Chapter 1: The Twin Paths


In a quiet town in Tamil Nadu, nestled between fields of swaying paddy and bustling streets, lived Yaathvika and Yadhashree—twin sisters who, despite sharing the same birthday, the same house, and even the same school, were vastly different in their dreams and approach to life.

Born into a modest, middle-class family, their parents had always been practical in their expectations. They wanted their daughters to study well, secure government jobs or respected positions, and settle into stable, predictable lives. There was no room for uncertainty, no place for risky ambitions.

From childhood, both sisters shared a common dream: to become veterinarians. Their love for animals had been evident since they were little, from feeding stray dogs near their home to eagerly watching wildlife documentaries. They pictured themselves working side by side in a clinic, saving lives and fulfilling their purpose.

Yet, while they shared a dream, their personalities couldn’t have been more different.

Yadhashree was the model student—smart, focused, and disciplined. She loved structure, solving math problems, and setting clear goals for her future. Teachers adored her. Relatives praised her. She was the daughter every parent dreamed of having.

Yaathvika, on the other hand, was a dreamer. While she was not bad at academics, she lacked the same passion for textbooks that her sister had. Instead, she found joy in words, stories, and imagination. Her notebooks weren’t filled with equations but rather with characters, plots, and dialogues from stories she secretly wrote.

She never spoke about her true passion for writing.

In their family, dreams that didn’t lead to a stable income were dismissed as hobbies, not careers. Writing books wasn’t something that people from their background pursued.

So, Yaathvika kept her dream to herself, afraid of being laughed at or discouraged.

As they reached 12th grade, their goal of becoming veterinarians became the center of their world. They studied hard, waking up at dawn, revising late into the night. Their father worked tirelessly to support their education, and their mother made sure they had everything they needed to focus on their studies.

When the exam results finally arrived, both sisters passed with good marks.

But the reality hit them like a storm.

The cutoff for veterinary colleges was much higher than they had anticipated. Despite their hard work, their scores weren’t enough.

Their dream had slipped away.

For Yadhashree, it was a disappointment, but she quickly found another path. She explored different courses and discovered that chemical engineering was a stable, well-paying field. It wasn’t veterinary science, but it was still a promising career. With her marks, she secured admission into a reputed university.

For Yaathvika, however, the loss was devastating.

Not because she couldn’t be a veterinarian, but because she realized she had never truly wanted it in the first place.

Her true dream—to become a writer—had always been hidden, pushed aside for something more ‘acceptable.’ And now, she had nothing.

Her family assumed she would follow her sister’s path and choose a practical course. So she enrolled in a general degree program, feeling lost, hopeless, and trapped in a life that didn’t belong to her.

University was supposed to be a new beginning.

Instead, it felt like the end of everything she had dreamed of.


Chapter 2: The Silent Struggle

The university campus was alive with energy. Students rushed between classes, laughter echoed from the canteen, and posters for clubs and competitions decorated the notice boards. Everywhere she looked, people were busy shaping their futures. But for Yaathvika, none of it seemed to matter.

Every morning, she sat in lectures, taking notes just enough to avoid trouble, but her mind was always elsewhere. She listened to professors explain theories, but their words felt like background noise. She watched her classmates discuss assignments and career plans, yet she felt like an outsider, detached from the life she was living.

Yadhashree, on the other hand, had settled into university with ease. She had already made new friends, joined study groups, and found her rhythm in chemical engineering. There was no doubt in her mind about what she was doing—she had adapted, set new goals, and moved forward. Yaathvika envied that. She envied the certainty her sister had, the sense of purpose that drove her every day.

At home, their parents assumed she was adjusting to college life. But deep inside, she was drowning in self-doubt. She wasn’t failing—she was passing her subjects. But what did it matter when she had no interest in them?

She had always dreamed of being a writer. But that dream was something she never spoke of, not to her parents, not to her teachers, not even to Yadhashree. It was a fragile thing, something she feared would break under the weight of reality. She imagined what people would say if she told them.

“A writer? That’s not a real job.”
“How will you earn a living from that?”
“You should focus on something practical.”

She could already hear the laughter, the dismissive remarks. So she never said a word. She wrote in secret, scribbling thoughts in a small notebook, crafting stories that no one else would ever see. It was the only thing that brought her peace, yet even that felt pointless. What was the use of writing if no one would ever read it?

As the months passed, the weight of her silence grew heavier. She watched as her friends made plans for their futures, discussing internships and career paths. She felt lost, as if she were standing still while everyone else moved forward. The thought of spending the rest of her life in a profession she had no passion for terrified her.

One night, as she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, she felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. Her chest tightened, and a thought crept into her mind—one she had never allowed herself to consider before.

What if I just disappeared?

Would it even matter?

Would anyone notice?

The thought scared her, but what scared her more was how much sense it seemed to make. She felt like she had nothing—no direction, no purpose, no reason to keep going.

The next morning, she sat at the dining table, staring at her untouched breakfast. Yadhashree noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the dullness in her expression.

“You look terrible,” she said, frowning. “Didn’t sleep?”

“I just… couldn’t,” Yaathvika muttered.

Yadhashree studied her for a moment but didn’t push. Instead, she quietly placed a cup of coffee in front of her and sat beside her.

She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t offer empty words of encouragement. She just stayed.

And for the first time in weeks, Yaathvika felt like she wasn’t completely alone.



Chapter 3: A Spark of Hope

Days passed, then weeks. Yaathvika continued attending classes, completing assignments, and pretending to be fine. But inside, the emptiness lingered. She had become used to the routine—wake up, go to class, return to the hostel, pretend everything was normal. It was exhausting, but she had no other choice.

One afternoon, she walked past a crowded notice board in the university hallway. Students gathered around, discussing the various opportunities displayed on colorful posters. Something caught her eye—a small, simple flyer tucked between larger ones.

"Join Our Creative Writing Club! Limited Seats Available."

Her heart pounded.

She read the details over and over again. There was an entrance test—each applicant had to submit a short story, and only a handful would be selected.

For the first time in months, something inside her stirred.

That night, she sat at her desk, staring at a blank page on her notebook. Her hands trembled slightly as she picked up her pen. Could she really do this? Could she put her thoughts into words and send them to be judged?

She pushed away the doubt and began writing.

Hours passed unnoticed as she poured her emotions into the story. It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers. The next morning, she typed it out at the library and sent it.

Then came the waiting.

Days turned into a week. She checked her email every morning, feeling a mix of excitement and dread.

And then, one evening, the response arrived.

"Dear Applicant, we appreciate your submission, but due to limited spots, we regret to inform you that you were not selected."

She read the words once. Twice. The third time, her vision blurred.

She had failed.

Again.

Her hands clenched into fists. She had been stupid to hope. Stupid to believe she had a chance. She had always known this dream was impossible—why had she allowed herself to think otherwise?

That night, she sat in the darkness of her hostel room, hugging her knees to her chest.

She was nothing.

She was no one.

The next day, she skipped breakfast. Yadhashree, noticing her absence, found her still lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Are you sick?” she asked, sitting beside her.

Yaathvika shook her head.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Yadhashree sighed. “Come on, get up. You have classes.”

Yaathvika didn’t respond.

She expected her sister to scold her, maybe tell her to stop being lazy. But instead, Yadhashree sat there for a while, saying nothing. Eventually, she stood up and walked away.

Moments later, she returned and placed a plate of food on the table.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” she said quietly. “But at least eat.”

Yaathvika wanted to push the plate away. She wanted to scream that nothing mattered. But instead, she picked up a spoon and took a bite.

It was a small thing, but it was enough to remind her that she wasn’t entirely alone.

And maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t the end.


Chapter 4: An Unexpected Gift

Life at university continued, but Yaathvika moved through it like a ghost. She went to class, took notes, submitted assignments—just enough to get by. She didn’t care anymore.

Yadhashree noticed, of course. She wasn’t the type to ask too many questions, but she had a way of understanding things without words.

One evening, as they sat in their hostel room, Yadhashree suddenly said, “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we had a laptop?”

Yaathvika blinked at her. It was an unexpected question.

“If we had one,” Yadhashree continued, “you could type your stories properly. Maybe even send them somewhere. Would that help?”

Yaathvika let out a dry laugh. “We can’t afford a laptop.”

“I know,” Yadhashree said simply. Then she didn’t say anything more.

The conversation ended, but the thought lingered.

A few weeks later, their cousin Aarav came to visit. He was older, already working, and had always been close to them. After spending the weekend with them, he called them into the living room before leaving.

“I have something for you both,” he said, grinning.

From his bag, he pulled out two sleek, brand-new laptops.

For a moment, neither Yaathvika nor Yadhashree could speak.

“Anna, this is too much,” Yadhashree finally said, her voice uncertain. “We can’t accept this.”

“You can,” Aarav insisted. “Think of it as an investment. I know both of you will do something great one day.”

Yaathvika touched the laptop hesitantly, as if it might disappear. She had dreamed of this moment for so long, but now that it was real, she didn’t know how to react.

Aarav ruffled her hair. “Use it well, okay?”

She nodded, but deep inside, she wasn’t sure if she even deserved it.

That night, she opened the laptop and stared at the blank screen. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She should have been excited. She should have started writing immediately.

But she couldn’t.

Her heart felt heavy, weighed down by everything she had failed at. By the rejection from the writing club. By the feeling that her dreams were impossible.

She closed the laptop and turned away.

Maybe she wasn’t meant to be a writer after all.


Chapter 5: Lost in Darkness

Days turned into weeks, yet the laptop remained untouched on Yaathvika’s desk. It was a gift she had once dreamed of, something she thought would change everything. But instead, it only reminded her of her failures.

She wanted to write, she truly did, but every time she placed her fingers on the keyboard, doubt crept in.

What if I’m not good enough?
What if no one ever reads my stories?
What if I’m just wasting my time?

The fear of failing again paralyzed her. The rejection from the writing club still haunted her, a painful reminder that she wasn’t talented enough.

She spent her days going through the motions—attending lectures, submitting assignments, sitting in the canteen with Yadhashree, pretending to be okay.

But she wasn’t okay.

The stress of family expectations, the pressure of academics, and the burden of an unfulfilled dream had built up inside her for too long.

Then came the final blow—her family’s loss. A relative she had been close to passed away suddenly. It shattered whatever little strength she had left.

Her world turned into a blur of sorrow and emptiness. She stopped trying. She stopped caring. She barely spoke, even to Yadhashree.

Her twin noticed, of course.

"You haven’t written anything yet, have you?" Yadhashree asked one evening, eyeing the untouched laptop.

Yaathvika didn’t answer.

“Why aren’t you even trying?” Yadhashree pressed. "This is what you always wanted, right?"

Yaathvika let out a hollow laugh. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll never be good enough.”

The words hung between them, heavy with frustration and pain.

Yadhashree exhaled sharply. “If you keep thinking like that, you’ll never do anything. Just try. What do you have to lose?”

Yaathvika didn’t respond. She wanted to believe her sister’s words, but she was too exhausted, too lost in her own darkness.

She wasn’t ready.

Not yet.


Chapter 6: A New Beginning

A year passed. Time didn’t heal everything, but it dulled the sharp edges of Yaathvika’s pain. The grief of losing a loved one lingered, but it no longer consumed her entirely. The disappointment of her past failures still weighed on her, but they no longer defined her.

She had learned to function again, but one thing remained unchanged—the laptop remained untouched.

One afternoon, as she sat in a lecture hall, listening to a professor discuss a chemical engineering topic, a familiar emptiness crept in. The words blurred together, dissolving into meaningless noise. She had learned to nod along, to take notes, to pretend she cared.

Then, in the middle of the lecture, the professor casually said, “Take proper notes. You never know—someday, you might even publish them as a book.”

Something about those words struck Yaathvika differently.

Publish a book.

It was just an offhand comment, something the professor probably said without much thought. But to Yaathvika, it was like a spark in a long-dead fire.

That night, she sat at her desk, staring at the blank screen of her laptop. Her fingers trembled as she opened a document.

For so long, she had let fear hold her back. Fear of rejection. Fear of failure.

But what if she never tried?

Wasn’t that an even bigger failure?

Taking a deep breath, she placed her fingers on the keyboard and began typing.

At first, the words came slowly, awkwardly. But then, something changed. The fear faded, replaced by a familiar comfort—the same feeling she had as a child, scribbling stories in the back of her notebook.

For the first time in years, she felt alive.


Chapter 7: The First Step

Once Yaathvika started writing, it was as if she had opened a floodgate. Words poured out of her, forming sentences, shaping characters, breathing life into a world she had kept locked away for too long.

She wrote late into the nights, losing herself in the rhythm of the keyboard. The doubts were still there, lingering in the back of her mind, whispering that she would fail again. But this time, she ignored them.

Yadhashree noticed the change almost immediately.

“You’ve been staring at that screen all day,” she said one evening. “Finally writing something?”

Yaathvika hesitated, then nodded. “I’m trying.”

Yadhashree smirked. “About time.”

Despite the teasing, Yaathvika saw the pride in her sister’s eyes. It gave her the courage to keep going.

Weeks passed, and her story took shape. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but it was hers. A piece of her heart and soul poured onto the pages.

She researched how to publish a book, realizing it wasn’t as simple as just writing. There were editing processes, formatting, cover designs. She had no idea where to begin.

She considered giving up.

But then she remembered the professor’s words.

"You never know—someday, you might even publish them as a book."

The thought pushed her forward.

Using what little savings she had, she hired an editor online. She learned how to format her book. She designed a simple cover.

Finally, after months of work, she self-published her first book.

She stared at the screen, her heart pounding as she clicked the final button.

It was real now.

Her dream was real.

But no one bought it.

Days passed, then weeks. The book sat unnoticed in the vast sea of published works. She tried promoting it, but with no name, no reputation, no marketing budget, it was as if she didn’t exist.

The initial excitement faded, replaced by disappointment.

Was this another failure?

Had she really come this far, only to be ignored?

She thought about quitting again. Maybe her dream was always meant to be impossible.

But then, something unexpected happened.


Chapter 8: The Turning Point

Just as despair began to creep in, something unexpected happened.

One afternoon, Yaathvika received a message from a stranger.

"I just finished your book. It was beautiful. Your words touched me deeply. Thank you for writing this."

Her heart pounded as she reread the message. Someone had read her book. Someone she didn’t know. And they had liked it.

It was just one reader, but it meant everything.

That single message reignited her determination. She began promoting her book in small ways—sharing excerpts on social media, joining writing communities, engaging with readers. It was slow, frustrating, and often discouraging, but she kept going.

And then, one day, Yadhashree did something completely unexpected.

“I wrote something,” Yadhashree said casually, handing her a piece of paper.

Yaathvika frowned, taking it. As she read the words, her breath caught.

It was a foreword—for her book.

“You wrote this for me?” Yaathvika asked, stunned.

“Well, someone had to,” Yadhashree said with a smirk. “You needed something to make your next book special.”

Tears welled up in Yaathvika’s eyes. For so long, she had felt alone in this journey, as if no one truly believed in her dream. But here was her sister, the one person who had always been by her side, proving once again that she understood.

Yadhashree’s foreword became the opening words of Yaathvika’s next book.

And this time, people noticed.

Slowly, her readership grew. More messages came in, more people resonated with her words. It was still far from success, but it was something.

And something was all she needed to keep going.


Chapter-9: Turning Dreams Into Reality

Years passed, and Yaathvika’s journey from a struggling dreamer to a celebrated writer became an inspiration to many. What once seemed impossible had become her reality.

At the age of thirty, she stood on a grand stage, addressing an audience of aspiring writers, students, and readers who had found solace in her words.

Taking a deep breath, she smiled and began her speech.

“I once believed that dreams were meant for others—not for someone like me. I thought success was something out of reach, something that only belonged to those with privilege, talent, or luck. But I was wrong.

Dreams aren’t impossible. They are just waiting for the right moment, the right courage, and the right persistence to become real.

I failed many times. I doubted myself. I wanted to give up. But one lesson changed everything—believing in myself, even when no one else did.

And even when I felt alone, I wasn’t. My sister stood beside me, my family slowly came to understand, and one by one, my readers found me.

If you have a dream, don’t let fear stop you. Start small. Fail. Learn. Try again. Keep going until the world has no choice but to notice you.

Because one day, you’ll look back and realize that the impossible dream you once chased is now the life you’re living.”

The audience erupted in applause, but all Yaathvika saw was Yadhashree in the front row, smiling.

Their journey had never been easy, but in the end, they had made it—together.