"Beyond The Boundary "

When the Letter Arrived

Two Months After the Slap

It had been two months since the confrontation at Wankhede.

Aashna hadn’t spoken to anyone about it.

Not to her friends. Not to her parents. Not even to herself.

What had happened in that stadium felt like both a storm and a release — like she'd finally screamed the pain her heart had carried for a year.

But the silence that followed… was different.

It wasn’t hollow anymore.

It was focused.

She returned to Kolkata the next day and didn’t shed a single tear. She deactivated her Instagram. She stopped reading the tabloids. She locked away the bracelet and hoodie for good.

And she opened a fresh notebook.

On the first page, in bold block letters, she wrote:

"Indian Air Force Academy Entrance - Target: Crack it."

And she did.

By December, the selection letter came.

When her name appeared on the final list, her mother had gasped and her father had dropped his tea.

“You did it?” her mom had whispered, voice trembling.

Aashna just nodded.

“I’m joining training at  airforce academy Dundigal next month.”

From fashion shoots and influencer brunches to obstacle courses and pre-dawn drills, the transformation was swift and brutal.

But she endured every second.

Not because she loved the grind.

But because it reminded her of Rihi.

Three Months Later – Dundigal Training Academy

Aashna turned 20 in February.

No celebrations. Just a small quiet moment in the barracks. She looked at the moon from the courtyard and whispered, “Didi, main 20 ki ho gayi. Tum kahaan ho?”
(Didi, I turned 20. Where are you?)

March followed quietly.

Rihi’s 24th birthday.

Aashna didn’t tell anyone. She just wrote her name on a tiny corner of a notebook, drew a star next to it, and kept it under her pillow.

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1 Months Later – Home for the First Time

April 2nd, 2026

The sky over Kolkata was moody, the kind that promised a summer thunderstorm.

Inside the Gupta household, however, something entirely different was stirring.

Aashna had come home after four long months of intense military training. Her frame was leaner. Her posture straighter. Her voice sharper.

Her hair was now cut into a neat military bob.

She carried herself like a soldier — because she was one now.

Her mother cried the moment she saw her step through the door in her Indian Air Force cadet uniform.

Her father hugged her tightly, pride shimmering in his usually stoic eyes.

But the celebrations were still heavy with an ache. Rihi’s absence loomed too large.