Rivalry on the Track

Aunt Gori (watching them with a knowing smile):

“What is he doing now, dear?”

Jiya: “He is also a student in my university. By the way, Aunt… can you tell me more about the early days of my parents?”

Aunt Gori: “Yes, my dear. As far as I remember… it was a rainy day. They came to my door with just a few belongings—carrying you in their arms. You were crying so hard whenever thunder struck. They looked utterly exhausted. Your father said, ‘Madam, we only seek shelter for one night. We’ll leave as soon as sunlight appears.’ I still recall… your mother clutched your father’s hand so tightly, she seemed like she would collapse at any moment.”

Jiya (hesitant): “Were they… escaping from their home? What exactly happened?”

Aunt Gori (voice trembling): “They never told me the details, my dear. But out of pure motherly instinct, I welcomed them in. When I was showing them the room, your mother fainted. Your father rushed to her, carried her inside, and tended to her with such urgency… it was heartbreaking. She finally regained consciousness the next afternoon. After that, I couldn’t ask them to leave. I let them stay. And soon, I grew fond of them… especially you, my little one.”

Tears welled in Jiya’s eyes until they streamed down her cheeks.

Jiya (crying softly): “And look at me now… I’m doubting my own parents. I feel so ashamed…”

She broke down, sobbing into Aunt Gori’s arms. The elderly woman held her tightly, rocking her gently to calm her down.

[Meanwhile – University Girls’ Dormitory]

The common room buzzed with hushed gossip. Most conversations circled around Fa.

Jane (concerned): “What happened to Fa? She’s been so quiet these past few weeks. No laughter, no teasing… nothing.”

Riya (calmly): “She just wants to be alone for a while. Let her be.”

Jane (frowning): “But this isn’t the Fa we know…”

Riya (sharply, then softening): “And how much do you really know about her? Do you know what she carries? Do you know why she is like that?”

Jane (lowering her eyes): “…No.”

Riya: “I’m not blaming you. But sometimes… people need silence more than company. Let her feel what she needs to, for now.”

Jane (hesitant): “At least tell me… why is she like this?”

Riya (after a pause, sighing): “…Hmm.”

[Flashback – Two Years Ago]

A loud sound echoed through the speakers…

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Anchor 1: “Wow, what a wonderful morning.”

Anchor 2: “A sunny, bright, and joyful morning indeed! Look at the excitement in the crowd—it makes me wonder, why are we all gathered here this early?”

Anchor 1: “Because it’s a lovely day, and we’re here to witness an extraordinary competition.”

Anchor 1 & 2 (together): “So, we welcome you all to AEIRA University’s evergreen ‘Wheel On Wheel Mathew Competition’!”

Anchor 2: “We AEIRA students always hold this in May. It’s more than just a race—it’s tradition. Our first director, Mrs. Bella Mathew, was not only an international cycling champion, but also a woman of passion and determination. In her honor, we keep this legacy alive every year. And now, without further delay…”

Anchor 1: “We welcome our judges and our incredible participants. But first, here are the rules—”

* Both males and females are allowed.

* Any violence means instant disqualification.

* Every participant must collect as many flags as possible.

* The time limit is 3 hours.

* The first to complete the race will be rewarded.

* The one who collects the most flags will also be rewarded.

Anchor 2: “So let’s see who will rise today… and more importantly, who will dethrone our two-time champion. Any guesses?”

Anchor 1: “Of course—the one and only, Farinda Shah!”

The cyclists lined up. Jerseys of every shade flapped in the cool breeze. The crowd roared, waving flags, water bottles, and homemade posters.

Whistle blows.

The riders shot forward like arrows, chains whirring, gears clicking.

Anchor 1: “And they’re off!”

Green jersey surged ahead, gliding like the wind.

Anchor 2: “Ohh—but look! Peach jersey is closing in—WOOSH! He overtakes Green in style!”

Back and forth they went, trading leads, their wheels almost brushing.

Anchor 1: “Seems like this isn’t just a competition—it’s a personal duel between Peach and Green jersey!”

Peach leaned in with a smirk, brushing past. Green narrowed her ruby eyes, pushing harder. But in a sudden twist, Peach clipped too close, sending Green tumbling into the bushes. The crowd gasped.

Peach braked hard, skidding to a stop. Removing his goggles and helmet, he revealed a tall, muscular man with a neatly trimmed beard and piercing gray-black eyes. He walked towards her, extending his hand.

Anchor 2: “Well, well… who’s this mysterious knight in peach armor?”

Green refused his hand, standing up on her own. Her long messy hair framed sharp, striking features. Her ruby eyes burned as she snapped:

Green: “I don’t need your help.”

Peach (calmly, with a hint of teasing): “I’m still offering it.”

Green (icy tone): “Nice to meet you—but let’s not forget, you’re the one who pushed me.”

Peach (raising a brow): “That wasn’t a push. It was an accident.”

Green (sarcastic): “In competitions, accidents don’t exist. Only excuses.” She grabbed her bike.

Peach chuckled softly.

Peach: “Then allow me to fix my mistake.”

Before she could protest, he crouched, skillfully fixing her chain. His hands moved fast, confident.

Anchor 1: “Look at that—our Peach jersey is part racer, part mechanic!”

Anchor 2 (playfully): “Or maybe part charmer?”

Green crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently.

Green: “Done yet?”

Peach (grinning): “Fixed. Now… shall we pick up where we left off?”

She mounted her bike, still annoyed, but her lips almost curved into a smile.

Green: “Fine. But don’t think I’ve forgiven you.”

Peach (smirking): “Didn’t expect forgiveness. Just a fair race.”

Anchor 1: “Last fifteen minutes, folks!”

Flags dwindled—1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32—snatched by colorful riders.

Anchor 2: “Ten cyclists are entering the stadium! It all comes down to this!”

Anchor 1: “Three final laps, ten minutes left.”

Anchor 2: “And look—it’s neck and neck between Peach and Green jersey!”

The crowd roared louder. Peach pedaled beside Green, throwing her a mischievous wink.

She rolled her eyes but pushed harder.

Anchor 1: “Three!”

Anchor 2: “Two!”

Anchor 1: "One!"