AARADHYA'S POV

Morning sunlight always feels different in our house. It doesn't rush in like it does in the city buildings I see near college. Here it spreads slowly, touching the neem tree in our garden first, then the stone path, then finally the veranda where I like to sit.

I sat there today too. My book rested in my lap, but I wasn't reading it properly. The pages were open, yet my mind kept wandering somewhere else. Maybe it was because the last few days had been strange. Too many things happening together

scholarship confirmation, internship confirmation, that mysterious lehenga, and that night when I fainted during garba. Even thinking about it still felt unreal.

"Pata nahi kya ho gaya tha mujhe..." I murmured quietly, turning a page I hadn't even read. Inside the house, I could hear Maa moving around in the kitchen. The sound of steel utensils clinking together was familiar and comforting.

The smell of tadka slowly drifted outside. Our home was small, but it always felt warm. Sometimes I wondered how such ordinary days suddenly started feeling... watched. I shook my head immediately. "Pagal ho rahi hu kya?" I muttered.

Just then, Maa's phone started ringing inside. The ringtone echoed through the house. "Maa... phone!" I called out loudly.

"Ha aaru dekh zara kaun hai!" she shouted back from the kitchen. I stood up and walked inside, picking up the phone from the table. Unknown number. I answered. "Hello?"

A calm elderly voice came from the other side. "Ghani khamma... Meera ji se baat kar rahi hu?" The tone was respectful but unfamiliar. For a moment I hesitated. "Ji... ek minute... Maa ko deti hu." I covered the microphone and called out,

"Maa! Aapke liye phone hai." She came out wiping her hands on her saree pallu. "Kaun hai?" she asked. "Pata nahi... koi Meera ji se baat karna chahte hai." She took the phone from my hand. "Hello... ji... Meera bol rahi hu..."

The moment she heard the voice on the other side, her expression changed slightly a little surprise, a little nervousness. Then suddenly she straightened her posture.

"Ji... maasi... khamma gani." Maasi? I looked at her, confused. She quickly walked outside into the garden while continuing the conversation. I stayed near the doorway, trying not to look like I was listening, but I couldn't help noticing her expressions through the window.

The call kept going five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes, twenty minutes. She kept talking, sometimes nodding even though the person couldn't see her, sometimes smiling softly.

And something else too a strange shine in her eyes. I couldn't explain it. Finally, after almost twenty-five minutes, she ended the call and came back inside. Her face looked... happy. Different.

I raised an eyebrow. "Maa... kaun tha?" She placed the phone on the table casually. "Shaadi ka nyota aaya hai." My eyes widened immediately. "Kiski shaadi?" "Mere mayke se," she said, smiling.

"Teri maasi ki beti ki shaadi hai." "Ohhh..." That explained the long conversation. "Lekin itni lambi baat?" I asked teasingly. She laughed softly. "Arey sab jaldi jaldi fix ho gaya hai. Isliye tayari bhi jaldi karni hai."

Then she looked at me properly. "Hame next week jaana padega." "Next week?" I repeated. "Ha. Help ke liye." I frowned. "Maa... lekin mera college?" She waved her hand dismissively.

"Leave leni padegi aaru." "Maa ek din ki leave alag hoti hai... ek hafte ki alag." "Hame sabko jaana hoga," she said firmly. "Bahut kaam hai waha." I sighed. "Maa... meri classes..." "Sab ho jayega."

She sat down beside me. "Shaadi pandrah din baad hai lekin hame ek hafta pehle jaana padega. Teyariya bahut hai." Then she added softly, "Maasi aur mausa akele kaise karenge sab?" I knew that tone.

When Maa said something like that, discussion usually ended. Still, I tried once more. "Lekin Kavya ka school?" "Uska exam khatam ho gaya hai." Of course. I nodded slowly. "Theek hai." "Bas ho gaya," she smiled, satisfied.

I walked back to my room quietly. The afternoon felt unusually silent. I sat in the balcony chair with a book again, but again I wasn't reading. My mind kept replaying Maa's conversation.

Why did she look so happy? And why did that voice on the phone feel... familiar? I tapped the book lightly against my knee. "Shayad mujhe hi lag raha hai." Sometimes our minds create patterns where none exist.

After some time my phone buzzed. Unknown number. I frowned. Again? I answered. "Hello?" Silence. I pulled the phone slightly away from my ear and checked the screen. The call was still connected. "Hello?" I said again. No reply.

A small irritation rose inside me. "Hello... kaun bol rahe hai?" Still nothing. Only quiet breathing maybe... or maybe it was just network noise. "Hello??" And suddenly the call disconnected. I stared at the screen. Call ended. "Strange..." Probably wrong number.

By evening I forgot about it. My best friend called me later. "HELLOOOO madam scholarship queen!" she shouted dramatically. I laughed. "Pagal hai kya?" "Arre tu bata! Internship confirm ho gaya??" "Haa..." "PARTYYYY!" "Party nahi milne wali," I said lazily. "Kyuuuun?"

"Kyuki mujhe next week shaadi me jaana hai." "WHAT?" And then of course the interrogation started. I told her everything about Maa's maasi, about the sudden wedding, about taking leave from college. She groaned dramatically.

"Tu wapas aayegi bhi ya wahi shaadi me settle ho jayegi?" "Chup kar," I laughed.

We talked for almost forty minutes. By the time the call ended, night had already settled outside. I stretched my arms and stood up.

"Chalo bag check kar leti hu." Tomorrow I had a long day at college. I opened my bag and started taking things out one by one books, notes, pen pouch, laptop. Then I paused. My hand froze inside the bag.

My journal. It wasn't there. I frowned. I checked again. Nothing. My heartbeat quickened slightly. "No... no..." I emptied the entire bag on my bed. Still nothing.

I stood up immediately and began searching my room study table, drawer, bedside table, balcony chair, wardrobe. Nothing. My chest tightened. My journal never left my bag. Never. I kept all my thoughts in that diary. Everything. Every little thing I couldn't say out loud.

"Where did it go..." I searched the living room the sofa, the dining table, even the kitchen shelf. "Maa... aapne meri diary dekhi?" I asked. "Kaunsi diary?" she replied while stirring something on the stove. "Meri brown wali..." "Nahi."

I went back to my room. A strange uneasiness crept into my stomach. Then a thought came. Library. Maybe I forgot it there yesterday. Yes... that must be it. I closed my eyes and tried to remember. I had been studying in the library after lunch. Maybe I packed my bag in a hurry. Maybe I left it on the table. "Ha... wahi hoga."

I exhaled slowly. "Kal subah library jaake dekh leti hu." Still, something about it didn't feel right. I sat on my bed staring at my empty bag. A small whisper of discomfort moved through my mind like someone had read pages they were never meant to see. But that was impossible. Right?

I shook my head firmly. "Overthinking mat kar aaru." Tomorrow I would check the library first. Everything would be fine. I switched off the room light and lay down. Outside, the night wind moved through the neem leaves....

ABHIMANYU'S POV

Night in the haveli has a different kind of silence. It isn't empty. It breathes. The long corridors, the thick stone walls, the carved jharokhas...

they all hold whispers of conversations that happened years ago. Sometimes when the wind passes through the courtyard, the hanging lamps sway slightly, and their shadows stretch across the floor like silent watchers.

Tonight, I sat alone in my room. The yellow lamp beside my chair cast a soft circle of light over the table in front of me. And on that table... lay her diary.

I hadn't opened it yet. My fingers rested on the leather cover, tracing the edges slowly. The brown surface was worn at the corners, like she had carried it everywhere for a long time. Of course she had. I knew that much about her already.

My phone buzzed in my hand. I picked it up without looking at the screen. "Bol." The voice on the other side immediately straightened. "Rana sa." "Haan." "Ek khabar hai." I leaned back in the chair. "Bolo." "Shehar se bahar jaane wali hai."

My fingers paused on the diary cover. "Kab?" "Next week." My eyes narrowed slightly. "Kitne din?" "Lagbhag ek hafta." Silence filled the room for a moment. "Akele?" "Nahi. Puri family." I tapped the armrest slowly. "Kaha?"

He told me the place. A slow smile spread across my face. "Achha." "Rana sa?" "Haan." "Aur koi hukam?" I looked down at the diary again. "Abhi nahi." "Ji." I cut the call.

The room fell quiet again. For a few seconds, I didn't move. I simply sat there... remembering the evening. The call. The moment her voice reached my ear. I had dialed her number myself. Just to hear it. Just once. She didn't know.

"Hello?" Her voice had sounded soft... cautious. "Hello?" I hadn't answered. I just listened. There is something strange about hearing someone who has no idea you're there.

You hear their breathing, their slight impatience, their curiosity. "Hello... kaun bol rahe hai?" I almost smiled. "Hello??" Then I ended the call.

To her, it must have felt like a wrong number. But to me... it was confirmation. Her voice. Her tone. The way she spoke. All of it settled somewhere inside my mind.

I looked down again. At the diary. Finally, I opened it.

The first page wasn't writing. It was photos. Small printed pictures pasted carefully with transparent tape. Some were of her and her sister.

Some were random scenery a temple, a sunset, a cup of chai. Next to them were stickers flowers, little hearts, stars.

I turned the page slowly. Letters. Folded pieces of paper glued into the diary. Old ones. Probably written years ago. Maybe from school friends. Maybe from family. Then came the writing.

Her handwriting was neat. Soft. Almost delicate. I read.

Today was a good day. College felt nice. Professor appreciated my project. And... my scholarship got confirmed.

My thumb paused on the edge of the page. I continued reading.

I don't know why but I feel really happy today. Maybe because things are slowly getting better. Maybe because I feel like my dreams are possible.

I turned another page. Her daily routine, written like small notes wake up, help Maa, college, library, study, come home, write in diary, sleep. Simple. Quiet. Peaceful.

My jaw tightened slightly. I kept reading. She wrote about her dreams too.

One day I want to see the sea. I want to stand near the water and watch the waves. But I think I'll also be scared. Because the ocean feels too big.

I flipped the page.

I want to see snowfall once. Real snowfall. Not in movies.

Another page. Then another. Her fears started appearing in between the lines.

I am scared of darkness. Not childish scared... but the kind where your mind starts imagining things.

I leaned forward slightly.

I am scared of the ocean. Because it feels like it can swallow everything.

Another line.

"I  am scared when someone stares too much."

"My fingers tightened on the page, Another entry. I get scared when someone speaks angrily."

A small laugh escaped me. I flipped another page, and suddenly the tone changed. The handwriting was slightly shaky.

"I remembered something today. When I was in 7th standard. One night Maa and Papa had to leave suddenly because of an emergency in the family."

"I had to stay home alone. I was so scared. The whole house felt dark and empty. I kept the lights on all night."

I leaned back slowly. So that's where it came from. Her fear of darkness. Interesting.

I continued reading. Page after page. Piece by piece, her world unfolded in front of me. Her favorite color. Her favorite dress. Her favorite ice cream. Even small things, like the way she liked sitting near windows.

Then I reached a page where she had written a heading "Future Husband."

My eyes darkened slightly. Below it she had written a list: "calm nature, no anger issues, someone who understands me, someone who never shouts, someone who never raises his hand in anger."

I closed my eyes briefly. Then I laughed softly. "Galat soch liya tumne, Aaradhya." i flipped the page. Navratri entry. She had written about the night she fainted.

I don't remember how I came home. Everything went black. When I woke up I was already in my room. Mom said someone dropped us home. But she didn't tell me who.

Next page.

Today I folded my chaniya choli from last night. It smelled like a faint cologne.

My lips curved slowly.

The same smell I remember from that day during Shivling pooja. When I fainted... and someone caught me.

Another line.

Maybe it was him again.

My eyes darkened. "Tumhare khayal kaafi saaf hai, Aaradhya."

I closed the diary halfway and leaned back in my chair. For a few seconds I simply looked at the ceiling. Then I whispered quietly, "Lekin..." A small smile formed on my lips. "Main gussa control nahi kar pata."

I looked down at the diary again. Six days. That's how long before she leaves. Six days before she walks straight into the place I already know she's going.

I closed the diary slowly. "Chhe din." My voice was calm. Cold. Certain. "Kyuki..."

I stood up and walked toward the window. Outside, the haveli courtyard lay silent under the moonlight. "Jaha tum jaane wali ho..." My reflection stared back at me from the glass. "Waha hum bhi aayenge."

For the first time that night, my voice dropped lower. Almost a whisper. "Aur iss baar..." I paused. My fingers tightened slightly against the window frame. "Aaradhya..."

I stopped myself mid-sentence. No. Not yet. Some things shouldn't be spoken too early. But one thing was already decided.

I turned away from the window, looking back at the diary resting on the table. "Tumhe apna banaye bina..." My voice was steady. "Main nahi baithne wala."

And when that happens... when she finally steps inside my world my haveli, my rules, my name, my wife...

"Jab tum meri haveli me hogi..."

The lamp flickered slightly as the wind passed through the jharokha. And my final words slipped quietly into the night

"Tab tum sirf meri hogi."

"Poore riti riwaz ke saath."