THE LAST REQUEST

​The ambient red light outside the studio door glowed, signaling that the broadcast was live. Inside, seated behind the heavy acoustic microphone, Rahul adjusted his headphones.

​“Good evening, my dear listeners. You are tuned to Popular FM, and I am your host, RJ Rahul Shrestha. You’re listening to Love Songs, brought to you by our sponsors, Wai Wai and Coca-Cola. As always, we take your requests and dedications, but tonight, we are opening the floor to our new listeners. Before we dive into tonight’s letters, let’s sink into a classic—’Mein Ishq Uska’ from Vaada. I’ll be back right after this.”

​Miles away in her quiet room, Soniya sat near her radio desk, her eyes fixed on the softly glowing digital dial. Popular FM was a staple of her evenings, but truth be told, it wasn't just the music that drew her in; it was the soothing, velvety warmth of Rahul’s voice. Over the months, she had mailed dozens of dedications, hoping against hope that one day he might read her words on air. Up until tonight, those letters had drifted into silence.

​The song faded out, and the familiar chime of the radio station played.

​“Welcome back after that beautiful track,” Rahul’s voice poured through the speakers. “I hope you enjoyed it. Now, let’s move to an email sent in earlier today. It comes from…”

​Soniya held her breath. Her hands clutched the edge of her table, her heart hammering against her ribs.

​“…Soniya Sharma from Chabhill.”

​A gasp escaped her lips. She brought her hands to her mouth, tears of delight welling in her eyes.

​“She writes,” Rahul read smoothly, “‘Dear Brother, I listen to your show regularly, and I am a huge fan. There is a quiet magic in your voice—it brings me back to this station night after night. Today, I’d like to request "La Isla Bonita" by Madonna, and I want to dedicate this song to you, and only you.’”

​In the studio, Rahul smiled softly into the microphone. “Thank you, Soniya, for listening and for such generous words. Keep tuning in. This one goes out to you.”

​As the upbeat guitar rhythm of Madonna filled her room, Soniya turned up the volume knob. Overcome with joy, she began to dance in the center of her room, her mind trailing off into fantasies. In her imagination, the disembodied voice took shape—tall, gentle, and striking. Somewhere along the line, her admiration had blossomed into something deeper. She had fallen in love with a man she had never met.

​March 8, 2012

​She stood outside the studio gates of Popular FM, clutching her cardigan tightly against the cool Kathmandu breeze. It was just past 8:00 PM when the main glass doors opened.

​A tall man walked out, tossing his leather jacket over one shoulder. He had a strong jawline, soft eyes, and dimples that deepened as he spoke briefly with the security guard. He was even more handsome than she had pictured.

​The receptionist pointed toward Soniya, and Rahul nodded, walking over with an easy stride.

​“Hi there,” he said.

​Hearing that voice in person sent a shiver through her. She froze, rendered speechless by his presence.

​“Hello?” Rahul smiled, tilting his head. “Where did you lose yourself?”

​“Oh—I’m so sorry,” Soniya stammered, her cheeks burning hot. She nervously adjusted her hair behind her ear, attempting to compose herself. “Hi. I’m Soniya Sharma.”

​“Hi, Soniya. I’m Rahul Shrestha.”

​“I know,” she whispered softly.

​A beat of awkward silence stretched between them. Both looked away, laughing softly under their breath at the unspoken tension before Rahul broke the silence.

​“So, the receptionist mentioned you were waiting to see me. May I ask why?”

​“I’m a huge fan… and, well…” Her voice trailed off, swallowed by nervousness.

​Rahul gave her an encouraging grin. “And? Go on, don’t be shy.”

​“Could I… get your autograph?” she blurted out, holding up a small notebook.

​“Of course,” he replied gently, taking her pen. As he scribbled a personal note on the blank page, Soniya quietly asked if she could visit the station again sometime. Rahul looked up, smiled, and nodded. “Whenever I’m on shift.”

​April 10, 2012

​A month later, Soniya was sitting in the lounge area near the broadcast studio, chatting casually with Rahul after his show had wrapped. They had grown comfortable with each other, sharing light banters about music and life.

​Their conversation was interrupted when two men walked into the station lobby, laughing loudly. Rahul’s eyes lit up as he recognized his old acquaintances. Sensing that he had guests, Soniya politely gathered her belongings.

​“I should head home,” she said softly. Before stepping out, she scribbled her phone number on a small sticky note on his desk. “In case you ever want to call.”

​Rahul nodded warmly. “Safe journey home, Soniya.”

​As she walked out into the evening air, Rahul’s acquaintances, Rohit and his companion, slouched into the office chairs. Rohit glanced toward the glass door, watching Soniya leave.

​“Who was the stunner?” Rohit asked with a smirk.

​“Just a listener,” Rahul replied, tidying up his audio logs. “A very sweet fan.”

​“Just a fan, huh? Looked like a bit more than that,” Rohit teased.

​Rahul shook his head with a light laugh. “Don't start. It’s good to see you guys after so long, though. What brings you by?”

​“Just passing through,” Rohit replied casually.

​While Rahul turned his back to file away tape recordings, Rohit leaned over the desk. His eyes caught the yellow sticky note left by Soniya. Without a second thought, he slipped the paper into his coat pocket. Rahul, distracted by his work, noticed nothing.

​Two Days Later

​“Maine Pareshaan…”

​The phone on Soniya’s bed buzzed continuously. She glanced at the screen: Unknown Number. She let it ring out. But when the same number called four times in a row, she finally swiped the screen to answer.

​“Hello?”

​“Hello. Is this Soniya Sharma?” a man's voice asked on the other line.

​“Yes. Who is calling?”

​“I’m calling from Popular FM,” the voice lied smoothly. “Rahul Shrestha asked us to reach out to you. He wants to meet you tonight.”

​Soniya’s heart fluttered, though a hint of doubt crossed her mind. “Why didn't he call me himself?”

​“He’s locked in a pre-recording session for the weekend show and asked us to handle his schedule. He said it was important.”

​Excitement quickly pushed her lingering doubts aside. “Oh! What time should I come?”

​“Around 6:00 PM today. Come to the rear office block near the station.”

​Soniya spent the afternoon carefully selecting her outfit, heart humming with anticipation. She arrived at the premises well before 6:00 PM. But as the clock ticked past 6:30, then 7:00, the hallway remained dark and quiet. There was no sign of Rahul.

​Feeling an uneasy dread settle in her chest, she turned to leave. As she reached the stairwell, the door creaked open, and two men stepped into her path—Rohit and his friend.

​They were smiling, but their eyes held a predatory coldness.

​“Looking for Rahul?” Rohit asked, stepping closer.

​Soniya backed away, her breathing turning shallow. “Where is he?”

​“Rahul didn’t call you, Soniya,” Rohit sneered, taking another step forward. “Today is his day off. It was us.”

​A cold sweat broke out across her skin. Terror seized her, choking the air from her lungs. She turned to sprint down the back corridor, but two more men stepped out from the shadows at the end of the hall, blocking the emergency exit.

​Before she could scream, a heavy hand slammed over her mouth. She fought, kicked, and clawed, but they forced her into a dark, locked storage room at the back of the building. Her desperate cries for help echoed uselessly against soundproofed storage walls. In that dark room, her life was shattered.

​August 2012

​Three months had passed.

​It was 9:45 PM. Rahul sat in his apartment, staring blankly at his laptop screen. Suddenly, his phone vibrated against the desk. He glanced at the caller ID—an unlisted number. It was the same number that had been calling him intermittently at this exact time for the past week. Every time he picked up, there was only static before the call disconnected.

​Tonight, he answered immediately.

​“Hello? Who is this?”

​A soft, trembling voice spoke through the line. “You know who I am.”

​Rahul sat up straight. “Please, just tell me who you are. Why have you been calling me every night?”

​“If you want to know,” the voice whispered, “come up to your building rooftop. Now.”

​The line went dead.

​Rahul rushed up the concrete stairs, pushing open the heavy metal door to the roof. Standing near the edge, her coat billowing in the night breeze, was a figure bathed in the pale moonlight.

​He walked up cautiously. “I’m here. Please, who are you?”

​The woman turned around.

​Rahul froze, his eyes widening in shock. “Soniya?”

​Her face was thin, her cheeks pale, and the bright spark that once lit up her eyes was entirely gone.

​“Yes,” she said quietly. “It’s me.”

​“Where have you been? Why did you disappear like that?”

​In a quiet, emotionless tone, Soniya recounted the horror of that April evening—the trick, the storage room, and the men who claimed to be his friends.

​As the truth washed over him, Rahul felt as though the ground was giving way beneath his feet. Blood rushed to his ears. He sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands, completely shattered.

​“Soniya… I didn’t know,” he sobbed, his voice breaking. “They were never my real friends—just acquaintances I barely knew! My God… because I was careless with your number, because I left it on my desk… this happened to you. It’s my fault.”

​He looked up at her, tears streaming down his face, and reached out to hold her hands. “Soniya, let me make this right. Please. Marry me. Let me spend my life taking care of you.”

​Soniya gently pulled her hands away.

​“No, Rahul,” she said softly, shaking her head. “We can’t.”

​“Why?” he begged. “Why not?”

​“After it happened,” Soniya whispered, her voice cracking for the first time, “I was lost in darkness for weeks. When I finally gathered the courage to find you, I came to your house. But when I reached your door, your neighbors told me you were engaged to your long-time girlfriend.”

​Rahul fell silent, the weight of her words crushing him.

​“I left Kathmandu for Pokhara after that,” she continued, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. “I thought the lake air and the distance would help me forget, but you can’t run away from a broken body and a broken mind. I felt guilty for leaving without telling you the truth. My heart demanded that I look at you one last time.”

​She stepped back toward the rooftop doorway.

​“I loved you, Rahul. I loved you just by listening to your voice on the radio, and despite everything, a part of me still does. But I will not let you ruin your life out of guilt. Marrying me out of pity will only destroy your engagement, your reputation, and your future. I won't let my tragedy ruin your life too.”

​“Soniya, please!” he cried out, stretching his hand toward her.

​“Goodbye, Rahul.”

​She turned and vanished down the dark stairwell, leaving him alone under the empty night sky. Rahul fell forward onto the cold concrete, weeping uncontrollably in the quiet dark—haunted by the tragic echo of his own voice, and a small mistake that had stolen everything from the girl who used to listen.