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Stanley Quencher Insulated Tumbler 0.89 L
$35As the train slowed to a halt, Meera’s heart raced faster than it ever had. Three years. Three whole years since she’d last seen the narrow lanes of her hometown, the old banyan tree near the railway station, and the two smiling faces she missed every day—her parents.
The journey had been long, not just in miles, but in memories. Life had taken her to another country for studies—new streets, new faces, and a new version of herself. But somewhere between lectures and late-night phone calls, she had folded countless emotions into a suitcase of silence. And now, with trembling hands and teary eyes, she stepped onto the platform.
She wasn’t sure if her parents would recognize her instantly. She had changed—grown stronger, wiser, and maybe a little tired. But in the crowd, she spotted them. Her father’s salt-and-pepper hair, her mother’s dupatta fluttering in the breeze. And their eyes—still the same, still searching.
Meera ran, leaving behind the weight of years. Her mother’s arms opened wide, and her father choked back tears.
No words were needed. In that one embrace, time melted, hearts healed, and Meera was home again.
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