beyond the golden skies.

Run with me, my dear,

Beyond the golden skies."

"Bravo!" Darshak clapped vigorously.

The studio lights smouldered his gaze with delight. "Was it okay, sir?"

"It's more than my expectations. You hit that high note perfectly!'

His excitement knew no bounds. He was being complimented by a seasoned musician at his very first attempt.

"One place where you're lagging is the low pitch. It sounds flat. Keep practising that."

"Definitely, sir."

"So when can we meet for the recording session?"

He rubbed his shivering fingers and pondered. "Anytime, sir."

"How about the same time tomorrow? I want it to be done as soon as possible."

"Sure, sir. I have a request if possible."

"Tell me, my boy."

"Can I bring my father along?"

"Of course, but no video recordings will be permitted."

"Thanks a million, sir!"

"If you're okay with this commitment, you can sign the single song contact with Darshak Deewars Music Labels," he said, handing him a bunch of stapled papers.

"I'm okay with everything sir."

"This naive attitude won't help you survive in the music industry. You must be careful to read every word on the contract. People are waiting to exploit your innocence."

Ayush grinned and nodded. He felt a fatherly connection with Darshak Deewars. Taking half an hour, he read all the clauses of the contract, including payment details and ownership rights. Darshak was offering him 25,000 Rupees for the song.

"I read it completely and I agree to it, sir. I left my pen at home. Can you please lend me one?

Darshak nodded and passed him a vintage sapphire fountain pen with dents.

He hesitated. "This one?"

"I used this to sign my first contract thirty years ago. It writes smooth as butter."

He chuckled and jotted his signature at the bottom of the contract.

Darshak gave him a bear hug. "Welcome on board, my boy."

"Thanks a lot, sir. It's an honour to take off my musical career with you."

"My pleasure. I'll introduce you to the rest of the team tomorrow."

"Can't wait, sir!"

"Haha, I can see that. Practice well, don't strain your vocal cords. I hope you will impress my team."

"I'll try my best, sir."

After exchanging contact information, Ayush bid goodbye to Darshak. He was sceptical of people's lives changing overnight, now it was true in his case. He returned home, bursting with excitement about his first contract.

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