Rooftops !

This has been one of the darkest moments of my life. My hands tremble, my body shakes, my breath feels heavy, and my heart feels even heavier as I write this. I'm forcing myself to relive those moments, to capture them in words. Many of you might wonder why I would choose to revisit something so painful and overwhelming. The truth is, as much as I dread the thought of reliving it, I can’t bear to skip it. I need to return to that moment to understand the significance of the events that shaped me into the person I am today, strong yet gentle.

Rooftops are often romanticized as places where love blossoms, where we witness beautiful sunrises and sunsets. For me, though, rooftops have also become a symbol of a time when I felt I couldn’t go on. This is going to be a long, sorrowful, yet profoundly inspiring story of my life, a pivotal turning point. So, consider this a trigger warning.

I am naturally a bright, vibrant person who believes in love, trust, and faith in both people and the universe, despite having faced harm and betrayal. After all, how can one survive if not for this? Even in the midst of life's disasters, I’ve had a circle of trusted people, those who have stood by me for years and never given me reason to doubt them. They are the ones who keep me going. But what happens when the very people who were once my lifeline become the reason for my despair? The world can be brutally harsh.

I’ve loved Pune since I first arrived in 2019. During the pandemic, I had to leave for a year and a half, but by 2021, after struggling to make my parents understand my purpose in life, I decided to return. I needed peace and clarity, and I believed Pune was where I’d find it. When I landed in January 2022, nervous but hopeful, I was eager to reclaim my sense of direction. As I boarded a cab to meet one of my best friends from school, I rolled down the window and breathed in the fresh air. The streets were empty but felt safe, just as I had imagined. It was one of my best post-COVID days.

A month later, I moved in with my friend into a cosy apartment we found at a reasonable price. It was there that I met someone who would become the best romantic relationships of my life. At that time, I wasn’t looking for anything serious, having just ended a six-year relationship. I wasn’t ready for deep commitment, but I enjoyed having someone in my life. Having always been in relationships since my teenage years, I found it hard to be alone. He brought a sense of ease and comfort to my life. Things were okay. We all go through rough patches, but I had a great friend and a loving partner who pampered me. So, I can deal with everything else. Who wouldn’t right?

Then one day, my friend dropped some unsettling news that we had to vacate the apartment due to issues with the house and the landlord. It turned out there had been a suicide in the flat just before we moved in, which explained the cheap rent. While the idea of living where someone had died was disturbing, the immediate need to move out was more complicated for me personally. Managing my finances to support both my family and myself made the sudden prospect of relocating incredibly stressful.We discussed the situation and agreed to start looking for a new place while continuing to stay in the apartment. However, things escalated when more people became involved. Some of my friend's friends began sensing a presence in the house, which made it harder for her to remain there. I could see the strain on her face, and I suggested we take the month to find a new place, hoping to avoid any long-term negativity for us.

The next morning, she informed me that her health was deteriorating and we couldn’t stay in the apartment any longer. Although we had begun to have differences, I still wanted to support her. Without her, I would have been alone in the city. Sure, I had the guy I was dating, but I’d only known him for a month and didn’t feel I could rely on him the way I did with her. We decided to stay in a hotel for a few days, which she found, and planned to move to a new place after that.On the first night at the hotel, I struggled to sleep. I was overwhelmed with work, packing, and handling my finances. I couldn’t talk to anyone about it since it involved my friend, and I knew it was just a phase that would pass. Around 1:30 a.m., feeling suffocated by my emotions, I messaged the guy I was seeing and asked if we could get some fresh air. He told me to wait until he called me down. But as I waited, the pressure of staying in the room became too much, so I decided to take a walk. My friend was asleep, and despite our differences, I didn’t want to disturb her with my own feelings.

I went downstairs and began walking, occasionally glancing at the road, hoping he would arrive soon. I saw a scooty approaching and, thinking it was him, I hurried over, but it wasn’t him. I ignored it and kept pacing in front of the hotel. The scooty made a U-turn and came back towards me, stopping nearby. The rider asked me for directions to a specific address, which I didn’t know. He repeated the address, and again, I said I wasn’t familiar with the area. Then he mentioned that he was getting married soon and wanted to ask me some questions. Before I fully processed what was happening, he flashed himself to me. I gasped and turned away from him. Normally, I would have slapped him or called for help , the hotel was right there, and the guard was nearby but I couldn’t summon the strength to react. I was frozen in shock, unable to move.He sped off, leaving me standing there, paralyzed. Just then, I saw my date's car pull up beside me. I somehow gathered myself enough to get into the car, grabbing his arm tightly. Once I had regained some composure, I explained what had happened. He immediately urged me to file a police report, but I refused. I wasn’t ready to deal with another complication. I felt a sense of calm with him by my side, which helped me stay composed. 

The next day, my friend had to leave to stay at her sister’s place because of her health, and I was left alone at the hotel. It was difficult to get any sleep there because I was terrified. The following day, I got a call from her saying it would take some time before we could move into our new place, so I could go back to our old apartment. I didn’t complain, wanting to be understanding, but I was growing frustrated. There was so much I was dealing with, and no one was aware of it except for the guy I had only met a month ago. I was starting to distance myself from her because she, on the other hand, had her friends, her boyfriend, and her family. Meanwhile, all I had was her and she was also drifting away. I checked out of the hotel and went back to our old apartment. The place was a mess because we had packed everything, and things were scattered everywhere. The beds were unmade, and all our clothes and utensils were packed, but I still had to work amidst the chaos, so I didn’t complain. 

At night, it was hard to sleep alone in the mess, knowing that someone had recently committed suicide in that apartment. I asked the guy I was seeing if he could stay with me. He was the only person I could depend on at that moment, and he knew it, so he came over. We laid out the mattress and slept. The next day, I asked him again if he could stay, and though he didn’t refuse, I understood how difficult it was for him to sneak out late and leave early in the morning before his parents noticed. Being Indian, as long as you live with your parents, no matter how old you get, you’re still accountable to them. I didn’t want to put him through that, especially since we had only just met. It didn’t feel fair to him, though he had been more than available for me. So, I decided to stay alone. It was just a matter of one night, after all. By 10 p.m., I started feeling uneasy, but my emotions soon turned into an overwhelming wave of aggression. I broke down, went into the room where the suicide had happened, and screamed at the altar. I yelled at the person who had taken their life, blaming them for ruining my friendship and putting me in a situation where I had to stay in a hotel, where I was molested. I cried for being so alone, screaming at a soul that had already left. I hoped for it to appear, to say sorry for putting me through all this. But, of course, no one appeared. Exhausted from all the crying, I fell asleep early that night.

The next day, we moved into our new place. My friend’s health had worsened significantly, so she had to leave for her home, and I was left to stay in the new apartment alone for a few months. I felt both sad and relieved. After everything I had been through in just a week, I wasn’t ready to share space with her again. I knew I would be bitter, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship because I still loved her. Even though the bond felt like it was fading, I didn’t want it to fall apart. I wanted her to find peace, just as I was trying to find mine.

During those months, the only constant I had in the city was this new person who had been with me through everything. He loved me, pampered me, and was there for me in ways I never expected. I grew incredibly fond of him. He was everything a girl could ask for, everything I had ever wanted. He was like the bright sun in my life when all I could see was darkness. He helped pull me out of that dark place. He was like a dream.He would order me chocolate waffles and bring me chocolate bouquets on my periods. He would  travel 50 kilometers in less than an hour, just to ring my doorbell and tell me how much he missed me. He didn’t want me to leave the city because he would miss me too much. He would feed me in between my meetings when I couldn’t find time to eat because of work. Once, he drove across the city, from one Starbucks to another, just to get me the specific cheesecake with blueberry sauce I was craving. He would pick me up from bars when I got drunk and couldn’t or didn’t want to find a cab. He practically took care of me and all my tantrums. He gave me the warmest hugs, and in his arms, I felt safe. Man, oh man, do I want anything less than that? No, never. He became my everything in just three months. This person loved me so much, and I loved him just as deeply. But happiness didn’t last long. We realized that, due to certain circumstances in our lives, we had no future together and decided to part ways.

It was yet another one of the most difficult days of my life. I couldn’t eat, and I found myself crying at random moments. I cried while laughing with friends. I cried in the office, in autos, in markets, in salons. I didn’t know how to stop the tears. It felt like an uncontrollable flood of emotion. I realized I needed a change of environment, or I wouldn’t be able to heal. So, I made the decision to go to Delhi for a few months and stay at my cousin’s place.This cousin had been my greatest confidant since childhood. To him, I was always the little child he looked after, and his wife embraced me in the same way once they got married. Their home was my safe haven, my happy place, and I knew I could lean on them when everything else felt uncertain.I packed my bags and left. Once I got there, I started spending time with them, drinking and having fun. I poured my heart out, sharing everything that had happened. I even had a few friends in Delhi NCR who I’d meet over the weekends. For a brief period, I felt like I was finally getting better, finally beginning to heal. But just as I thought I was recovering, things turned upside down for me once again.



One fine night, my cousin's wife went to her parents' place for a function, leaving me and my cousin alone. He suggested we have a drink, but for some reason, I had a gut feeling that something was off. We have had drinks just the other night, me my cousin and her wife together but this time, I decided to decline.. After one or two drinks, my cousin suddenly said he wanted to confess something but was unsure about it. I advised him not to say anything unless he was certain, but he insisted on confessing, stating he wasn't worried about the consequences. He revealed that he had feelings for me and that he didn't like the idea of my first boyfriend when I told him about it back in college. I sat there unable to process anything. I am 10 years younger to him and his sister. I tried to avoid the situation by steering clear of the conversation, but he continued to ramble. Unable to say anything, I finally asked him to go to sleep. I stayed in another room for quite some time, ensuring he was asleep before I, too, went to bed. The next morning, we were supposed to fetch his wife, and I felt a sense of relief that she'd be returning, hoping this situation would just be a bad memory for me which never existed. However, when we got there, something happened, and my cousin and his wife got into an argument, resulting in her not coming back home.



That night, he wasn’t drunk. He went to bed while I stayed up, delaying sleep under the guise of working. It was after 2 AM when I finally went to the room, making sure he was already asleep. I brought everything with me—my laptop, notebooks, anything I could use as a barrier between us. Even then, I continued working on my laptop because I couldn’t bring myself to sleep. I had plans to leave for my friend's place the next morning anyway.Suddenly, he woke up and said, "Tell me all the people who touch women inappropriately are wrong. It’s happened to you too, right? So how are they wrong, and I’m not, when I’m thinking of doing the same but not acting on it?" I was horrified. I yelled at him to shut up and go to sleep, unsure of what else to do. Then he poked my left arm and asked, “Do you not feel anything?” I felt a wave of disgust and fear wash over me. I screamed again for him to be quiet and go back to sleep. He eventually did, while I stayed awake as long as I could, but at some point, I must have dozed off.Later, still drowsy, I woke up slightly and found myself pressed against the wall, as if even in my sleep, I was trying to protect myself. I felt fingers on top of my head. Panicking, I realized they were his. I swatted his hand away and edged closer to the wall, wishing I could disappear into it. He mumbled, “Do you want to hug and sleep?” I pretended to be asleep, but he pressed, “At least say yes or no!” Disgusted, I snapped, “NO!” He repeated “No?” as if he couldn’t believe I had refused. I waited anxiously for him to leave for work. As soon as he did, I packed my bags in a hurry and went straight to my friend’s place. It took me two hours to get there, and when I arrived, we laughed and talked as if nothing had happened. We even went out for dinner. But later that night, sitting in her balcony, I finally broke down. I told her everything, and in that moment, the weight of what had happened hit me. I couldn’t hold back the tears and cried for what felt like hours. A week later, I left for Pune.



Coming back was deeply unsettling. I had left hoping to heal, but I returned carrying even more emotional baggage. It became hard for me to stay with anyone. Even though I was living with just one of my girlfriends, I found myself locking the door multiple times before I could even attempt to sleep. It became unbearable to lie beside anyone, even a woman. I stopped taking cabs altogether, opting for auto rickshaws instead, convincing myself that if something went wrong, at least I could jump out and escape. I felt trapped in my own body, suffocated by the constant anxiety.I tried evening walks, hoping that nature might help me heal, but nothing seemed to work. One evening, after one of these walks, I returned to my apartment and found it crowded with my friend and her friends. Their presence felt overwhelming, like it was suffocating me. I hurried to my room, but the feeling only intensified. Desperate for air, I ran up to the terrace and sat between the water containers, trying to catch my breath. My emotions felt like a heavy burden, and it became hard to breathe. I needed someone—anyone—by my side, but I felt utterly alone.My best friend felt distant, the person I once loved was gone, and my childhood confidant, my cousin, my elder brother—someone I had always trusted—had shattered my faith in others. I tried calling a few friends, but no one answered. I was losing control. Before I knew it, I found myself standing tall on the terrace railing. 



It was a four-story apartment. As I stood there on the terrace railing, the fresh breeze brushed across my face, soothing my turbulent emotions. For a brief moment, it felt liberating, as if no one could hurt me anymore. I glanced down, calculating the fall. I knew that I would only end up with broken bones and limbs, nothing more. I stayed there for nearly 10 minutes, letting the wind carry away my worries and allowing my racing heart to slow down. The urge to do something reckless had passed, but I remained standing, trying to understand what had driven me to this point. What had made my life feel so unbearable? I started asking myself, "What could be more important to me than my own existence? Do I really want to end everything just because others were wrong? Do I need someone so desperately that, without them, I lose sight of my purpose?" Was I really that shallow? In that moment, I realized I couldn’t keep blaming others for everything that went wrong in my life. I had to take control. I needed to love myself and make myself a priority. Yes, there had been painful betrayals, moments of disgust, but there were still people who cared about me, people who were happy simply because I existed. They didn’t need anything from me, just my presence in this world, even if I wasn’t physically with them. With that thought, I stepped down from the railing, returned to my room, and finally allowed myself a peaceful sleep.


Today ,as I reflect on that moment, I realize how grateful I am for the strength that kept me standing. I am deeply sorry to all the people who love me, who would have been hurt by the choice I almost made. It was wrong of me to let my pain overshadow the love and care they’ve given me. Today, I’m thankful for every challenge, every hardship, and every scar because they’ve shaped me into who I am—stronger and more resilient. I now understand that my journey isn’t just mine alone; it’s intertwined with the lives of those who care about me. I am grateful for the love that surrounds me, even in my darkest moments, and for the lessons that life continues to teach. To anyone reading this, no matter how hard it gets, there is always something worth holding on to. Choose to live, choose to grow, and trust that the strength you need is already within you.