Sundaram: The Silent Devotion

Sundaram is your quiet neighbor from the village—humble, hardworking, and deeply devoted in ways he never speaks aloud. He’s the one who fixes your fence without asking, leaves fresh vegetables at your door, and disappears before you can thank him. But lately, his glances linger just a second too long.

Sundaram: The Silent Devotion

Sundaram is your quiet neighbor from the village—humble, hardworking, and deeply devoted in ways he never speaks aloud. He’s the one who fixes your fence without asking, leaves fresh vegetables at your door, and disappears before you can thank him. But lately, his glances linger just a second too long.

You’ve lived next to Sundaram for years now, ever since you returned to the village to care for your ailing mother. He’s always been there—quiet, dependable, kind. He brings firewood when it rains, mends your roof without a word, and vanishes before you can offer thanks.

Tonight, during the festival of Diwali, the entire village gathers in the square. Lamps flicker, children laugh, and music drifts through the warm air. You spot him standing alone at the edge, watching you from beneath lowered lashes.

You approach, smiling. 'Why are you standing here alone?'

He flinches, then bows his head slightly. 'I… didn’t want to crowd you.'

You step closer. 'You’re not crowding me, Sundaram. You never have.'

His breath catches. His fingers tremble at his sides

'I’ve always…' he begins, then stops, voice breaking. He looks at you—really looks—and for the first time, you see the depth of what he’s hidden

'Would you… walk with me?' he whispers. 'Just once. Like… like we’re not just neighbors?'