Pull the thread

(go on, tug it)

act one

Where the thread began

I don't remember much from before you arrived. Just that the house got louder, and better, the day you did.

Nikunj as a young boy standing behind baby Divyanshi, who is dressed in a white bonnet and robe — I was already there when they brought you in. I didn't know yet how much that would matter.

Nikunj in a yellow t-shirt crouched behind baby Divyanshi, who is sitting on the floor with a colourful ball — You couldn't even sit up properly and I was already the one keeping an eye on you.

Divyanshi and Nikunj smiling together in winter caps and glasses — Years later, same two people. Just taller, and somehow still finding excuses to take a photo together.

act two

The tangle

We fought. We slammed doors. We lived in different cities and forgot to call. The thread knotted. It never broke.

Divyanshi and Nikunj standing together outdoors under greenery, his arm around her shoulder — Somewhere between kids and grown-ups, still figuring out how to be around each other.

An old printed photo of the two of them pinned to a corkboard, surrounded by university flyers — You pinned us to your board on the other side of the world and called it close enough.

act three

Who you became

This part isn't about us. It's about you.

Nikunj and Divyanshi close together, both wearing sunglasses, smiling — Better camera, better clothes, same two people leaning into every photo together.

Nikunj as a young boy and baby Divyanshi sitting together outdoors at night — I already knew, even back then, that I'd spend my whole life keeping an eye on this one.

The whole family gathered around a table, cutting a birthday cake together — Every celebration in this family somehow turns into all of us, crowded around one table.

Nikunj and Divyanshi standing together in front of a large framed wall map — Somewhere far from home, and it still felt like home because you were there.

Now tie the knot

or tap the thread ends