Conflicted Heart

Chapter 01 : A Day in the Life of Vijay Swaminathan

Vijay's POV

Good morning! The sun filters through the curtains, and I slowly push myself up from the bed, only to reach for my mobile. Not to check personal or official messages, but to indulge in my morning ritual of scrolling through YouTube and Instagram, catching up on the latest videos and updates.

It's already 7:30 AM—time to get moving. I grab my towel and head straight into the bathroom, where my routine unfolds. The sound of running water greets me as I open the tap. I wash my toothbrush, apply a pea-sized amount of toothpaste—maybe a bit more—and begin brushing. Up and down, I navigate the runways in my mouth, finishing with a gargle and spit. One last brush, and I'm done.

Next, it’s time for a shower. Nothing to elaborate here: just me, the water, and a bar of soap. Fifteen minutes later, I'm refreshed and ready to tackle the day.

I walk out of the bathroom and open my wardrobe, searching for clothes that don’t need ironing. While dressing, let me introduce myself. I'm Vijay Swaminathan, a 25-year-old software engineer. Just an average middle-class guy, navigating life one day at a time.

As I finish dressing and step out, there is Mrs. Swaminathan—my Amma—waiting for me with a warm breakfast and a cup of plain tea. I sit down, place my phone on the stand, and start scrolling through random videos while enjoying my meal. Once done, I bid my mother goodbye and head off to work.

The drive to the office is uneventful, and upon arrival, I clock in with my fingerprint and make my way to my cabin, greeting a few colleagues along the way. After setting up my workspace, I dive into the day’s tasks. This is my new company, which I joined a few months ago. Initially, it was tough—I even had days when I wanted to quit. But now, I’ve found my rhythm. As someone once said, "Once you've got nothing to lose, you become unstoppable." This doesn’t mean I’m ready to get fired, but I’ve learned to prioritize my own space over others’ expectations.

The morning flies by, and soon it’s lunchtime. I’ve grown accustomed to eating alone in this corporate world, finding a certain peace in it. Today, though, a few colleagues join me. We chat and laugh, but I no longer feel uneasy dining solo. It’s a small thing, but an important one I’ve learned over time.

The afternoon is filled with meetings and tasks, and finally, at 5 PM sharp, I sign off and leave the office. Back home, I unwind and freshen up. Dinner is early, at 7 PM, and I find myself scrolling through my phone again, losing track of time until it’s already 11 PM.

Time to hit the bed. And that’s a day in my life—simple, routine, but mine.

Im sorry to disappoint you reason being i like to read about kratika sengar ff

No issues. Thanks for dropping in.

I'll continue the other one very soon.

Tnx

Vijay actually does want someone to love and to be loved. He is just afraid of rejection.

He has a simple, quiet life. He is ready to something to happen and bring something interesting along.

May be he his.

Thank you for your support

Originally posted by: coderlady

He has a simple, quiet life. He is ready to something to happen and bring something interesting along.

Chapter 02: A Day in Vijay Swaminathan's Home

Vijay's POV

Let me introduce you to my family. My father is Mr. Swaminathan, an accountant. He is the man behind our happiness, working tirelessly day and night to provide for us. His dedication often comes at the cost of his own well-being, and I've noticed the subtle signs of his stress—the deep lines on his forehead, the way he rubs his temples when he thinks no one is watching. His sacrifices are a double-edged sword, filling me with both admiration and a nagging sense of guilt for the burden he bears.

My mother, Mrs. Swaminathan, is the heart and soul of our home. A homemaker who cares for everyone but herself, she dedicates her days and nights to us. I've seen her exhaustion in the way she moves, the slight tremor in her hands when she finally sits down after a long day. She never complains, but the weight of her unspoken worries is evident in her eyes. Her selflessness is both a blessing and a silent cry for help, one that we often overlook in our own busy lives.

I'm the eldest in the family, and you already know a bit about me. I have two brothers and a sister. One brother is in college, while the other two are still in school. We belong to a middle-class family, and life can be hectic—no, scratch that—life is hectic most of the time. But we do enjoy it. Despite our efforts to save money, we often end up spending it all. I oscillate between being stingy and a spendthrift, sometimes adding to the family's financial burdens.

As the first child, I grew up under constant guidance and high expectations. My parents weren't always strict, but their constant care and molding shaped my personality in ways I didn't always understand. I always had choices, but I often gravitated toward certain decisions. Behind each choice, there were the lessons and guidelines my parents instilled in me. Comparison was a constant companion. In their quest to make me the best, they may have unintentionally planted seeds of confusion and self-doubt within me. I don't blame them; it was their way of helping me succeed. But did it make me forget myself? Did it make me chase success relentlessly?

My siblings, on the other hand, are independent and interdependent in their own ways. It took me years to stop myself from trying to parent them. None of them ever asked for it, but I took it upon myself. Maybe that's just how firstborns are wired. But with time and age, you come to understand that everyone is an individual, and they need their own space to grow and learn.

My younger brother, who is in college, often rushes through breakfast, his mind occupied with assignments and deadlines. His constant anxiety is palpable—he's always in a hurry, always worrying about the future. The pressure to excel, both academically and socially, weighs heavily on him, and I can see the toll it's taking on his mental health.

The other two, still in school, chatter excitedly about their day ahead. My sister, with her bright eyes and infectious enthusiasm, brings a burst of energy to our otherwise mundane mornings. Yet, beneath her cheerful exterior, I've noticed moments of insecurity and doubt. She seeks approval and validation in subtle ways, a reflection of the high standards she sets for herself, perhaps influenced by the environment of achievement that surrounds us.

Our home is a blend of chaos and love. Each day starts with my father leaving for work early in the morning, his presence replaced by the hum of my mother's activities around the house. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of the pressure cooker create a symphony of a typical morning. My siblings and I prepare for our day, each lost in our thoughts and routines but bound by an unspoken bond.

I watch them, a mixture of pride and concern swelling within me. Their journeys are just beginning, and I find myself oscillating between wanting to protect them and allowing them to face the world on their own. It's a delicate balance, one that I'm still learning to navigate. I've seen the struggles my siblings face—their attempts to carve out their own identities while living up to the expectations set by our family and society. It reminds me of my own battles, the ones that shaped who I am today.

As the day progresses, my mother's tireless efforts keep the household running smoothly. She manages everything with a grace that often goes unnoticed but never unappreciated. My father returns home in the evening, his face weary but his spirit undeterred. We gather for dinner, a time to share our day’s stories and reconnect.

In these moments, I see the strength of my family. Despite the challenges and the occasional disagreements, we stand together. Our middle-class life may be filled with struggles, but it is also rich with love, support, and resilience.

As the eldest, I carry the weight of expectations, but I also cherish the unique perspective it gives me. I see the sacrifices my parents make, the dreams my siblings nurture, and the silent hopes that bind us all. It is a day in Vijay Swaminathan's home—ordinary yet extraordinary in its own way.