Authors pov :

“Har Har Mahadev!”

The sacred chant echoed through the stone walls of the ancient temple, reverberating with a divine energy as the temple priests and devotees raised their voices in unison. The morning in Banaras had awakened with the devotional rhythm of conches, bells, and the resonant call to Mahadev. The scent of incense mingled with the crisp air, and the temple courtyard shimmered with the first golden rays of the sun.

Chahat stepped onto the temple premises, reverently removing her chappals at the entrance. She moved with purpose and devotion, her steps quick as she ascended the wide, worn stairs that led to the sanctum. With each step she took, the soft tinkling of the anklets around her feet echoed gently, like a subtle prayer of its own.

She was dressed in a graceful pink kurti that fluttered lightly with her movements, the delicate organza dupatta trailing behind her like a whisper. Her presence added a soft color to the otherwise earthy hues of the temple surroundings. As she reached the top, she extended her arm to ring the brass bell hanging at the doorway. The resonant clang filled the air, marking her arrival in the divine presence.

With a serene smile on her face, Chahat stood still, facing the idol of Shiv and Parvati. She closed her eyes in reverence, hands folded in namaste, her heart whispering prayers that only the divine could hear.

Chahat stood still before the idol of Shiv and Parvati, her hands folded gently in front of her chest, fingers slightly trembling—not out of fear, but from the intensity of emotion she held inside. The temple bells continued to chime softly in the background, and the soft chants of other devotees faded into a distant hum as she immersed herself in her own sacred moment.

“Hey Mahadev, aap toh jante hi hai hamare dil mein kya chal raha hai lekin hum yeh bhi jante hai ki aap hamare kabhi bura nahi chahege,”

she whispered, her voice low and filled with a raw vulnerability. Her eyes remained shut tightly, as if doing so would help her reach him better, as if in that darkness she could see Mahadev more clearly than with open eyes. There was a quiet surrender in her words—a truth born from trust, not desperation.

["Hey Mahadev, you know what's going on in our hearts, but we also know that you'll never wish us harm."]

She slowly opened her palms, turning them upward in a silent gesture of offering, surrendering her desires to the divine without conditions.

Just as rivers, with all their twists and turns, ultimately surrender themselves to the vastness of the ocean, we too should let our desires and wishes flow freely towards Mahadev—trusting that in merging with His will, they will find their true purpose and peace.

“Mujhe yeh toh pata hai ki mujhe kya chahiye lekin aap yeh jante hai ki kya sahi hai mere liye…aapko lage toh mujhe voh de dijiyega jo mere liye sahi hoga lekin us sahi main bas meri khushi ka dhyan rakhiyega…”

The words escaped her like a secret told to an old friend, not a god perched on a pedestal. There was no fear in her prayer, just an unshakable faith—a soft, intimate conversation with someone who knew every corner of her heart.

["I know what I want, but you know what's best for me...If it seems right to you, please give me what's good for me,But in that goodness, just consider my happiness..."]

She stood still, her eyes gently shut, hands folded close to her heart, lost in the sacred stillness that only true faith could bring. The air around her pulsed with devotion, but within her, it was quiet—just her and her Mahadev.

In a voice trembling with quiet hope, she whispered, “Agar unka aur mera milan ek percent bhi possible hai toh please Mahadev ek sign toh dijiye…”

["If even a one percent chance of our union is possible, please, Mahadev, give me a sign..."]

The plea hung softly in the air, like incense smoke curling toward the heavens—fragile, honest, and full of longing.

And in that exact moment, from behind her, the sound of a bell rang out—clear and sudden, slicing through the silence.

“Clang.”

It was Hriday, who had just climbed the temple stairs, unaware of the wish that had just been offered to Mahadev. He stood with folded hands, his eyes quietly searching the idol ahead. His presence filled the space behind her, but Chahat remained still, unmoved.

She didn’t open her eyes.

She didn’t flinch at the sound.

She stayed in her moment, unaware that the very sign she had asked for had already arrived, not through words, but through the divine rhythm of perfect timing.

The universe had answered—softly, silently, like Mahadev always does.

Chahat stood in silence for a few more moments, waiting—hoping—for something. A feeling, a sign, a shift. But nothing happened, or so she thought.

She slowly exhaled, the softest sigh escaping her lips. Not of frustration, but of quiet disappointment—the kind that comes when you want something deeply but choose to let it go.

She lowered her hands from the prayer position and opened her eyes gently. A small smile formed on her face, one born out of faith, not regret.

“Aap jante ho Mahadev… toh theek hai. Jo aapko sahi lage,” she murmured inwardly.

["You know best, Mahadev... so be it. Whatever you deem right."]

Just as she turned around to leave, a lady stepped beside her to offer her prayers. Chahat shifted to the side politely, unknowingly turning her back toward the direction where Hriday now stood—just a few steps behind her, his eyes closed, hands joined in his own prayer.

Fate, perhaps, had brought them to the same place, the same moment—but not face to face.

She descended the stairs with the same soft chime of her anklets, the sound fading gently behind her. But in her hurried steps, she didn’t notice—one of the tiny silver anklets had slipped off her ankle. It rolled a little on the stone floor, coming to a stop right beside Hriday’s feet.

He remained still, eyes closed in devotion, unaware of the delicate sign resting just inches from him.

A gentle breeze moved through the temple corridor, carrying with it a fragrance that wasn’t from the incense or the fresh marigold garlands. It was something softer, more familiar—something that tugged at the memory rather than the senses.

Hriday slowly opened his eyes.

“Chahat ki khushboo…”he whispered, his gaze instinctively drifting toward the direction she had just walked away from. His eyes searched the space ahead, but it stood empty. No glimpse of pink, no fluttering dupatta—just the sacred stillness of the temple.

[ Fragrance of chahat]

But he felt her. 

He always did.

That scent, like the first rain on dry earth, is delicate and unforgettable. The same way she always lingered—not just in the air, but somewhere deep within him.

“Kya ho raha hai Hriday tujhe…”he muttered to himself, shaking his head as if trying to break free from the invisible thread pulling at his heart. He sighed deeply, grounding himself again, and turned to leave.

[ What's happening to you hriday ?]

But the moment his right foot shifted, he stepped on something small and sharp.

“Clink”

A sudden sting. He winced and quickly lifted his foot, only to notice a small trail of red blooming from the edge of his skin. On the floor, lying quietly, was a delicate silver anklet—slightly bent from the pressure of his step.

He bent down and picked it up, his fingers brushing against its cool metal. There was something oddly familiar about it—simple, graceful, and yet… unplaceable.

He stared at it for a moment, lost in thought.

Whose could it be?

He looked around the temple, but no one seemed to be searching for anything. No anxious glances, no calls for a lost item. Just the steady flow of people coming and going.

Still holding the anklet, he glanced up at Mahadev’s idol.

“Aapke ghar mein mila hai, kuch toh matlab hoga,” he said under his breath, tucking the anklet carefully into his pocket. He didn’t know whose it was, or what it meant.

["It happened at your home, there must be some significance."]

But something inside him told him it wasn’t just a coincidence.

Not here. 

Not today.

The marble of the temple floor was marred by small, bloodstained footprints of hriday. It was as if Shiv himself had walked away from the temple, leaving behind a trail of his presence. The footprints were faint, but their meaning was clear—someone had departed. Hriday had taken the anklet, and with it, something sacred had left the temple, vanishing into the unknown.

Chahat stood still, staring at the empty spot on the floor where her anklet had once been. She felt a tightness in her chest, realizing that something precious was lost. One anklet was missing, and the other still jingled lightly with every step she took.

“Meri payal…” she whispered in shock, looking down at her bare ankle. She slapped her forehead in frustration. It was gone. But then she thought, “Shayad upar reh gayi,” and decided to look for it at the top of the stairs. Her hope led her up, but in her hurry, she stepped into a bowl of alta, the red dye used in temple rituals. It stained her foot bright red.

[ My anklet]

Chahat didn’t realize at first, but as she moved, she noticed the red marks she was leaving on the floor. Her footprints matched the ones from earlier, those left by the person who had walked before her. The temple now felt different, as though her steps were somehow connected to the divine.

As she walked through the temple, the red alta on her feet marked the ground like Parvati’s steps—symbolizing the goddess’s presence in the sacred space. But the temple felt strange now. Her feet, stained in red, left their own imprint, while the footprints of Shiv led away from the temple, as though he was leaving, just as Hriday had taken the anklet and walked away.

"Arey, Chahat beta, yeh aapke pair ke nishaan hai?" Pandit ji asked, his eyes widening as he noticed the red stains of alta on her feet and the footprints she left behind on the marble floor.

["Oh, dear Chahat, are these marks on your feet?"]

Chahat, flustered and embarrassed, immediately bowed her head. "Maaf kijiye Pandit ji, voh galti se ho gaya. Main toh apni payal dhoondhne aayi thi," she said apologetically, gesturing toward the footprints, now clearly visible on the ground. Pandit ji’s gaze shifted from her to the unusual trail left behind, which seemed to go in two different directions.

["Forgive me, Pandit ji, it happened by mistake. I had come to look for my anklet."]

He frowned, puzzled by the conflicting marks. "Lekin shayad payal nahi hai, koi nahi," Chahat sighed, her voice thick with sadness. She looked down at her bare ankle, realizing that her favorite anklet was lost, perhaps never to be found.

["But perhaps it's not the anklet, no matter."]

She stood for a moment, feeling the weight of the loss, then turned to leave the temple. But as she stepped forward, her foot landed on the same path that Hriday's footprints had left behind—his trail still marked on the marble floor, as though he had been there just moments ago.

“Aisa lagta hai, maano, ek dusre ke raaste ab alag hone wale hain… jaane - na jaane, mai ek dusre se door hone wale hain,” Pandit ji said softly, his voice carrying a quiet sorrow as he gazed at the footprints on the marble. He seemed lost in thought, as if the footprints spoke to him of something deeper, something beyond the physical.

["It feels like, as if, our paths are about to diverge... knowingly or unknowingly, we're drifting apart from each other."]

He turned towards the idol of Mahadev, his eyes reflecting a deep reverence, and folded his hands in prayer. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head, as if seeking understanding, or perhaps forgiveness, for the rift he felt was quietly unfolding.

—----🌹—-----

“Class, from today I’m going to take your finance lecture also,” Hriday announced, standing at the front of the classroom, his voice calm and firm. “Your principal believes it’s important for all of you to have financial literacy in college.”

He glanced around the room, pausing when his eyes landed on Chahat, who—as always—was lost in her books. A small smile curved on his lips seeing her so focused, though she hadn’t noticed his gaze.

“Sir!”

The sharp call of a voice made everyone turn toward the door. There stood Esha, her usual bright smile on display as she looked straight at Hriday. Her sudden appearance brought whispers among the students—Esha had been suspended before for stealing a question paper from the department. Her return now was unexpected.

“You’re late,” Hriday said, checking his watch, then looking at her bandaged leg. Esha gave an innocent pout, pointing to her injury like it was a valid excuse. Hriday sighed, not wanting to create more drama or hinder her academics. With a slight nod, he gestured to her to take her seat. She smiled wide, almost too proudly, and walked to her bench with a limp that looked more dramatic than painful.

“Alright, let’s begin,” Hriday said, turning back to the board and starting the lecture.

He explained the basics of finance—how to invest money, the concept of SIPs, savings, budgeting, and why it's crucial to begin early. The students listened, some more attentively than others, but one heart in the room beat louder than all.

Chahat, though her eyes were on her notebook, wasn't really listening to the topic. She was listening to his voice. Every word he spoke made her heart race like a train speeding through the tracks. Her cheeks turned pink every time he looked in her direction.

She tried to act normal, doodling random shapes in her notebook—but her eyes kept drifting back to Hriday. Every smile, every gesture, was a reason for her to blush a little harder.

And while the class was learning about finance, Chahat was caught up in the sweet chaos of a silent crush.

"I hope you all understood today’s topic and didn't forget to submit your assignment,” Hriday said, addressing the entire class—but his eyes, steady and quiet, remained fixed on one person,Chahat.

Slowly, Chahat rose from her seat, clutching her assignment in her hands. Her steps were soft, hesitant, as she walked toward his desk. Hriday watched her every movement, his gaze gentle, lingering, as if trying to read the thoughts she carefully kept hidden behind lowered lashes.

She reached the table and placed her assignment there with a quiet composure. Hriday was about to ask her to help him stack the papers in his cabin—just to make her stay a little longer, maybe say something more—but before the words could leave his lips…

“Sir, I have a doubt in finance, can you solve it?” Esha’s voice rang out as she gathered her books, her eyes gleaming with a sly innocence.

Hriday turned to her, caught between duty and something unspoken. As a professor, he couldn’t refuse. He gave a small nod, picking up his materials to walk out with her. But just before leaving, his eyes flickered back to Chahat.

She stood frozen, her fingers curled into a tight fist by her side, jaw clenched hard enough to tremble. Inside her, something sharp twisted—a deep, aching sting, like a blade sliding right through her chest. It wasn't just jealousy; it was heartbreak in its rawest, quietest form. Her heart was screaming, silently begging Esha to step away from Hriday, to not stand so close, to not take what felt like hers… even if she’d never said it out loud.

But she stayed silent, watching them walk away, her assignment lying forgotten on the desk behind her—just like the feelings she never got the chance to express.

—-------🌹—------

Chahat pov :

“Chahat, kahan kho gayi hai, chhale?” Jiya’s voice broke through the storm in my head as she shook my shoulder gently, dragging me out of my trance.

[ Chahat, where are you lost ? Let's go ?]

“Haan… chal,” I whispered, clutching the books tightly to my chest as I walked out of the class with her. My steps were heavy, my heart heavier.

[ Yeah]

I really just wanted to strangle Esha sometimes. I mean seriously—today, of all days, now  she suddenly has a doubt in finance? Really? I know I shouldn’t react like this… shouldn’t let it show… but I hated seeing her with him. I hated it.

Mahadev… I told you, I’ve surrendered everything to your will. But these feelings? They don’t listen to logic. They’re born in my heart, and my heart… it belongs to him.

It felt like someone had poured acid over my chest. My heart burned, and my eyes stung with unshed tears. I hate admitting it, but I was jealous—jealous to the bone.

“Esha ke saath Hriday sir bahut ache lag rahe hain,” Jiya said absentmindedly beside me, completely unaware of the knife her words twisted deeper into my chest.

[ Esha and hriday sir are looking happy together]

I followed her gaze—and there they were. He was smiling. She was laughing. And they looked like… they belonged.

My throat went dry, like a desert starved for rain, parched and aching. I couldn’t bear it.

I turned away quickly, unable to watch another second, and walked off—no, almost ran—down the corridor.

I collided into someone with a loud *thud*, my books flying from my hands and scattering across the floor. I stumbled, gripping the nearest thing to stop myself from falling—and ended up clutching someone’s shirt tightly. 

Startled, I looked up, only to find Somesh sir standing there with a familiar amused smile on his face. 

“Chahat, dhyan kahan hai aapka?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he gently helped me regain my balance. 

[ Chahat, where are you lost ?]

He was only three years older than us, but ever since my first year, he had treated me like a little sister. There was a warmth in his presence that always felt safe. 

“Nothing… sorry,” I mumbled, quickly kneeling down to gather my scattered pages. He crouched beside me, helping without saying a word.

“Thank you,” I said softly as we finished picking everything up. He smiled and, like always, pulled out a small chocolate and handed it to me.

“Iski kya zaroorat thi, sir?” I said, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips. He always brought chocolates for me—ever since I had tied a rakhi on his wrist during our first Raksha Bandhan in college. That small moment had turned into a bond that neither of us ever questioned.

[ What's the need of this sir]

“Meri behen ke liye chocolate nahi laa sakta main?” he said with mock seriousness, tapping the top of my head playfully. I finally smiled, a real one this time—something I hadn’t done since class.

[ Why can't I buy chocolate for my sister ?]

He pinched my cheek lightly, the way older brothers do, and walked off toward his classroom, leaving behind a little piece of comfort I didn’t know I needed today.

As I turned to walk away, clutching my books and the little chocolate Somesh sir gave me, a strange heaviness still lingered in my chest. But just as I reached the gate, I paused for a second—I could feel it.

Someone was watching me.

That silent gaze, heavy and still, was burning into my back. I didn’t turn. I didn’t need to. I knew who it was. I could sense it the way the body feels a shift in the wind before the rain.

But I ignored it.

I kept walking—past the murmurs, past the pain, past the ache of unsaid words—and stepped out of the college gate, letting the cool breeze brush against my face.

All I wanted now was to go home. 

Somewhere quiet. 

Somewhere peaceful. 

Somewhere far from stolen glances and unspoken feelings.

Just for a while… I wanted to breathe without my feelings.

—---🌹—---

Author pov :

"I'm so sorry, I included you in my message," Jhilmil said hurriedly, her brows drawn together in worry, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sameer tilted his head, his gaze never leaving her face. "It's okay, I will be more than happy," he said dreamily, a hopeful gleam in his eyes as if her words were music to his ears.

Jhilmil frowned, confused by his tone, her arms folding over her chest defensively.

"Mera matlab aapke mai kuch kaam aa saku usse jada mujhse kya he chahiye?" Sameer added, reaching out and gently holding her hand with a flair of theatrical passion, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

[ "What more could I possibly want than to be of use to you?"]

Jhilmil blinked, caught between surprise and secondhand embarrassment, a crooked, awkward smile tugging at her lips.

"Fake dating mission?" Sameer asked, trying—failing—to hide the excitement bubbling in his voice.

Jhilmil gave him a tired look, her shoulders sagging slightly as she nodded in reluctant defeat. This was the only way out of the mess she had created.

Sameer grinned like a kid handed candy, while Jhilmil sighed, already dreading the drama that was sure to follow.

—---🌹—---

Jay paced restlessly across the room, his eyes fixed on the door. He glanced at the clock and then at his phone. With a sigh, he called Ganga. His voice trembled with worry as he spoke into the phone.

“Aap Ko akele jaane ki kya jarurat thi, Ganga?” Jay said in a worried voice, looking at the blank space.

["Why did you need to leave alone, Ganga?"]

There was a pause before Ganga’s calm voice responded on the other end of the call.

“Aap fikar mat kijiye, hum jaldi aa jayege kuch kaam tha” Ganga replied in assurance.

["Don't worry, we'll be back soon, there was some work."]

Jay's fingers tightened around the phone, his breathing uneven. He looked out the window, the darkness outside only adding to his concern.

“Ganga, hamara Dil ghabra Raha hai jaldi aayiye.” jay said still in worried, voice low and shaky

[ Ganga come back soon my heart is getting worried]

_____🌹______

Hriday pov :

I was playing with the anklet that I got from the temple, staring into the blank space in my study room. A deep sigh escaped me as I tried to calm the storm of thoughts in my head. The constant overthinking was starting to give me a headache.

Flashback

I was helping Esha with some finance problems when my eyes drifted—there she was. Chahat had fallen into someone else's arms. My heart sank.

I clenched my fist tightly at the sight of her in someone else's embrace.

“You don't have any rights, control,” I muttered to myself, trying to suppress the acid pouring into my gaze.

“Chahat and Somesh sir ka affair wapis chalu ho gaya,” Esha said suddenly, breaking my trance.

[ Chahat and somesh sir affair is still on]

I looked at her in surprise.

“Haan sir, aapko nahi pata kya?”she asked, her tone laced with worry.

[ You don't know about it sir ?]

I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to believe her.

“Arey sir, Chahat aise hi hai. Pehle sharmati hai aur phir... dekh lijiye kaise hai rahi hai voh. Aur Somesh sir gaal sehla rahe hai uska,” Esha added, pointing towards them.

["Sir, that's just how Chahat is. She's shy at first, but then... just see how she's behaving now. And Somesh sir is teasing her."]

I followed her gaze—there they were. Chahat laughed, and Somesh brushed her cheek gently.

My fingers curled tighter around the pen in my hand, knuckles white. I shouldn’t feel this way. I have no right. No claim. No promises between us.

But damn it… seeing her like that—smiling, his hand on her cheek like she belonged there—it burned.

Jealousy isn’t even the word. It was something uglier, something deeper. A slow poison rising in my chest, making it hard to breathe. My chest tightened, my throat dry. I wanted to look away, but my eyes betrayed me. They stayed locked on her.

She didn’t even flinch. Not when he touched her. Not when he leaned in closer. She smiled. She smiled like I didn’t exist.

And that’s what hurt the most. I didn’t exist in her world anymore, did I?

I kept telling myself—you don’t have the right.You don’t get to be jealous. You’re just a passerby in her story now. Not the hero. Not even the supporting act. Just a shadow watching her light fall on someone else.

But tell that to the ache clawing at my insides.

Flashback ends

I clutched the anklet tightly in my arms, the cool metal digging into my skin as if it could anchor me to something—anything—but her.

I closed my eyes.

The noise around me faded, replaced by the roaring in my head and the hollow ache in my chest. I took a slow breath, steadying the storm inside me.

This isn’t right.

This feeling—this bitterness, this ache, this… jealousy—it has no place in my heart. Not anymore. Not when I have no claim, no promises, no right.

I take an oath

To stay away from her. From her sight. From her path. No more stolen glances. No more silent hopes. No more lingering near the spaces she walks.

I will not let my heart betray me again.

This is my decision. My resolve.

Even if it hurts.

Especially because it hurts.

“Bhaiya…”

My trance broke instantly. I looked up to see Yuvraj standing at the door of the study room, his eyes slightly moist, his breath uneven.

I immediately stood up, my grip on the anklet loosening, heart pounding again—but for a different reason now.

He stepped closer, voice low, trembling with fear.

“Badi Maa ka accident ho gaya hai…”

For a second, his words hung in the air, unreal, almost echoing.

[ Ganga ma met with an accident]

I blinked, stunned. What?

My breath caught in my throat, chest tightening in disbelief. Everything inside me stilled—the pain, the jealousy, the anger—all swallowed by a sudden wave of dread.

“Kya?”I whispered, my voice barely escaping.

The room spun for a moment, and all I could think was—

“How”

___(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤___

Chapter -8

Hriday pov :

She scattered the mirror vase on the floor and looked at me, vulnerable and trembling. I stood frozen, staring back with eyes heavy with hurt.

"Mat kariye humse prem, takleef hogi aapko," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

["Don’t fall in love with me, it will only bring you pain."]

She cried in front of me — and I knew. I knew her love would lead me to ruin, to fire, to a path of pain. And yet, I walked towards her, unflinching, like I belonged in the fire. Like it was my home.

"Agar aapse prem karne ke badle humain maut bhi mile, toh manzoor hai," I said, stepping through the shattered glass, feeling every shard pierce my skin, but never slowing down.

["Even if loving you leads me to death, I’ll accept it willingly."]

She looked up at me, eyes glistening with tears.

"Aapse prem karna, humain kitni bhi takleef de lekin..."

I stopped in front of her, our pain reflected in each other's gaze. I cupped her jaw gently, letting my thumb brush away a tear as I leaned closer, my voice a trembling whisper.

["Loving you may bring me all the pain in the world, but..."]

"...aapse prem na karne ki koshish se kam takleef dega."

I nuzzled my nose into her cheek, feeling her warmth through the ache.

["...but trying not to love you will hurt even more than the pain of loving you."]

I woke up from my dream, drenched in sweat, eyes darting around in confusion. I was still in the hospital chair. Everyone was here.

Dada-sa and Dadi-sa were seated quietly, their expressions heavy with worry. Jayveer sat beside them, tense and restless, tapping his foot as if trying to distract himself from the weight in his chest.

Yuvraj was fast asleep in my lap, his little breaths steady and peaceful, while Vidyut rested his head on my shoulder, unmoving.

I exhaled slowly, trying to calm the storm inside me.

Maybe I don’t care about her the way people expect me to. Maybe our relationship was never strong enough to hold a conversation without silence filling the cracks. But that doesn’t mean I ever wished her harm.

I never had any evil intentions for her. I never wanted her to be hurt.

Because in the end… she's connected to my family. And for that reason alone, she matters. Even if we are strangers tied by broken threads.

“Patient’s husband?” The doctor stepped out of the room, and we all immediately stood up. I gently shook Yuvraj and Vidyut awake, then walked toward the doctor.

“Main hoon. Woh kaise hai? Zyada toh nahi lagi na?” Jaiveer’s voice cracked as he rushed forward, rising from the chair. His helplessness was painfully visible, and I clenched my jaw.

["I'm here. How is she? She didn’t get hurt too badly, right?"]

Because that worry in his eyes... it didn’t used to be there.

Not for her.

Not like this.

“Woh theek hai, bas sar mein choti si chot lagi hai. Dhyan rakhna.”The doctor gave a reassuring pat on Jaiveer’s shoulder, and we all followed him inside the room.

["She’s fine, just a small injury on the head. Please take care of her."]

She was sitting on the hospital bed, a clean white bandage wrapped around her head. Her face was pale but calm.

“Ganga,” Jaiveer whispered as he rushed to her side, hugging her tightly before sitting in front of her.

I stayed quietly in the corner, my eyes fixed on the two of them.

Everyone gathered around, asking about her condition, offering comfort.

I said nothing.

“Ganga beta, ab theek lag raha hai na?”

Dada-sa asked softly, gently caressing her head. She smiled, nodding.

[ "Ganga beta, are you feeling better now?"]

“Dada-sa, meri badi maa toh ek strong woman hai. Unko kuch nahi hota, hai na badi maa?”

Yuvraj beamed with confidence as he hugged her tightly, making her laugh softly despite the bandage.

["Dada-sa, my Badi Maa is a strong woman. Nothing ever happens to her, right Badi Maa?"]

“Maa...”Vidyut’s voice was a whisper as he knelt down in front of her. He took her hands in his and pressed a gentle kiss to her palms. Then, without a word, he rested his head on her lap, wrapping his arms around her like he didn’t want to let go.

She placed her hand on his head, gently stroking his hair.

Vidyut has always been deeply attached to her — after all, she is his mother.

He never interfered in our fights.

Never took sides.

He was the kind of person who kept his pain locked deep inside, tucked behind a quiet shell.

Watching him like that, I felt a strange ache crawl into my chest. A mixture of guilt, distance… and something I couldn’t name.

“Chaliye, ghar chale,” Jaiveer said, holding out his hand. She gave her left hand first, letting him hold it, and slipped on her sandals as they headed out of the room.

[ Let's go home]

She wore a green saree with golden embroidery.

I watched her from behind as she walked away with everyone else—but my mind stayed behind.

—---🌹—---

Chahat  pov

“Kyun karte hai aap mujhse itni mohabbat?”

My voice broke as I collapsed to my knees, the weight of everything crashing down on me. Tears streamed freely, blurring my vision, soaking my cheeks, and falling onto the floor like shattered pieces of my heart. The silence around us seemed to echo my pain.

["Why do you love me so much?"]

He didn’t hesitate—not for a second. He knelt down in front of me, his eyes full of anguish and love. Slowly, gently, he reached out and cupped my face, his touch trembling yet tender, as if I were made of porcelain and might break with a single breath.

“Aap Se mohabbat ke siwa hamare paas jeene ke liye aur koi wajah nahi hai.”

His words came out in a whisper, soft but piercing, like a prayer laced with desperation. His eyes locked with mine, unflinching, raw, full of truth. The world seemed to still be in that moment.

["Other than loving you, I have no other reason to live."]

And just as I tried to search his face for more—more answers, more warmth, more him—

I jolted awake.

My breath hitched as I sat up, clutching my head with both hands. A dull, throbbing headache pulsed through my skull, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. The dream still lingered, heavy and haunting, as if he had been real—so real—that I could still feel the warmth of his touch on my skin.

“Thak chuki hu, Mahadev… in sapno se,” I whispered, my voice cracking as the tears returned, uninvited and relentless. I curled into myself on the cold floor, wrapping my arms around my knees like a child searching for shelter in her own embrace. My eyes shut tightly, as if darkness could offer some relief. “Kya chahte hai yeh mujhse?” I cried out again, my voice barely rising above a whisper now, as if even my soul was tired of screaming.

["I'm tired, Mahadev… of these dreams.

What do they want from me?"]

I was exhausted—drained—by the dreams that haunted me night after night. Sometimes they came as tender whispers, soft memories of a man whose love felt too real to be imagined. Other nights, they came as storms—leaving me breathless, shaken, and full of questions.

Who was he?

Why him?

Why me?

Some days, all I wanted was to run—to leave him, that face, those eyes, that pull—far behind and disappear into silence. But other times… God, other times, I longed to be held by him, to fall into the warmth of his arms and never wake up.

What kind of dream leaves your heart aching like it’s real?

What kind of nightmare makes you wish it wasn’t?

I didn’t know if I was losing sleep… or slowly losing myself.

—---🌹—---

Author's pov :

“Chahat!” Esha shouted her name with a smile, startling Chahat, who turned to look at her. Everyone in the class knew that Esha didn't like Chahat.

“Somesh sir tumhe bula rahe hain,” Esha said, rolling her eyes as she handed a dance competition form to her.

["Somesh sir is calling you."]

Chahat narrowed her eyes. She knew that whenever Esha acted friendly, it usually meant trouble. But this time, it seemed harmless. What’s wrong with handing over a form?

“Thank you,” Chahat said, taking the form and walking toward Somesh sir’s cabin. Esha smiled and left the classroom behind her.

“Yeh Esha ke tevar badle nahi lag rahe?” Jiya said suspiciously.

["Doesn't Esha's attitude seem different lately?"]

“Tumse toh kam hi tevar dikhati hai,” Raj replied, rolling his eyes while solving math problems.

[She's got less attitude than you ]

“Tumhara masla kya hai mujhse? Sidhe muh baat nahi kar sakte?” Jiya whisper-yelled, glaring at him.

["What’s your problem with me? Can’t you talk properly?]

“Tumse sidhe muh kya, ulte muh bhi baat nahi kar sakta main, kyunki tumhari kenchi si zubaan hai,” Raj replied, still focused on his sums.

["I can’t talk to you straight or otherwise, because your tongue’s sharp like scissors."]

“Kis manhoos ghadi mein tumse dosti ki thi,” Jiya muttered, snatching his notebook.

["What cursed moment was it when I became friends with you?"]

Raj glared. “Feelings are mutual here. And give my notebook back!” he shouted.

But Jiya just smiled mischievously and ran off with the notebook.

“Jiya!” Raj shouted, running after her. She giggled, dashing through the corridor with the notebook in hand, while he chased close behind.

—---🌹—---

Chahat walked down the quiet corridor, holding the dance competition form in her hand. The soft sound of her footsteps echoed faintly as she approached Somesh sir’s cabin. Her mind wandered for a moment, thinking about Esha’s sudden change in behavior. Something about it didn’t sit right with her.

Just as she turned the corner, a sudden force shoved her from the side. Caught completely off guard, her body lurched forward, and the form slipped slightly from her fingers. Her eyes widened in panic as she braced herself for the impact with the hard floor.

But before she could fall, a firm pair of hands caught her by the forearms, steadying her. She instinctively grabbed onto the person’s shirt, clutching it tightly in a fist to regain her balance. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly looked up.

“Chahat, tum thik ho?”

She blinked, taking in the familiar face of Somesh sir, concern written all over it. A wave of relief washed over her as she nodded, still catching her breath.

[ Chahat, are you okay ?]

“Bacha, dhyan rakho lag jaati abhi toh?” Somesh sir said, his voice filled with worry as he steadied her completely.

["Careful, kid— you almost got hurt just now!"]

“Ji bhaiya,” Chahat responded softly, nodding again. She turned her head slightly, eyes scanning the hallway behind her, searching for the girl who had pushed her. But the corridor was empty. Whoever it was had vanished without a trace.

[ Yes, brother ]

Trying to shake off the confusion, she turned back to Somesh sir with a small smile. “Aapne mujhe bulaya tha sir?”

[ Did you call me ?]

But Somesh sir’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Nahi, maine toh nahi bulaya kyun?” he said, clearly surprised, and looked at her with a slight frown.

[ No, I didn't call you, why ?]

Chahat hesitated. Esha’s name hovered on her lips, but something inside told her not to bring it up. There was no use dragging a teacher into the petty games some students played.

She shook her head and looked down at the floor. “Nahi, kuch nahi jaane dijiye,” she said quietly.

[ Nothing]

Somesh sir watched her for a moment before his expression softened with a teasing smile. He lightly tapped her forehead with his fingers. “Meri pyari behna, ka dimaag aaj kal jada chalne laga hai kya?”

["My dear sister, has your brain been working overtime lately or what?"]

Chahat’s eyes widened in playful protest, and she pouted at him. “Bhaiya, aapna bahut gande hai,” she said with a mock glare.

["Brother, you’re so bad!"]

Somesh sir raised his hands in surrender, holding his ears in fake apology, and both of them burst into laughter, the earlier tension forgotten in their sibling-like bond.

“Yahan kya ho raha hai?”

The sudden voice sliced through the corridor like a whip cracking against silence.

[ What's happening here ?]

Both Somesh sir and Chahat flinched, startled. Their heads turned sharply toward the voice, and Chahat’s heart skipped a beat—no, it dropped to her stomach. That voice. She didn’t need to look up to know who it belonged to.

Hriday stood a few feet away, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it could shatter teeth. His eyes burned with something fierce—something unspoken but far from subtle. Like a storm cloud swelling behind the calm, thunder rumbling low in his chest.

His gaze was fixed on Somesh sir’s hand still resting on Chahat’s hair, and then it flicked down to the way she stood close, her eyes lowered like a guilty secret. A flame of jealousy roared to life in his chest. It wasn't just a flicker—it was a wildfire, uncontrollable, scorching his insides.

In his mind, logic tried to whisper:

"You don't have any rights, Hriday. Calm down."

But the voice of reason was a faint breeze against the hurricane inside him.

Hriday took a silent step forward, placing himself subtly between Chahat and Somesh sir—not aggressively, but protectively, possessively. Like a knight stepping in front of his queen, even if she never asked to be guarded.

Chahat could feel the heat of him standing so near, but she kept her eyes down, avoiding his gaze. Her nervousness didn’t go unnoticed, and it only stoked the fire inside him further. Why wouldn't she look at him? Was it hate? Or fear? Or something worse—indifference?

That thought alone was a dagger.

“Sir, it's time for the class,” Hriday said, his voice a controlled storm—polite on the surface, but thick with tension. His eyes didn’t leave Somesh sir’s.

Somesh sir gave a small nod, seemingly unaware of the silent war Hriday was fighting inside. He ruffled Chahat’s hair affectionately before turning away.

And just like that, Hriday’s composure nearly snapped.

It felt like someone had poured gasoline on the fire already burning inside him. Every second that hand lingered in her hair was like a spark falling into dry grass. His fists curled at his sides, nails pressing into his palms so tightly he could feel the sting.

It wasn’t just jealousy. It was the bitter taste of watching someone else stand in a place he desperately wanted to be. Watching a moment he didn’t have the right to interrupt—but couldn’t bear to ignore.

He wanted to scream. Or punch the wall. Or tell her to look at him—really look at him—and see how much he was breaking just standing there.

But all he could do was stand still, burning in silence, while the two people in front of him remained oblivious to the war waging within.

“Miss Chahat Tripathi,” Hriday said, his voice tightly leashed, struggling to keep his jealousy from spilling over. His tone was formal, clipped, but the undercurrent of frustration was sharp enough to cut glass. “I would be more than happy if you focus on your study here inside the campus of the college.”

Chahat flinched ever so slightly. Though his words were polished, his voice carried the weight of barely concealed anger. She felt like a student caught in a storm—not just of reprimand, but of something deeper, more personal. Keeping her gaze down, she simply nodded.

That nod.

Hriday’s lips twitched—not with amusement, but with irritation. His jaw flexed again, his patience thinning like a fraying thread. Her silence, her passivity—it felt like a wall she was building between them, brick by brick. And he hated that wall.

“Assignment jo diye the, ho gaye?” he asked, his voice a notch sterner this time.

["Did you finish the assignments I gave you?"]

Again, a nod. Silent. Obedient.

Hriday's eyes darkened. The fire that had been simmering in his chest now surged, threatening to boil over.

“Gungi ho?” he snapped, his tone harsher than he intended.

["Are you mute or what?"]

The words cut through the air like a slap.

Chahat gasped softly, shocked. Her eyes flew up, wide with disbelief, and she shook her head quickly, her breath catching in her throat.

That was when she realized what she’d been doing—shrinking, retreating, avoiding him. As if he were a stranger. As if she didn’t know the man behind the sharp words and jealous eyes.

Her gaze finally met his.

And in that brief, heavy silence, her eyes spoke—of confusion, of hurt, of fear… but somewhere, buried beneath it all, a flicker of defiance. Of understanding. Of unspoken emotion.

Hriday held her gaze, and for a moment, the air between them stilled. The tension didn’t break—it just thickened, electric and heavy, like the pause before a storm breaks the sky.

Her soft brown orbs met his stormy green ones—like earth grounding a raging forest fire, steady and calm against a wild, untamed blaze

They looked at each other like two souls carved from the same star—familiar yet foreign, as if they’d known each other for lifetimes, yet remained unmet, untouched, suspended in a moment that had waited too long to arrive.

“Hum gunge nahi hai,” Chahat finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air like fragile petals drifting down, delicate but sure. As soon as they left her lips, she broke eye contact, her gaze falling back to the floor, unsure and shy.

[ I'm not mute]

Hriday’s eyes softened.

“Humne kab kahan aap gungi hai?” he replied, his tone far gentler now. The fire that had raged in him moments ago had quieted into a soothing warmth. It was as if her one glance—nervous, vulnerable, yet brave—had poured cool water over the jealousy burning inside him. Now, he was calmer than the ocean on a windless night.

[ When I said that you are mute ?]

“Toh aapke kehne ka matlab kya tha?” Chahat questioned, her eyes narrowing with suspicion as she tilted her head slightly, trying to read the expression on his face.

["So, what did you mean by that?"]

“Gungi nahi hona?” Hriday shot back with a teasing smirk, his tone light but enough to make her annoyance flare visibly.

[ Are you mute ?]

“Shant aapko achi nahi lagti main?” she said a moment later, her voice softening. She bit her lower lip shyly, her cheeks blooming with a faint blush as her eyes met his, unsure but curious.

["You don’t like me when I’m quiet?"]

A teasing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Vaise, bolti hui itni buri nahi lagti,” he said with a playful glint in his eyes.

[ By the way, you don't look bad while speaking ]

And just like that, he turned and walked away, heading toward the classroom without waiting for a reply—leaving behind a girl whose cheeks now burned a rosy hue.

Chahat stood there, still clutching the form in her hands, her heart doing somersaults. A shy smile bloomed on her lips as she watched his retreating back. He didn’t see it—but maybe he felt it.

Something had shifted.

Even if they didn't say it aloud.

Maybe, they don't need to because

“Ajeeb si betaabi hai teri aur meri nazron mai,

Aakhein chup nahi rehti aur lab kuch keh nahi paate”

[There’s a strange restlessness in your eyes and mine,

Our eyes can’t hide it, and our lips just can’t speak it.]

_____🌹_____

“Aap thik haina, Ganga?” Jayveer asked for the fourth time that morning as Ganga gave him a gentle smile.

[ Are you fine, ganga ?]

“Main thik hoon, Jayveer. Shant rahiye aap,” Ganga said, sipping the soup quietly.

["I'm fine, Jayveer. Please stay calm."]

“Aap office jayiye, chinta mat kariye,” she added, encouraging Jayveer to go to work — which he finally did, though a bit reluctantly, yet with a heart somewhat at ease.

["You go to the office, don’t worry."]

After Jayveer left, Mainka entered Ganga’s room. Ganga, startled for a moment, looked up at her and then smiled faintly.

“Bhabhi, aap thik hain na? Main toh dar hi gayi thi,” Mainka said in a worried tone, sitting beside her.

["Bhabhi, are you alright? I got really scared."]

“Main thik hoon, Mainka,” Ganga replied with a tight-lipped smile.

[ I'm fine mainka]

“Waise, aapko chot lagi kaise?” Mainka asked while cutting an apple for Ganga, who just smiled slightly.

["By the way, how did you get hurt?]

“Woh… woh, car ka chhota sa accident ho gaya tha, toh bas... isliye,” Ganga said hurriedly, gulping down water quickly.

["Uh… it was just a small car accident, that’s all… that’s why."]

“Aaram se bhabhi. Aap toh aise darr rahi hain jaise aapki koi chori pakdi gayi ho,” Mainka joked, trying to lighten the mood.

["Relax, bhabhi. You’re acting as if you’ve been caught stealing something."]

But her words seemed to strike a nerve. Ganga’s expression changed, a flicker of anger in her eyes.

“Mera sar dukh raha hai... aap jaa sakti hain yahan se, please?” she said, her voice laced with barely hidden irritation.

["My head is hurting... could you please leave from here?"]

Surprised, Mainka quietly nodded and stepped out of the room.

“Chot bhabhi ke dimag par asar kar chuki hai,” she muttered to herself, heading toward her room for a nap.

["The injury has started affecting bhabhi’s mind."]

Mainka stepped into her room, only to be greeted by a soft, fragrant breeze—flowers and gajras adorned the space, their sweet aroma hanging in the air. She inhaled sharply, eyes landing on Veer, standing there silently with a gajra in his hands.

She drew in another breath, steadying herself.

“Veer, yeh sab kya hai…?” she asked nervously, her gaze flickering from the flowers to his eyes—eyes that looked straight into hers, a hint of mischief dancing in his smile.

["Veer, what is all this…?"]

Veer walked toward her slowly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close, their chests now brushing.

“Yeh humari biwi ke liye… humari maafi ka pehla kadam hai,” Veer said gently, lifting her chin so their eyes met again.

["This is for my wife… the first step in my apology."]

“Veer, yeh sab karne ki aapko koi zarurat nahi hai,” Mainka stammered, trying to calm her racing heart. The raw emotion in his eyes made her tremble.

[ "Veer, there's no need for you to do all this."]

“Zarurat hai, meri Mayna,” he whispered, caressing her waist softly. “Hum jaante hain woh beete pal—jinmein humne aapko takleef di—wo laut kar toh nahi aa sakte. Lekin ek nayi shuruaat zarur ho sakti hai… ek shuruaat, Veer ki apni Mayna ke saath.”

["It is necessary, my Mayna”]

[“I know those past moments—where I caused you pain—they can never return.

But a new beginning is still possible…

A beginning, of Veer with his own Mayna."]

His touch was warm, like a dried rose blooming once again in the desert—its thorns now softened into gentle petals.

“Ijazat hai humein?” Veer asked, brushing his nose against hers, making her gasp.

[“ Do I have your permission?”]

Mainka pushed him away suddenly, her cheeks flushed. She turned and ran out of the room, her heart thudding like a drum.

Veer smiled, holding the gajra close, inhaling its fragrance.

“Hum bhi dekhte hain… kab tak bhaagegi aap,” he murmured, a spark of determination in his eyes.

["Let’s see… how long you keep running from me."]

—--🌹—--

The chair crashed into the wall with a thunderous bang, splinters flying like shrapnel. Hriday stood in the center of the room, chest heaving, his fists clenched as if holding back a storm he could no longer control. Rage coursed through his veins like venom, slow and burning, coiling around his heart and squeezing it with every breath he took.

He hated himself.

Hated the way his heart betrayed him—becoming soft, vulnerable. Weak.

He had built walls, fortified with years of indifference and detachment, but she… she had seeped through the cracks like water—gentle, silent, dangerous.

And now, here he was, standing like a fool, aching for someone he was never meant to want.

His eyes darted to the photo frame lying carelessly on the table—he didn’t remember placing it there. But there it was. There they were.

Chahat, her eyes lit up like a thousand fireflies, laughing with Somesh Sir as if the world had paused just for their moment.

Their faces—so close.

Their smiles—too easy.

Their gaze—too intimate.

Hriday’s jaw clenched. Something inside him twisted painfully. Jealousy, sharp as a blade, slit open his chest and exposed every raw emotion he had buried. The way Chahat looked at Somesh… that smile, those eyes—they had never looked at him like that.

Why him?

Why not me?

He hated the way he was drawn to her—like a moth to a flame, knowing he’d be burned, yet unable to resist. It was pathetic.

He hated the flutter in his stomach when she laughed, the way her voice lingered in his mind like the ghost of a melody.

He hated that her happiness with someone else could shake him like this. Could ruin him like this.

She had become the storm in his carefully calm skies. And Somesh?

Somesh was the sun she chose to bloom under.

The irony was cruel.

He, who never believed in love, now found himself drowning in it—and she wasn’t even reaching out her hand.

Hriday grabbed the photo frame, his fingers trembling, and smashed it against the floor. The glass shattered, a perfect echo of the chaos within him.

His voice was a whisper, thick with pain and poison:

"You were never supposed to matter this much..."

Flashback

"Somesh sir… Chahat bahut important hai na aapke liye?" Hriday’s voice cut through the quiet hum of the faculty room. He leaned against the wall, arms folded, masking the storm that brewed inside.

["Somesh sir… Chahat is very important to you, isn’t she?"]

Somesh looked up from the stack of papers he was grading, a gentle smile curling on his lips as if the question brought a pleasant memory to surface.

"Bahut zyada," he replied simply, sincerely—like it was the most obvious truth in the world.

[Indeed]

Hriday’s jaw tightened. He forced a crooked smile, trying to play casual, though jealousy bubbled beneath his skin like boiling oil.

"Bahut purana rishta lagta hai..." he said, his tone laced with something bitter, something he was barely containing. He stared at Somesh, eyes sharp, hunting for answers he wasn’t brave enough to ask out loud.

["Seems like a very old bond."]

Somesh placed his pen down, leaned back in his chair, and gave a small, thoughtful nod.

"Bahut zyada. Woh mera parivaar hai, Hriday," he said with warmth—completely unaware that with every word, he was carving Hriday’s heart a little deeper.

["Very much. She is my family, Hriday.

Parivaar.

That word hit Hriday like a punch to the gut.

His breath caught for a second. A flicker of hurt flashed in his eyes before he blinked it away. He had come looking for a crack, a hesitation—some proof that what Chahat shared with Somesh was superficial, temporary. But all he found was certainty. A bond he could never touch.

His throat felt dry. His fists, clenched behind his back, trembled with restraint.

How do you fight for someone who already belongs somewhere else?

How do you hate a man who says the word family and means it with all his heart?

Hriday nodded slightly, words lodged in his throat, and turned away—his smile gone, swallowed by silence.

Inside, he was breaking all over again.

Flashback ends

Hriday stepped out onto the balcony, the cold wind slicing through his shirt, but it was nothing compared to the chill settling in his chest. He looked up at the moon—silent, distant, and hauntingly beautiful.

Just like her.

She glowed in someone else’s orbit, and he? He was just another planet, cursed to revolve around her warmth without ever being touched by it.

The moonlight spilled over the railings, silver and soft, mocking him. Did she look at the same moon and smile, thinking of him? Or was it Somesh whose name floated in her breath like a prayer?

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips.

Jealousy gnawed at him like a starving wolf, tearing into the pride he had spent years building. It wasn’t just that Somesh had her closeness—it was that she gave it willingly. Her laughter, her secrets, her trust. Things Hriday would sell his soul for, were being offered to another like gifts wrapped in gold.

He gripped the railing tightly, knuckles whitening.

"Enough."

He whispered to himself like an oath.

No more stolen glances. No more searching for her laugh in the hallway. No more hoping that one day she might turn around and see him.

She had made her choice. And he would make his.

He would be the storm that no longer chased the moon.

He would become the silence between her name and his heart.

She would see a version of Hriday who didn’t flinch at her presence, didn’t ache at her smile.

He would carve indifference out of this jealousy, sculpt walls from his heartbreak.

Because if he couldn’t have her light, he would teach himself to live in the dark.

“ Yeh kis kashmakash mein uljha diya hai tune mujhe,

Na chahte huye bhi teri chahat ho rahi hai,

Na samjhi samjhi  ise meri tu, magar,

Tujhe kise aur ke saath dekhkar,

Rooh ko aag si tapan ho rahi hai”

[What kind of dilemma have you entangled me in?

Even without wanting to, I find myself longing for you.

You never understood this feeling of mine, but still—

Seeing you with someone else

Sets my very soul ablaze with a burning ache.]

___💔___

Ishq you all🌹