She sat by the window, knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting gently on them, her eyes gazing blankly at the sky painted in soft amber hues of morning sun. The breeze whispered through the curtains as her thoughts ran wild and heavy.
“Zindagi bhi girgit ki tarah hoti hai... kab kaunsa rang badal le, koi keh nahi sakta.”
There was a time when she was surrounded by love—by her parents’ warm embraces, by laughter-filled evenings, by dreams that seemed within reach. And now?
Now she was just a silhouette of that girl.
All that remained were silent sobs, aching voids, cruel taunts, shattered dignity, and dreams... scattered like broken glass. Life hadn’t spared her, and fate had wounded her in places no medicine could heal.
She wasn’t living. She was just... breathing.
The only thing anchoring her to this world was Akshu—her little brother, her reason, her light in an endless tunnel.
She folded her hands and whispered in a trembling voice, tears silently rolling down her cheeks:
“Bhagwan ji... sab kuch le liya aapne. Sab kuch. Par mera Akshu mat chhena. Wo meri roshni hai... uske bina main jee nahi paungi. Please... bas usse nahi.”
“Didu?”
She was too lost in her pain to register the voice at first.
“Didu...”
She blinked slowly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, and turned.
There he was—Akshat—standing in the doorway, concern etched on his young face.
She quickly mustered a fake smile, brushing strands of hair behind her ear.
“Akshu? Tum ghar pe kya kar rahe ho is waqt? College mein hona chahiye tumhe toh?” she asked, her voice still heavy.
But Akshat didn’t answer immediately. He just kept staring at her — her swollen eyes, red nose, trembling lips. Every emotion was written clearly on her face, and he hated himself for being too helpless to erase it.
His mind echoed in silence:
“Kaise karti ho aap ye sab, didu? Itne dard ke baad bhi muskara leti ho... Sab kuch seh kar bhi mujhe dekh kar bas pyaar se muskura deti ho... Main chhota hoon, par itna bhi nahi ki aapka dard na samajh sakoon. Waqt aayega... jab main aapko is narak se le jaunga. Aapki zindagi waapis dunga... I promise.”
“Akshu!”
He jolted back to reality.
“Ha... haan didu?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
“Maine pucha tu ghar par kya kar raha hai? College kyun nahi gaya?” she repeated with a frown of concern.
“Wo... file bhool gaya tha didu. Wo hi lene aaya hoon...” he replied honestly.
She sighed and nodded, but before she could say more, Akshat hesitated again.
“Didu...”
She turned toward him. “Kya hua bacha? Tabiyat to theek hai na?” She instantly touched his forehead, worried.
Akshat caught her hand gently.
“Relax didu... I'm okay. Bas aise hi. Don't worry.”
She breathed out in relief. “Pagal... dara diya mujhe!”
But what he said next, shook her to her core.
“Didu... aapse milne... Ekaksh Singh Rathore aur unki family aayi hai...Umm....Unhone aapko neeche bulaya hai.”
The words crashed like a thunderbolt.
Mishti froze.
Her lips parted, but no words came. Her heart thudded against her ribs.
“Mujhse...? Ne..eche...? Kyun? Maine kya kiya...?” Her voice trembled as panic took over.
Akshat quickly moved closer and took her hand.
“Didu shhh... calm down. Kuch nahi hua. They just want to meet you. It’s okay. Just take a deep breath.”
He gently rubbed her back to comfort her, whispering soft reassurances.
Then, as he saw her beginning to calm down, he softly began telling her what had happened downstairs — everything except about the marriage proposal.
Her eyes widened.
Still silent. Still confused. Still in disbelief.
Akshat held her hand and said with a smile, “Didu, darna kaisa? Humne kuch galat thodi kiya hai. Bas mil kar aa jaate hain. Theek hai?”
She nodded slowly, hesitantly, and went to get ready.
✦⋆｡˚﹕﹕˚｡⋆✦
The entire Rathore family sat calmly in the living room, waiting patiently.
But one person...
...was not patient at all.
Yes. Hamare Ekaksh ji.
The man who never waited for anyone. Whose empire ran on precision. Whose anger flared even at a delayed email.
Today? He was restless.
He sat, legs bouncing, jaw clenched, checking the clock every few seconds like a child waiting for exam results.
Every second without her felt like eternity.
Shivank and Ruhi, sensing the perfect opportunity, exchanged a look and smirked. And then—mischief struck.
In soft voices, they began singing:
“Intiha ho gayi intezaar ki...
Aayi na kuch khabar mere yaar ki...”
Ekaksh narrowed his eyes.
“Kya baat hai bhai... itne bekarar to aap kabhi office ki meeting ke liye bhi nahi hue jitne bhabhi ke liye ho.” Shivank teased dramatically.
Ekaksh turned slowly toward them, his voice low and dark:
“Shut up... both of you. otherwise, you will not be able to handle consequences. Do you? "
Shivank zipped his lips instantly.
But Ruhi—the pampered, fearless sister—was not done.
“Bhai... gussa kyu ho rahe ho? Bhabhi ab aapki hi hone wali hai. Aapke paas nahi aayengi to aur kahan jayengi?” she giggled, winking.
“Ruhi... don’t—”
He stopped.
Because he heard it.
That soft sound... like silver bells in a quiet temple.
Payal.
He turned.
And there she was.
Standing at the edge of the hall, she looked like a breeze in yellow.
Her simple Anarkali suit flowed like sunlight. Tiny jhumkis danced gently with her steps. Her hair, open and long, cascaded down her back like a black waterfall. In the name of makeup, just a streak of kajal—yet it made her eyes speak volumes.
Her gaze remained down, hands clasped in front of her, her form delicate... yet unshakably dignified.
And for Ekaksh, it was as if the world slowed down.
His breath caught. His heart... stuttered.
“Uff... meri jaan...” he whispered under his breath.
And at that moment, the storm inside him settled.
His Mishti had arrived.
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