Frequencies of Us - Part 1
- Aaditya Mehta
- Jun 8, 2025
- 2 min read
Aarav didn’t sleep much anymore. Not since Meera died.
It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a mystery. It was a clinical fact. Brain aneurysm. Instant. No goodbyes.
But Aarav wasn’t the kind of man who accepted facts without testing them.
A year ago, they were planning their thesis presentation on quantum tunneling. Now he spent every waking hour challenging the limits of physics that they once treated as thought experiments.
Alternate realities. Frequency phase shifts. The belief that our universe was just one of many vibrating at distinct frequencies. What used to be late-night banter had become Aarav’s obsession.
His apartment looked nothing like a home. It was a lab fueled by grief. Wires crawled across the floor. Oscillators blinked erratically. A hacked CERN data stream ran in an infinite loop. His calculations were precise. His determination was absolute.
He was not trying to bring Meera back.
He was trying to find the version of her that never died.
At 11:07 PM, something shifted.
His monitor flickered. A ripple moved through the wave pattern on-screen. Not noise. Not static. A structured disruption in the energy signature. Measured. Deliberate.
He stared.
Then the signal changed.
A voice bled through the interference.
Soft. Familiar.
“Aarav…”
His breath caught in his throat. It couldn't be real.
But the signal was clean. Not a memory. Not a recording.
A live transmission.
Seconds later came the second message.
“Platform 3. 11:11 PM.”
The numbers stopped him.
It wasn’t random.
Platform 3 was where he had met Meera for the first time during a college trip. She was sipping coffee. He was lost in a physics book. She had laughed, saying he looked like he was decoding the universe. That platform had become their place.
And 11:11, they always texted each other at 11:11, believing it was a gateway moment, a wish in motion, a cosmic alignment. Meera used to say that if other worlds exist, 11:11 is when their frequencies almost touch.
He never thought she meant it literally.
Aarav didn’t hesitate.
Not because he believed.
But because for the first time since the day Meera died
The probability of her being alive was no longer zero.
To be Continued...
Nicely penned