When he was six, Aarav lost his favorite teddy bear — a scruffy, one-eyed thing named Captain Bruno — at the city train station.
He cried the whole ride home, promising he’d come back for it one day.
He cried the whole ride home, promising he’d come back for it one day.
Years rolled by. Childhood blurred into college, work, bills, and meetings.
The station remained the same — loud, busy, a blur of footsteps and goodbyes.
The station remained the same — loud, busy, a blur of footsteps and goodbyes.
One rainy evening, while waiting for a delayed train, Aarav wandered near the Lost and Found Room, more out of boredom than curiosity.
On the dusty shelf was a wooden box labeled “Box #42 – Unclaimed since 1999.”
He smiled. That was the year he lost Bruno.
The clerk let him peek inside.
At the very bottom, under faded scarves and rusted keys, was a small, threadbare teddy with one missing eye — still wearing the red ribbon his mother tied around its neck.
The clerk let him peek inside.
At the very bottom, under faded scarves and rusted keys, was a small, threadbare teddy with one missing eye — still wearing the red ribbon his mother tied around its neck.
Aarav froze.
Then laughed — softly at first, then louder, until even the clerk smiled.
Then laughed — softly at first, then louder, until even the clerk smiled.
He took Bruno home, patched him up, and placed him by his desk.
That night, as the city lights blinked outside his window, Aarav whispered,
“Guess you waited for me after all.”
That night, as the city lights blinked outside his window, Aarav whispered,
“Guess you waited for me after all.”
The teddy bear sat quietly, a tiny smile stitched across his face —
and for the first time in years, so did Aarav.
and for the first time in years, so did Aarav.