He remembered that the only photo he had of her was the one on the memorial page—a static, frozen image. But the feeling of her—the weight of her silence, the warmth of her potential—that was unrecorded. That was inside him. He realized that by capturing the moment, he was stepping out of it. He was creating a subject (himself) and an object (the sunset), severing the connection. He was engaging in Duality. Roots do not speak, Shukla Master had said. And roots definitely do not take selfies. Aarav lowered his phone. He slid it into his pocket. He stood there, just a man breathing in the damp air. He watched a flamingo take flight, its wings cutting the water. He didn't record it. He let the image burn into his retina, raw and unedited. It felt dangerous. It felt like a secret. For the first time in years, he wasn't a content creator. He was a witness.