Story 2 – The Bench Near the Banyan Tree
The bench had been there longer than most people remembered.
It stood under a wide banyan tree near the edge of the park. The paint had faded, and one leg was slightly shorter than the others, but the bench never moved. People came and went. The bench stayed.
Every evening, just as the sky began to dim, two boys arrived at the park from opposite directions.
Kabir came first. He always did. He sat on the left side of the bench and waited, swinging his legs slowly. He never checked the time. He trusted it.
A few minutes later, Aarush appeared, walking faster than he needed to. When he saw Kabir, he smiled without thinking and sat down beside him.
They didn’t talk right away.
They watched the park change. Children left with their parents. Dogs stopped running and lay down near their owners. A man closed his fruit cart and wiped his hands on a cloth.
The banyan leaves moved gently above them.
After a while, Aarush spoke. “I broke my pencil today,” he said.
Kabir nodded. “Did you tell the teacher?”
Aarush shook his head. “I was scared.”
They sat quietly again.
Then Kabir reached into his bag and took out a pencil. It was shorter than usual, sharpened many times.
“You can take this,” he said. “I like small pencils. They fit better in my hand.”
Aarush looked at him. “Are you sure?”
Kabir shrugged. “Yes.”
That was all.
The sky grew darker. One streetlight came on. Then another.
Aarush held the pencil carefully, as if it were something important.
“My mother says telling the truth makes the day lighter,” he said.
Kabir nodded. “My grandfather says helping someone makes the night softer.”
They smiled at that.
When it was time to go, they stood up together. Aarush waited while Kabir tied his shoelace properly. Kabir waited while Aarush adjusted his bag.
They walked part of the way side by side. At the corner, they stopped.
“Tomorrow?” Kabir asked.
“Tomorrow,” Aarush replied.
They went home in different directions.
Behind them, the bench stayed under the banyan tree. The leaves kept moving softly. The night accepted everything that had happened—honesty, kindness, friendship—without making a sound.
And somewhere inside two quiet homes, two boys slept a little easier, carrying the day gently into rest.
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