A U T H O R ' S    P O V

It was almost evening.

A soft golden hush had begun to settle over the house.

Naintara was staying in the guest room. She couldn’t bring herself to step into her old bedroom.

That room held memories she had locked away with trembling hands— memories she never wanted walking back into her life.

The guest room was different.

Quiet. Still. Safe.

She had gone to freshen up.

A little while later, the bathroom door opened and she stepped out, dressed in a soft pink outfit that looked as gentle as the evening sky.

She walked to the mirror.

Stopped.

Stared at herself.

Her reflection looked calm.

But her eyes told another story.

“Who would’ve thought…” she whispered faintly, “the place I avoided coming to every time… is the place I’m forced to stay now.”

She picked up a bottle of body lotion and sat on the edge of the bed, applying it slowly.

Absent-mindedly.

Her body was here.

But her heart… was wandering somewhere far away.

Her gaze drifted to the small idol of Krishna placed on the bedside table—the one she had carried with her.

“Krishna ji…” her voice cracked,

“Why did you bring me back here? I can’t live in this house. Every corner reminds me of someone I don’t even want to remember.”

She swallowed hard.

“I’ll stay just tonight. That’s it. I can’t do more than this. I’ll move somewhere else… to Nishi’s place… anywhere. But not here.”

She stood up abruptly, wiped her face, and walked out of the room.

Her grandfather’s room was downstairs.

Each step felt heavier than the last.

She stopped outside his door.

Closed her eyes.

Took a deep breath.

“Calm down… you can do this, Naintara.”

She pushed the door gently.

The room was dimly lit.

A warm yellow lamp glowed in one corner.

An old radio was playing softly.

A familiar ghazal floated through the silence—

sung by Ghulam Ali.

🎶 Chupke chupke raat din aansu bahana yaad hai…. 🎶 Humko ab tak aashiqui ka woh zamana yaad hai…🎶

🎶 Tujhse milte hi woh kuch bebaak ho jaana mera…..🎶Aur tera daanton mein woh ungli dabana yaad hai…🎶

The melody wrapped the room in nostalgia.

As if the walls themselves remembered love and loss.

🎶"Chori Chori ham se tum aa kar mile the jis Jagah...... Muddatein Guzarin par ab tak wo Thikaanaa yaad hai"🎶

🎶"Khench lenaa vo meraa parde kaa konaa daffaatan.... Aur Dupatte se teraa vo Moonh Chhupaanaa yaad hai"🎶

“Dadu…” Naintara called softly.

He was half-lying against the headboard, something resting in his hands.

“Dadu?”

He looked up.

And his face bloomed into a smile–

the kind that appears when something priceless returns home.

“You finally came… my child,” he said, voice trembling with joy.

His eyes shimmered.

Naintara walked to him and sat beside him on the bed.

“How is my Tara?” he asked gently, placing his palm on her cheek.

“You’re alright, aren’t you?”

Her throat tightened.

She wanted to collapse into his arms and cry –to tell him how broken she truly was.

But she forced a small smile.

“Me? I’m perfectly fine, Dadu.”

It was a lie.

A fragile one.

She felt shattered like glass inside and only she knew how she had survived these years.

She quickly wiped the tears slipping from his eyes. “What are these tears doing here? I’m back now. No more crying.”

“They’re tears of happiness,” he said softly. “Now that I’ve seen you… even if I die, I’ll go peacefully.”

“Dadu!” she protested, hugging him tightly. “Don’t talk like that. You still have so much life left.”

He smiled faintly.

“Death doesn’t ask, beta. Today I’m here… tomorrow maybe not. Your Dadi already left me alone…” He looked down at the old photo album in his hands.

Naintara frowned.

“I came after so long and you’re talking about this? If you keep saying such things, I won’t talk to you and I’ll leave again.”

He chuckled warmly.

For Naintara, her grandfather was her safest place. Her only constant.

Losing him wasn’t something she could even imagine.

Seven years had passed since her grandmother left the world. Around the same time, Naintara had left home too—carrying silence and unspoken pain with her.

“Come on,” she said gently.

“Let’s eat something. I’m hungry… and you have to take your medicine.”

She wasn’t really hungry.

But when it came to him, she never took chances.

“Alright, alright,” he smiled.

“Let’s go.”

<3

The Agnihotri Mansion looked grand and breathtaking. It was huge and beautifully designed, with white walls blended in soft mixed shades that made it look even more elegant. Outside, a lovely garden stretched wide, filled with trees and colorful flowers. A swing hung peacefully in one corner. As beautiful as it looked from the outside, the inside was twice as stunning.

A soft golden glow filled the main hall. Two staircases on either side curved upward and met at the top balcony. A magnificent chandelier sparkled from the high ceiling. In one corner stood a small, beautiful idol of Radha and Krishna, placed in a cozy temple space. Upstairs, there were several large and luxurious rooms.

The mansion was silent since it was late at night. The family had finished dinner and gone to rest.

From the hall, a passage led to the kitchen where two women were talking.

“Maa ye Rudra bhai kab tak aayenge?”

(When will Rudra bhai arrive, Mom?) Aditi asked.

She was Rudransh’s sister, sitting on a chair and eating ice cream. She was seven months pregnant.

“Itna kya jaldi tujhe? Abhi hi toh aayi hai itna lamba safar karke… Jaa kar rest kar. Subah mil lena usse aaram se.” 

(Why are you in such a hurry? You just arrived after such a long journey… Go and take rest. Meet him peacefully in the morning.)

Meera said while washing the dishes.

Aditi had come to stay at her parents’ house for a few days because she was missing them a lot.

“Nahi mujhe unse abhi hi milna hai… Fir woh subah jaldi hospital chale jaate hain.”

(No, I want to meet him right now… He leaves early for the hospital in the morning.)

She said while eating her ice cream.

“Haan baba theek hai, aaj hi mil lena. Par abhi room mein jaa. Woh aayega toh tujhe bula lungi.”

(Alright fine, meet him today. But go to your room for now. I’ll call you when he arrives.)

Meera said, finishing the dishes.

“Aur haan ice cream khane ko mili iska matlab ye nahi ki poora dabba khatam kar degi. Chal de mujhe, bohot kha liya.”

(And yes just because you got ice cream doesn’t mean you’ll finish the whole box. Give it to me, you’ve had too much.)

Aditi shook her head.

“Maa thoda sa aur kha lu, phir le lena.” (Mom, let me eat a little more, then you can take it.)

“Nahi… itna tere health ke liye achha nahi hai.” (No… this much isn’t good for your health.)  Meera said, reaching for the box.

But Aditi quickly got up from her chair and moved to the other side, clutching the ice cream protectively.

“Ye harkatein hain beta… Maa banne wali ho, par harkatein abhi bhi bacchon wali hi hain.”

(Look at these antics… You’re about to become a mother, yet you still behave like a child.)

Aditi burst into a soft giggle.

“What’s happening here?"

A voice came from the kitchen entrance.

It was Aditi's husband, Arnav Mittal.

He walked in carrying their three-year-old daughter in his arms. Aditi was about to become a mother for the second time.

"You here, beta? Did you need something?"Meera asked. (Son)

“Yes, my wifê–” he began, then quickly corrected himself. “I mean… Jhaank just woke up and was asking about her mom, so I came here.”

“Good that you’re here. Look at her—she’s not listening to me at all. I’ve been telling her to go and rest for so long. She’s grown up, but look at her childish behavior,” Meera complained, gesturing toward Aditi.

“Maa! Now you’re complaining about me to my husband?” Aditi protested.

Arnav smiled knowingly. He was used to his dramatic wife.

“Well, of course. He’s my son too. You’re not listening to me.... maybe you’ll listen to him,” Meera replied.

“Iti, aap toh paani peene ke liye neeche aayi thi na?” (Iti, you came downstairs to drink water, right?) Arnav asked.

“Haan woh… mai toh paani peene hi aayi thi, par Mumma ne mujhe ice cream khane ko de diya. Unhone hi bola kha lo.” Aditi said

(Yes… I came to drink water, but Mom gave me ice cream. She told me to eat it.)

“Maine bola?” (I said that?)

Meera frowned.

Aditi nodded innocently.

“Sharam nahi aati jhooth bolte hue?”

(Aren’t you ashamed of lying?)

“When did I lie? You gave me the ice cream—tell him you did.”

Arnav chuckled.

Little Jhaank, still half asleep, watched her mother and grandmother quietly.

“Haan, maine hi diya… par isliye diya kyunki tum mere saamne ro padi thi ki ice cream khani hai aur abhi hi chahiye.” (Yes, I gave it… but only because you almost started crying that you wanted ice cream right then.)

“Maa, aapko pata nahi ye kitni badi dramebaaz hai…”(Maa, you don’t know how dramatic she is,) Arnav said, smiling. “She told me she was going to drink water. I offered to bring it, but she refused. And now... midnight ice cream celebration.”

Meera smiled and chuckled warmly.

"Alright alright, now you handle this. I’ll call Rudransh and see where he is." She walked out of the kitchen.

A soft pause settled.

“Ab aap yahan aayengi ya mai aau, Iti?”

(Now will you come here or should I come there, Iti?) Arnav said.

Aditi shook her head stubbornly.

“Nahi aaungi. Aap meri ice cream le lenge.”

(I won’t come. You’ll take my ice cream.)

“Dad, mujhe bhi kha-nii hai ice-cleam…” (Dad, I want ice cream too…) Hearing the magical word ice cream, Jhaank’s sleepy eyes opened completely. Resting her tiny head against Arnav’s chest, she looked at him hopefully.

Arnav kissed her hair gently.

“No princess, we don’t eat ice cream at night. Those who eat it are bad girls. You’re such a good girl…. We’ll have it tomorrow, okay?" Arnav said gently.

Little Jhaank made a tiny pout… but nodded in agreement.

Aditi narrowed her eyes at him.

“Aapka matlab mai buri hu?” (You mean I’m a bad girl?) She asked with mock offense.

“Maine aisa nahi bola, baba…” (I didn’t say that, dear…) Arnav replied quickly.

Aditi said nothing. She simply turned her face away, pretending to be upset.

Arnav sighed softly… then looked at her again. He took a few slow steps closer.

“Wifey, if you wanted ice cream, you could’ve told me… I would’ve brought it to the room for you. You should be resting right now. We’ve already traveled so much today...And you’re doing this." He spoke softly while moving closer to her.

“Mujhe laga aap mana karoge…” (I thought you would refuse…) Aditi murmured quietly.

“Maine aaj tak aapko kisi cheez ke liye mana kiya hai? Aur agar kiya bhi ho toh aapke achhe ke liye kiya hoga.” (Have I ever refused you anything?And even if I did, it would’ve been for your good.)

Arnav said gently.

He was now standing right in front of her.

Close enough to see the stubbornness in her eyes… Close enough to feel her hesitation.

Little Jhaank watched them silently, her curious gaze shifting between her parents.

.

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.

.

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DINING HALL

The dining hall was wrapped in deep silence. The entire mansion had gone still for the night.

Meera sat alone at the long dining table, quietly waiting. A soft yellow light glowed above her, casting gentle shadows across the polished floor. Her hands rested in her lap, her eyes distant, lost in thoughts she couldn’t quite name.

Arnav had already taken Aditi upstairs after convincing her to rest.

Meera had called Rudransh nearly an hour ago, but a nurse answered his phone and informed her he was still busy in the OT. Since then, she had been waiting… alone.

Time passed slowly.

Sleep began to weigh on her eyelids.

Just then—

a faint sound came from the main entrance.

The door opened quietly.

Rudransh stepped inside.

It was him.

He held his white doctor’s coat loosely in one hand. His face looked drained, shoulders slightly slumped, movements slow and heavy. One look at him was enough to tell–today had been exhausting. The hospital had taken every bit of his energy.

He walked in without making noise, his steps careful and tired.

He didn’t need to ring the bell. He had his personal access pass—necessary for someone who could be called for emergencies at any hour.

He was heading straight toward the stairs when his eyes fell on the dining table.

On his mother.

A small, tired smile appeared on his lips.

“Kitni baar bola hai inko, par ye manti hi nahi…” (How many times have I told her, but she just doesn’t listen…) he muttered under his breath.

Meera had fallen asleep at the dining table, her head resting on her folded arms.

Rudransh quietly walked toward her. He pulled the chair beside her and sat down gently.

“Maa…”  he called softly.

At the sound of his voice, Meera’s eyes opened instantly. She wasn’t in deep sleep — just waiting.

“Aa gaya tu…” (You’re here…) she said, sitting up straight.

“I’ve told you not to wait for me. I get late every day… still you wait…"

Meera simply smiled.

“Kar lene de intezaar…. Jab teri biwi aa jayegi tab chhor dungi wait karna.” ( Let me wait… l’ll stop waiting once your wife comes.)

Rudransh smiled and shook his head, knowing well how eager his mother was to see him married.

“Go, freshen up quickly. I’ll heat the food till and I also need to talk to you about something important."  He nodded and walked upstairs to his room.

Meera headed toward the kitchen.

After a while, Rudransh came back downstairs.

Meera was already seated at the dining table with food.

He sat down quietly. Without saying a word, she served him.

He began eating.

“Aditi aa gayi?” (Did Aditi arrive?) he asked while eating.

“Haan…Woh toh tujhse milne ko itni betaab thi ki so hi nahi rahi thi. Badi mushkil se manaya use Arnav ne” (Yess... She was so eager to meet you that she refused to sleep. Arnav Somehow convince her. )

“Aree toh main kaun sa kahin bhaag raha hu... Subah mil sakti thi na.” (It’s not like I’m running away…She could’ve met me in the morning.) he said.

“Yes, I told her…But she knows you leave early for the hospital. Then you’re there the entire day." Meera told him

“I’ll stay back tomorrow. She’s come home after so long." He replied

Meera watched him with a soft smile. No matter what happened in life… his sisters would always remain special to him.

Rudransh finished his meal.

His mother kept looking at him quietly memorizing his tired face.

“You wanted to talk about something… what is it?"  He asked.

“Oh yes—I almost forgot,” she said.

A brief pause.

“A marriage proposal has come for you.”

Rudransh looked at her, processing the words.

As if confirming he heard right.

“Maa… you know I don’t want to get married right now–”

“This is the fifth time you’ve said that,” Meera cut in firmly.

“And this time, I’m not listening. You’re 30 already. What now—will you marry at 50? Your wife might start calling you buddha aadmi.” (old man)

Rudransh stared at her.

“I'm just 30. Why would she call me Buddha?”

“She might. Who knows?” Meera shrugged playfully.

“Maa!”

“Just meet the girl once,” she said calmly.

“If you don’t like her, it’s a different matter. I won’t force you. But at least visit their home once.”

Then her tone turned final.

“No excuses. We’re going to their house next week. That’s final. Now I’m going to sleep.... you should too.” And before he could respond, she walked away toward her room.

Rudransh remained seated.

Silent. Thoughtful.

His mind wandered.

"Relax, Rudransh,"his inner voice whispered. "When you meet her, just tell the girl directly that you don’t want to marry. Problem solved."

He nodded to himself.

Then quietly,

he rose from the table

and walked toward his room.

Sharma House

One of the guest rooms still had its lights on. Naintara was seated at the study table, the pale glow of her phone reflecting on her quiet face as she transferred money to someone.

“Aaj toh neend bhi nahi aayegi…”

She murmured to herself.

With a slow breath, she stood up and walked toward the bed. She was just about to sit when—

Knock. Knock.

She froze.

It was very late.

The whole house had gone to sleep.

Who could it be at this hour?

Moving slowly, she walked to the door, each step soft and careful.

Her fingers held the latch.

She opened it.

Sanvi stood outside.

A water jug rested in her hand.

“Bua Maa… you? At this time?” Naintara asked softly.

“That’s what I should ask,” Sanvi replied. “Why are you still awake? I was heading to my room when I saw your lights on.”

Naintara stayed silent.

Sanvi walked inside the room.

“And one more thing…”

She lifted her phone and showed the screen.

It displayed the money Naintara had transferred to her just minutes ago.

“What is this?” Sanvi asked.

“Why did you send this money?”

“For the tickets and other bookings you made,” Naintara answered calmly.

Her face held no expression...

no sadness, no happiness.

Just a quiet distance.

“How many times have I told you not to do this?” Sanvi said gently.

“I know you like managing everything on your own… but why this formality?”

This wasn’t the first time.

Whenever there were festivals or family occasions and Sanvi sent her money,

Naintara always returned it, saying she didn’t need it.

“I have my own money,” Naintara said. “You know I work part-time along with my studies.”

She had been living in Agra, working alongside college.

She never took a single rupee from her family—for her education or anything else.

“But Tara–”

“I’m very sleepy,” Naintara cut her off gently.

Without another word, she walked to the bed.

Turned off the lights.

Lay down quietly.

Sanvi stood there for a moment.

Silent.

Then she turned, walked out of the room, and closed the door softly behind her.

Under the blanket,

Naintara’s eyes were still open.

“I’ll leave this place tomorrow,”

she whispered to herself.

Slowly…

sleep found her too.

_______________________