"Bhai aaj to badiya ho gaya pooja bhi ho gyi or ghar par time bhi spent ho gaya" Shlok said to everyone who were sitting in the living room together.
(Today everything went well, worship was also done and we spent time at home also.)
I won't ask
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Dear Diary... I dreamt of Him. Again... It's been three years since he left this city and moved somewhere. I don't even know where he is. I don't know how he is doing, whether he has been married, or where he is. All I know is How he used to smile, How he used to laugh, How he used to look at me. But I don't know if he still loves Meethi Jalebi and Pheeki Chai, if he still loves children, if he still loves the smell of books, or if he still loves music. I met him in college, He taught me what a crush means and then what a Love looks like. He was the type of man whom any woman could love. Ankhein bhale hi kaali thi uski, Par kuch andhere sa nahi tha. (Even though his eyes were black, there was nothing dark about them.) Guitars ka bohot shauk chadha tha university k ladko ko us samay, Par Vo pagal to Sitar pe hi ataka tha. (At that time, the university boys were very fond of guitars, but this idiot was stuck on the sitar) His voice was so melodious as if he was the personal singer of God. I still remember how I met him 6 years ago, and then those 3 years became everything for me. I still remember the day, when I used to bunk classes just for his glimpse. He was one of the most famous guys in the college, and I used to hate drawing or giving unnecessary attention. But I wanted him to notice me. Kya kya nahi kiya uske liye... sajna sawarna, taking part in extracurricular activities. I was the shyest girl and his attention made me do everything that I hated. (What didn't I do for him...all dolled up) Isi Chakkar me voh toh kuch ban gaye aur hum unpe kitaabein hi likhte reh gaye. (In this process, he became successful and I kept writing books that were only about him) Vo Banaras ki Holi aur Ayodhya ki Diwali sa tha... Kabhi pheeka hi nahi padta tha. (He was like the Holi of Banaras and Diwali of Ayodhya... Never Paled) Aur main Barsaat k us mausam si jo Boondon se dhal jaati aur suraj ki ek kiran se nikhar. (And I was like the rainy season which faded away with drops and brightened with a ray of sun.) Agar ishq ka koi insaani chehara hota.. Toh usi ki tarh hota. (If Love had a face... then It would have been exactly Like Him) You must be curious, Right? Who is this Guy? Who am I? What happened between us? Were we a couple? Happy ending or Sad ending? Then let's read my diary together... where I have mentioned... Only Him. This is not "My Dear Diary" This is "Dear Him" This is "The Story of 1970s" When I saw Him for the first time. . . . (Ps- Only the Prologue is written in Hindi+English, Other than the Prologue, The complete book will be written in English.)
"Aditya, I—" "Just say yes or no." His voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. There was no warmth left, only the hard edge of authority. Shivalika didn't say anything. She knew if she replied with only Yes or No then he won't let her explain, so it is better to stay silent then bringing up more Misunderstandings. But Her silence was enough for him. "I know everything." His voice cracked like a whip. "The lies, the betrayal... You really thought I wouldn't find out?" Her eyes drifted to the papers in his hand—papers that would change everything. Her heart plummeted, face draining of color. She had never imagined the truth would come out like this. "D-DNA report..." Her voice trembled. Her family, who had been glaring with suspicion, was now frozen in shock. The betrayal was too much. His heart, once shattered, was now broken beyond repair. He had trusted her, believed her—foolishly. But she had betrayed him. Not once, but twice. She had left him without a word, and now, after all these years, she had hidden the truth about his daughter. "You hid it from me..." His voice was thick with disbelief, eyes wide in disbelief. "For eight years." His words were venomous. "I have a seven-year-old daughter, and I never knew she existed. I thought my child was dead! And you... you didn't think I had the right to know?" His voice broke into a whisper, one laced with pain. "You broke the already broken heart. I should've known. I shouldn't have trusted you after what you did to me eight years ago." His gaze darkened as he looked at her, disgust curling his lips. For the first time, Shivalika saw hatred for her in his eyes, and it pierced her soul. But she knew she deserved it—every ounce of his anger, every bit of his hate. She had broken him all over again. "You're a lawyer, right?" His voice was low but carried a dangerous weight. "You fight for human rights, but you robbed me of mine. You took away my rights as a father." "Ms. Chauhan..." His voice dropped, chillingly calm now, but every word dripped with venom. "You will regret hiding this from me. You've seen my love, used my ignorance, and now... now you will see my Hate." His words were cold and sharp, each one a knife to her heart. "I didn't hate you when you left me. But today, today you've given me a reason to." His face twisted in a storm of fury, betrayal, and something darker. There would be no forgiveness. No return. "You messed with the wrong man." His words were a warning, clear and deadly. "I'll make your life and your family's life a living hell. This was all because of our family rivalry right? I never interfered in it before... but now, I'll show You what a Real Rivalry looks like." Each word hit like a hammer, filled with venom, rage, and the promise of Vengeance. Shivalika's breath caught. She knew he wasn't bluffing. He would stop at nothing to make her regret everything she had done. The man who had once been the hero of someone's story had now become the villain of his own. His Love turned into Vengeance. -----×××-----
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