Unspoken But Not Broken

The terrace was alive with stories, secrets, and the sound of countless footsteps. It was more than just a space; it was a stage where friendships blossomed, hearts raced, and memories etched themselves into the concrete. The residents of the building—young and old—had grown together, weaving a community where everyone had a place.

Humera, just 20, stood at its heart. Petite at 5 feet, she was a whirlwind of chatter, her hijab framing a soft, expressive face. Though her voice carried sweetness, it was never loud; Humera spoke with elegance and warmth, her bubbly personality lighting up every corner she graced. She was quick to smile, quick to help, and endlessly talkative—but only around her friends. Strangers, boys, and especially Aiyaz—the tall, intimidating 21-year-old who loomed at 6 feet with a gym-sculpted physique—stilled her completely.

Her friends were her sanctuary. Mariyam, 20 and 5'6, was tall and beautiful with almond-shaped eyes and a calm demeanor that perfectly complemented her warmth. Zahra, taller still at 5'7, had curls that bounced when she walked, exuding confidence, while Ayna, with her petite 5'4 frame and lively brown eyes, matched Zahra's fiery energy with quiet mischief. Together, the duo had nursed hopeless crushes on Aiyaz during their teenage years. But over time, reality nudged them toward other loves.

Zahra met Aneeb a kind-hearted, witty young man from Aiyaz's circle who adored her fire. Ayna found love with Sameer, one of Aiyaz and Arhaam's closest friends. These men—along with Rayyan and Arhaam—completed the boys' circle, all of them 21 years old. Arhaam, with his 5'9 stature, dashing features, and easygoing nature, won Mariyam's heart. His proposal had been simple and sincere—spoken under the stars one evening on the terrace. "Mariyam, tumse zyada perfect koi ho hi nahi sakta. Meri banogi?" (Mariyam, no one can be as perfect as you, will you be mine?) he had said, making Mariyam blush furiously as her friends teased her for days.

The terrace itself was a universe of people. Among the oldest friends of Humera and Aiyaz were Maria, Andrew, Haaris, Shobita, Meena, Anisha, Ashi, Azra, Falak, Junaid, and Shahid—kids who had grown up together since the building's inception. They were a mix of Christians, Hindus, and Muslims, and their friendships knew no bounds. Maria and Andrew often teased Humera affectionately, while Shobita and Meena loved pulling her into gossip sessions. Junaid, the quiet and observant one, often watched over them like a protective brother.

Imran, though not part of Humera's immediate gang, held a special place in her life. At 23, he was like an older brother to her and everyone around, always checking in.

The other groups filled the terrace with life. The Iyer brothers, tall, sharp-featured, and Tamil-speaking, often debated in loud voices, while the Fernandez sisters—Angelina and Jennifer—giggled at their arguments, their soft laughter infectious. Then there were boys like Sam, Dhruv, and Viren, whose games and pranks provided endless entertainment for the younger ones.

But not everyone was kind-hearted. Vanya, tall and striking with her sharp eyes and intimidating posture, ruled her own gang—Manar, Ayzal, Daggu, and Prasanna. Vanya's beauty and confidence made her the center of attention, coming from the riches of her dad, but her actions were far from pure. She rarely spoke to Humera, but her disdain came through in silent actions—"accidentally" bumping into her, stepping on her dupatta, or excluding her from conversations. Vanya's group often watched Humera with sneers, jealous of the way others adored her, especially Aiyaz.

Yet Humera remained unchanged. Hers and Mariyam's kindness and selflessness were their defining traits. They helped the aunts of the building carry groceries, assisted kids with studies, and never hesitated to lend a hand. The older women adored them.

"Humi, tu kabhi chup ho sakti hai kya?" (Humi, don't you ever stop?) Mariyam often teased, laughing as Humera animatedly narrated stories of her day. Even when the boys teased her, Humera held her own. But her confidence would always falter in one presence—Aiyaz.

Once, Humera was mid-sentence, teasing Zahra and Ayna about Areeb and Sameer. "Dekho toh, yeh log toh mujhe time hi nahi dete—ab sirf boyfriend boyfriend hai..." (look, these people never give me time, it's just always boyfriend boyfriend these days...). Her voice suddenly faltered. Aiyaz had walked onto the terrace, his broad silhouette casting a shadow. Humera's words died on her lips, and she looked down, fidgeting with her dupatta.

The silence wasn't lost on her friends. Ayna whispered, "Dekho, Humi ka volume low ho gaya!" (See, Humi's voice went stray!) Mariyam giggled, "Woh kya hai na...Arhaan ne battery nikaal li." (looks like Arhaan has removed the battery). Humera shot them a glare, cheeks flushed, but they knew the truth. Aiyaz was the only one who could still her voice.

Everyone on the terrace knew that Aiyaz's quiet, observant gaze lingered on Humera longer than anyone else. They also knew Humera's chatter—so free-flowing otherwise—ceased entirely in his presence. Neither had spoken a word to the other, yet the tension between them hummed louder than any voice.

But life wasn't always kind to those who radiated light. Humera, once a quiet child, had blossomed into the terrace's beloved chatterbox because of the warmth of those around her. Yet, in the shadows, there were forces waiting to steal her joy. Circumstances would soon quiet her voice again, turning her back into the silent girl she had once been—only this time, it wouldn't be by choice.

For now, the terrace was alive with laughter and life, a mosaic of friendships, love, and unspoken emotions. And at its center was Humera—soft-spoken yet endlessly vibrant, fragile yet resilient. She was the soul of the terrace, unaware of how soon that soul would be tested.