Array
(
[text] =>
ओ मेहरबान वे
करां मैं तेरा सुक्रिया वे
ओ साहिबा वे
मरीज़-इ-इश्क़ हो गया वे
मेनू लगदी ना कोई दावा वे
मेरा रब ही है मेरा गवाह वे
हूँ तू कर मेरा फैसला वे
जो नाल तेरे ना जिया
तो जीके की करां
तेरा तेरा तेरा तेरा तेरा तेरा तेरा तेरा हुआ हाँ
आशिक़ तेरा तेरा तेरा तेरा तेरा तेरा तेरा तेरा हुआ हाँ
———————————
in the living room, it was an entirely different story.
Vivaan sat dramatically sprawled on the floor, his face twisted in exaggerated betrayal.
“yaar maine sachhii majaak main bola tha kuch bhi chalega par ye aditi to sach m mera pet jalayegi aaj…ittti saari mirchiyaa lekar baithi thi ye kitchen mai!” he complained, pointing at the kitchen like a heartbroken kitten.
“pta nahi kal bathroom main kya haal hoga mera!”
Ruhaan, lounging beside him, rolled his eyes.”chuhe tu chhup hi reh, subha to bade josh ke sath keh rha tha kuch bhi chalega.”
Then with a smug grin, he added, “ab khaiyo aditi ki special special spicy maggie.”
Vivaan scowled. “aap to chup hi raho…Ik mirch dekh ke to khud har jagah se paani tapkane lag jaate ho aaye bade mujhe bone wale.”
The group chuckled. But the laughter didn’t last.
Because in that same moment, Vivaan, who had been sitting unusually still, his face serious, suddenly spoke up.
“Prateek bhaiya… ik baat mere samajh nahi ayii”
His voice was quiet. But it cut through the noise like a knife. Everyone stilled. He looked toward the kitchen, making sure Aditi couldn’t hear him. Then, he said it-calmly, but with a tension in every word.
“Aditi ka reaction normal to nahi tha…kuch baat hai kya…??”
Silence.
“Kya matlab?” Ruhaan asked, his playfulness gone.
Vivaan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, eyes flickering with discomfort.
“vo jab uske hath se khoon nikal raha tha na to maine dekhne k liye haath badhaya tha aage ki dekhu jyada to nahi lagi pole se”He took a breath. A heavy one.
“par vo ikdam se darr gyii jaise kuch boht bura dekh liya ho…aur peeche hatt gayi mera hath jhatak ke…phir bass sorry bolker waha se bhaag gyii like main usse kuch kar dunga” A silence fell like a curtain. he again added looking at ansh”ansh bahiya ne bhi dekha tha phir vo uske peeche chale gaye”
everyone looked at ansh in confusion then understanding the situation they all again looked at prateek.
ruhaan being serious also asked prateek “ha…like uss dinn bhi jab abir aditi ko touch karne ja raha tha tab bhi usne usse patak diya tha jaise ki usne sab pehle se kar rakha ho nahii ansh.”he looked at ansh who noded in agreement and looked at prateek.
there was a whole scilence in the room for a minute Thick. Heavy. Ansh, leaning against the sofa with arms crossed, went rigid.
His jaw tightened. Because he had noticed it too.
The way Aditi always kept her arms close to herself.The way she flinched when someone’s hand brushed too close. The way she smiled too quickly when someone asked if she was okay.
It wasn’t just anxiety. It was defense. It was fear. Prateek’s face had lost its usual casual ease. His jaw clenched. His fingers curled into fists.
Shagun sat frozen on the edge of the sofa, staring blankly at the center table. Her voice came out so soft, they almost missed it.
“that was her reflex which never left her after that evening” She looked up. Eyes glossy. Voice breaking. “she still finds herself there only.”
The room stilled. Like the air itself was mourning something they hadn’t fully understood until now.
Ruhaan glanced at Vivaan-gone was the chaos, the teasing glint in his eye. the ever bubbly priya has also stopped smiling and leaned close to understand the situation.
Aman, arms resting on his knees, leaned forward. His gaze sharp, unreadable. His voice didn’t rise. But it carried weight.
“Kya hua tha, Shagun?”
Shagun sucked in a shaky breath, her eyes meeting Prateek’s. Everyone turned to Prateek now.To the brother.The protector.His shoulders sagged, like he was carrying a weight too big for his frame.
He looked toward the kitchen-where Aditi stood with a small smile, back facing them all busy boiling the maggie. And Prateek finally nodded.
“that thing took her carefree nature from her.” The silence in the living room lingered, thick with everything that had just been said.
Aditi’s past. Her trauma. And the unbearable knowledge that she had carried it alone… for so long.
Samaira stood frozen near the hallway,listening to all these starring at floor with a guilt or moreover anger. She could feel them all. Every word. Every pause. Every crack in Shagun’s voice and Prateek’s silence. And it felt like the walls had started caving in on her.
But her sisterly instincts kicked in harder than her emotions.
She spun around without a word, rushing toward her room. Her footsteps were quick, almost frantic. In seconds, she grabbed her Bluetooth headphones-the big, over-ear ones Aditi loved to steal during study sessions-and stormed back out.
The still had the tadka left to add. Aditi stood by the stove, satisfied hum. Still humming. Samaira paused in the doorway, chest heaving slightly as she watched her sister.
So much pain, hidden in such an ordinary moment. Her throat tightened, but she didn’t let the emotion show. Instead, she plastered on her usual dramatic flair.
“Tu yeh headphones pehen le.” Her voice was light-too light.
Aditi blinked, surprised. “Abhi? Kyu-“
Samaira didn’t meet her eyes, just placed the headphones gently on Aditi’s head.
“Bas. No questions. You need some background music while cooking. gaane sunte hue to achhi maggie banati hai tu”
She tapped Aditi’s playlist-old soft Hindi songs-and adjusted the volume just enough to drown out the voices from the living room.
Aditi frowned slightly, confused but compliant. She looked at Samaira, one eyebrow raised, like she was going to question her dramatic behavior-again.
“Aap thik toh hain na?” she asked, smiling.
Samaira gave a mock gasp. “Obviously! Main toh hamesha thik rehti hoon. I’m a walking miracle, you know that.”
Aditi laughed softly.
“Aur tu,” Samaira added, poking her forehead playfully, “aur thodi mirchi kam hi daalio vrna sab marr na jayee…Chuha to abhi se marr raha h tere hath main itni saari mirchiya dekh ke.”
Aditi rolled her eyes with a grin and turned back to stir the noodles. Music now buzzing gently in her ears.
Samaira didn’t leave. She leaned against the fridge, folding her arms, silently watching her sister. Just… being there.
Guarding her from the weight of that living room. Guarding her from the storm of her own past.No questions.Just presence.
Because sometimes, that’s what love looks like. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just a girl standing in a kitchen, making sure her little sister doesn’t hear the things that might break her again
Prateek’s words hung heavily in the air, slicing through the tension like a razor. His voice, usually full of energy, now sounded drained-empty, like the person who used to wear it had vanished, leaving only the echo.
“she was in 10th standard…tab vo yaha nahi rehti thi…vo dadi ke pass rehti thi Bhopal main.”
He inhaled sharply, his eyes dimming as memories clawed their way to the surface, dark and painful.
Ansh was silent, his breath shaky as Prateek continued, his hands clenched tighter as he recounted a past that none of them had ever fully known.
“Dadi ke paas rehti thi Aditi bachpan se hi…unke sath uska bond boht precious tha… wahaan ki schooling bhi better thi. Aur Dadi bhi chahti thi ki woh independent ho. Aditi Waisi thi bhi-carefree, sabke saath ghul mil jaati thi, kisi bhi chhoti cheez se khush ho jati thi. poori full of desires and boldness bhari hui thi usme”
The picture Prateek painted was of someone so completely alive. The kind of person Ansh had always imagined Aditi to be. Aditi, the carefree girl who would laugh and dance without a care in the world. The one whose lightness was contagious, who filled the room with her energy.
But then the words dropped like stones in a still pond.
“uski bass ik hi strength thi jo weakness kab bann gyii pta hi nahi chala…vo bina soche samjhe sabke upar bharosa kar leti thi aur har kisi ko apna dost bna leti thi har time dusro ke dukh ko apna dukh hi maan leti thi.”
The weight of those words hit Ansh harder than he expected. He felt the truth of it tear through his chest, raw and sharp. It made him ache in a way he couldn’t describe.
She had been trusting. She had been so… open. He couldn’t even fathom how that part of her had faded. How it had been broken.
His fingers dug into his palms, trying to hold onto something, to stay grounded. He couldn’t imagine it. He couldn’t imagine her-Aditi, with all that strength in her eyes-being this vulnerable. Being that innocent, that open to the world.
Prateek’s voice cracked as he spoke next, each word coming slower, more deliberate, as though the weight of the truth was crushing him too.
“Woh har kisiko apne dil mein jagah de deti thi… chahe wo koi bhi ho. Aur phir ek din… ek din woh hi uske saath aisa kar gaye…she never had imagined that.”
The way he spoke, like the past was a wound that had never fully healed. Ansh could feel it-Prateek’s pain seeping into his voice, like he was still living that moment. Reliving the horror of it.
“school main annual function hone wala tha to aditi dance pratice k liye late tak ruki hui thi dance room main.”
Prateek’s voice was soft-too soft, like it would break under the weight of the memory. Everyone in the room fell silent, breath caught, as though they already knew they were about to hear something they could never un-hear.
vivaan, still trying to hold onto some shred of lightness, raised a brow with an attempt at a smile. “Aditi dance karti thi?”
But Prateek didn’t return the smile.
His eyes flickered for a second, a flicker of warmth, of the past-of a memory long buried. “Bohot karti thi,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Dance main to uski jaan basti thi jab bhi kuch ho wether its happiness or sadness vo bass dance kar leti thi and that works like miracle for her.”
That was who she had been. The girl who found solace in music. Who healed herself with rhythm and movement, when words weren’t enough. Ansh could almost see her-young, carefree, spinning alone in a quiet dance room, eyes closed, trusting the world to leave her safe in her silence.
But then Prateek’s voice changed-turned to ice. “Lekin us din…” he whispered, “sab kuch badal gaya.” And just like that, the warmth shattered.
The room tensed-every breath sucked from the air. Like a storm had moved in, quiet and suffocating.
Shagun, sitting beside Priya, barely managed to speak, her hands trembling in her lap as she looked down. “there were these three guys from 12th standard Varun,Aryan and Rishi…they pretended to be good friends with her but after 2-3 weeks they started acting weird…usi ke beech main hi varun ne aditi ko prapose bhi kiya tha canteen main almost saare hi bachhe the waha…but aditi ne politely mana kar diya tha” she said looking at the foor. she paused for a moment then continued
“uske baad se hi unn teeno ka behaviour poora change hogya towards aditi…” Her voice was brittle, like glass. “Pehle sirf mazaak… phir chedna… lekin us din…they crossed their limits” She couldn’t even finish.
Vivaan stopped fidgeting. Ruhaan leaned forward, no trace of his usual smirk, his face drained of color. Even Aman, who always masked his emotions so well, couldn’t stop the frown pulling at his brows.
Ansh didn’t move. His fists, though, had clenched so tightly at his sides that the nails had dug into his palms. He didn’t even notice. His jaw locked. His throat burned.
That sentence was a blade, cutting through everything. Shagun’s voice had lost all warmth. Every word felt like it scraped against glass. ruhaan’s jaw tightened, his posture rigid.
Shagun let out a humorless, hollow chuckle-the kind that didn’t come from amusement but from the raw ache of helplessness. “us din, jab vo practice khatam kar ke wapas ja rahi thi… unhone andar ghus ke darwaza lock kar diya. almost poora school khali ho chuka tha uss time pe…. so they got the opportunity and upar se dance room soundproof tha”
The air thickened, suddenly too heavy to breathe. No one moved. No one blinked. The silence was deafening.
Even Aman, who rarely let anything show, had a flicker in his expression-something dark. Dangerous.
Shagun’s voice cracked. Her hands trembled as she clutched the edge of the cushion. “they were all three almost twice the size of aditi…she tried to be brave and shouted at them.”
Ansh inhaled sharply, his chest rising with quiet rage. His nails dug deeper into his palm-half for control, half out of guilt. He hadn’t even known her then. And yet, it felt like his own blood was screaming.
“aisa nahi hai ki she was weak at that time…usne poori koshish ki tab tak kari jab tak ki vo kuch outcome na nikaal paye” Prateek’s voice was distant now, like he wasn’t in the room anymore. “lekin vo akeli thi aur vo teen”
Ruhaan’s breathing turned sharp. His fingers trembled as he tried not to picture it-but the images forced themselves in. The girl they all knew, all loved, trapped.
“…aur jab usne chillane ki koshish kari to varun ne uska muh band kar diya aur uske dosto ne aditi ko pakad liya.”
Vihaan’s face twisted in horror. He was the youngest one there, and the image seemed too cruel for someone like him to even comprehend.
“aditi ne poora try kra unse apne aap ko chudvane ka issi chakkar main unn teeno ne usse floor pe gira diya tha”
Prateek’s voice fell into a whisper.
“Aditi ke thigh mein metal rod lagi thi… vo construction ka ek tukda tha corner mein padha hua. Aur uska sir… wooden floor pe laga, zor se. Phir kuch nahi.”
He looked down at his lap, his voice faltering completely. “Bas… woh behosh ho gayi. Pata nahi uska kitna khoon baha tha uss din…”
No one asked what happened to those boys. Because it didn’t matter. What mattered was the girl they found-unconscious, broken, bleeding.
Ansh stood frozen, his hands trembling now.The thought tore through him completely. he coudn’t even imagine th pure soul like aditi had been through this nightmare.
Prateek rubbed his face roughly, eyes bloodshot. “Do din baad hosh aaya usse. internal injuries ke sath kuch fractures bhi aye the usse.”
His voice cracked. he controlled himself from breaking down fully,”usne ankein kholte hi bola tha don’t touch me jab ki uske paas uss waqt sirf main hi tha aur koii bhi nahi”
Shagun inhaled shakily, her voice barely escaping her lips. “Agar us din guard uncle nahi aate…” Her words hung mid-air, the ‘what if’ more terrifying than any spoken truth. “…then we might have lost her completely.”
Prateek let out a bitter laugh-sharp, empty, and soaked in agony. A sound that didn’t belong to a boy his age. It belonged to someone who had seen the world at its cruelest and was still burning from it.
“Lekin asli problem uske baad shuru hui.”
Aman’s voice cut through the stillness-low, deadly calm. “Matlab?” His eyes were cold now, like a storm waiting to erupt.
Shagun’s fists clenched on her lap, her nails digging into her skin. Her voice broke with anger she hadn’t let out for a year. “School authority ne seedha aditi ko hi blame kar diya iss sab ke liye.”
Vivaan blinked, stunned, as though the words didn’t register. “Matlab?!”
Prateek scoffed, but the sound was full of devastation. “school principal ne school ki reputation k liye unn ameerzaado k baap se paisa liya aur saara blame aditi ke sar pe daal diya saying she must have sedused them”
His jaw clenched, voice trembling with helpless rage. “unhone saare cctv footages mita diye and the boys family accused aditi for faking all this”
Every word felt like a slap. Every sentence scraped over a raw wound.
Ruhaan cursed under his breath, venom laced in every syllable. He looked like he wanted to throw something, scream, punch a wall-anything to let the fury out. But all he could do was sit there, chained by the past.
“Un ladkon ke parents ne paisa aur power chala diya,” Prateek spat. “Principal ne meeting bulayi aur keh diya-that they are rich kon si ladhki nahi chahegi inse attention lena? Galti dono taraf se hoti ha. agar unhone ye sab kiya h Aditi ke sath to Aditi ne bhi to unhe ishaare diye honge that’s why they did this”
The room went still. Suffocating. No one breathed.
Shagun wiped her tears roughly, not with delicacy but with the desperation of someone who had no more softness left in her. “then they all only blamed Aditi saying Tumhe akele nahi rukna chahiye tha. and that to be in dance room”
“Aditi ke upar inquiry daal di gayi thi…” Prateek’s voice cracked now. “Disciplinary action. Warning letter. Woh jo victim thi, usko hi warning mili.gande gande se sawaal pooche. Aur woh ladke… school ke annual day pe stage pe perform kar rahe the.”
Ansh’s eyes were bloodshot, unmoving. He wasn’t blinking anymore. He was just… still. But inside, he was crumbling. Imploding
“Us waqt Dadi thi uske saath… she supported her completly,she fought for her” Prateek’s voice cracked-not just with grief, but with the pain of remembering a time that felt like another life. “Dadi hi thi jo usse samjhati thi, jo uske andar ka toota vishwas phir se jodne ki koshish karti thi. Jo kehti thi ki duniya gandi ho sakti hai… par har koi nahi hota.”
His eyes clouded, far away now, lost in memories that still bled.
” kabhi kabhi to Aditi dadi ke bina so bhi nahi paati thi raat ko aur kabhi kabhi to neend main hi chillane lag jati thi tabhi bhi dadi hi usse sambalti thi…uss time to aisa lag raha ki aditi poori tarah badal gayi hai”
He swallowed hard, his jaw trembling.
“Par phir Dadi bhi chali gayi…” He didn’t even need to finish. The silence that followed said more than words ever could.
“Heart attack. Ekdum se.” His voice had become so faint, it was barely a whisper.
He exhaled deeply, his whole chest sinking with the weight of it. “Aur Aditi… she broke completely. jaise kisi insaan main soul hi na bachi ho she couldn’t even said anything not even blinked”
A long, bitter pause.
“Ek din mein woh ladki-jo bina soche har kisi se dosti kar leti thi, har stranger ko smile pass kar deti thi-vo ab kisi se kuch nahi bolti thi…kisi ko bhi apne paas nahi aane deti thi”
Shagun was looking at floor quietly now, her hands gripping her shirt like it was the only thing anchoring her.
“Woh khana bhi theek se nhii khati thi.” Prateek’s voice lowered further. “Poore din mein sirf ek meal. Aur woh bhi sirf isliye… kyunki use dawaiya khani hoti thi jo khali pet nahi khayi jaati thi.”
“Woh baat bhi nahi karti thi kisi se. boht kam hasti thi, par aankhon mein kuch nahi hota tha. Sirf khaalipan… jaise koi andar se mar chuka ho.”
Ansh’s throat felt dry. His chest heavy. This was not fair. None of this was fair.
Shagun continued looking at prateek’s condition “Har baar koi uska haath chhoo leta… toh woh jhatak deti thi, jaise bijli lag gayi ho. Ek baar Prateek bhaiya ne hi bas mazaak mein uska haath pakda tha jaise vo hamesha karte the… aur Aditi ko panic attack aa gaya tha.”
Shagun wiped her tears with trembling fingers. “her condition became so terible after that,vo bas ik hi cheez repeat kare ja rhi thi rubbing her hands with soap continuisly ‘Hat jao… hat jao… please mujhse door raho… please don’t touch me!'”
“Saans nahi le paayi thi vo us din.” Prateek’s voice broke completely now. “Shiver kar rahi thi. Ankhon mein sirf ek darr… jaise pura past wapas aa gaya ho. Jaise har woh chehra uski aankhon ke saamne ghoom raha ho.”
Vivaan had tears rolling silently down his cheeks now. He didn’t blink. No one did.
“Aur sabse zyada…” Prateek choked. “…woh kisi pe bharosa nahi kar paayi. Na teacher, na counsellor, na hum.”
He paused. Then added, brokenly, “Kabhi kabhi toh mujh par bhi nahi.”
Ansh felt something inside him crack. Like bone snapping. He wanted to scream. Not at her. At the world. At himself. At fate.
He broke down fully. “Usne therapist par bhi trust nahi kiya. Ek line mein keh diya-‘Aapko kya pata, aap toh wahi kehoge jo sab kehte hain-ki galti meri thi.”
Silence. Heavy. Holy. Like grief had built a temple in that room. No one spoke. Because in that moment, every one of them wanted to undo what had happened.
But they couldn’t. At every adult who failed her. Every adult who stood silent when she screamed inside.
Ansh swallowed thickly, but the lump in his throat refused to go away. His chest felt like it had been cracked open, like someone had shoved broken glass inside and told him to breathe through it.
Vivaan’s voice came next-barely a breath, barely a whisper. “Aur… uska dance?” As if even asking the question felt like stepping on a grave.
Shagun looked up. Her eyes glistened, her lips curved in a sad, broken smile that had nothing but defeat behind it.
She looked away, almost ashamed to say it aloud.
“Uss din ke baad se usne ek baar bhi dance nahi kiya…” Her voice trembled. “Not even for a minute.”
Silence hit the room like a sledgehammer. Even the walls seemed to reel. Aditi. The girl who once lived to dance. She didn’t even think about it anymore. Not even in her dreams.
Ansh stared ahead, vision blurred, as the realization carved itself into his soul like a jagged scar. They hadn’t just broken her trust. They hadn’t just made her afraid of the world. They hadn’t just left her with scars and panic attacks and sleepless nights.
They had stolen the very essence of who she was. The fire in her. The rhythm in her veins. The fire in her. The rhythm in her veins. The sunlight she used to carry in her smile. Gone.
Torn out of her like a page ripped from a book and set on fire.
Ansh’s fists were shaking now, knuckles bone white. His nails were digging crescents into his palms, and he didn’t even care. His voice, when it came, was internal-a scream lodged in his chest. How dare they. How dare they take her light and call it justice?
Vivaan had tears silently running down his face now. He looked away, ashamed of the world they all lived in
A heavy silence settled over the room like a funeral shroud. No one moved. No one breathed too loudly. The truth, now out in the open, clung to the walls like smoke from a fire long extinguished-burnt, bitter, and choking.
Priya was the first to speak. Her voice was barely a whisper, her lips trembling as though even forming the words physically hurt her.
“Aur yeh sab… usne kabhi bataya bhi nahi?” She looked toward the kitchen, toward the soft clatter of dishes and the faint hum of Samaira’s voice-like a fragile illusion of normalcy amidst a storm.
“Itni takleef seh rahi thi… aur hume pata tak nahi chala?” Her eyes welled up, tears clinging stubbornly to her lashes. She clutched the end of the cusion, knuckles white.
Shagun’s eyes were red now, filled with unspoken guilt and fury, not just at the world but at herself. Her nails dug into her palm.
“Usne kabhi kisi ko nahi bataya, Priya.” Her voice cracked, raw and bitter.
“Kyuki jab usne bola tha, tab kisi ne suna nahi. Toh ab woh bolna hi nahi chahti.” She turned her face slightly away, her jaw trembling.
Vivaan felt something deep in his gut twist-like an anchor had dropped inside him. The puzzle pieces that had never made sense before suddenly clicked into place, sharp-edged and bleeding.
But now? Now, realization hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from his lungs.
“She wasn’t flinching from me,” he whispered hoarsely, as if speaking it aloud made it worse. “She was flinching from the memory. From that room. From those hands.”
His throat went dry. His voice wavered. “Isiliye woh touch se itni dar gayi thi…” The words spilled out like broken glass. “Isiliye woh kisi pe aasani se bharosa nahi karti…”
Ansh’s jaw clenched, so tight it ached. But he couldn’t move. His eyes had gone blank, the fury boiling in his blood now overpowered by something else-something worse. Helplessness.
He had always watched her from a distance. Admired her quirks, her quiet strength. The way she smiled without ever really smiling with her eyes.
Now he knew why. She wasn’t just a mystery-she was surviving something no one ever should have to.
Ruhaan ran a trembling hand through his hair, fingers tugging harshly at the strands like he was trying to pull the fury out of his skull. His jaw was clenched so tight it hurt, a ticking muscle betraying just how close he was to snapping.
Gone was the boy who joked too much. Gone was the loud, chaotic friend who always broke tension with humor. In his place stood someone else. Someone darker. Someone dangerous.
His fists clenched at his sides, trembling. His knuckles were white. His voice, when it came, was low-so low it vibrated with the kind of fury that made people take a step back.
“Agar kabhi woh saale mere saamne aa gaye na…” He exhaled, ragged and shaking.
“Mai unka chehra bhi pehchaan lun, toh apne haathon se tod dunga. Har. Ek. Haddi.”
No one said anything. Because no one doubted he meant it.
Ansh sat still-eerily still-like a statue carved out of marble and rage. His back was rigid. His eyes, usually clear and sharp, now brimmed with shadows. He inhaled sharply through his nose, trying to ground himself.
He wanted to scream. Wanted to break something. Wanted to swear vengeance so loud the world would hear it. But he didn’t.
Because unlike Ruhaan, Ansh didn’t have the luxury of rage. He didn’t get to fall apart. He was the head boy. The disciplined one. The restrained one. The one people turned to.
So instead, he curled his fingers into fists so tight, his nails sliced into his own skin. The sting kept him tethered, kept him from getting up and putting his fist through the nearest wall.
Or someone’s face.
But inside?Inside, a storm howled.A brutal, unrelenting storm that threatened to tear through his ribs and rip the world apart.He felt nauseous. Physically ill.
The girl who laughed like the world couldn’t touch her.Who walked like she was fine.Who acted like nothing had ever broken her.And she had been carrying this?
Ansh’s throat burned.His heart thudded so loud, it echoed in his ears.He saw her now-every moment in the past crashing into him with devastating clarity.
The way she tensed up if someone came too close. The way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. The way she always sat near exits.The way she never danced when music played.
All of it.Right in front of him.And he hadn’t seen it.He had failed her.
“You failed her,” his mind whispered again, cruel and relentless.But he shoved the thought away-violently. Like it burned.
Now wasn’t the time for guilt.Now wasn’t the time to wallow.Now was the time to protect her.To fight.To become the wall between her and the world that had once hurt her.So that no one-no one-would ever touch her shadow again, let alone her soul.
Aman’s voice shattered the silence like a stone through glass.
Low. Firm. And painfully honest.
“Prateek, us waqt tum wahaan nahi the. Samajh sakta hoon…”He paused, his eyes burning with an intensity that silenced the room.
“Par ab?”His voice grew sharper, slicing through the air. “Ab kya kar rahe ho? Aditi ko samajhne ki koshish ki? Ya sirf uski khamoshi ko haar maan liya tumne?”
Prateek’s shoulders slumped.He didn’t flinch-but his eyes gave him away. Guilt flickered there, quiet and relentless.
He exhaled shakily, the weight of Aditi’s silence heavy on his conscience.”Mai koshish karta hoon bhaiya, par Woh sabko door karti hai.”
His voice cracked, softer now. More vulnerable. “Mujhe lagta hai… kahi na kahi uska bharosa humse bhi uth chuka hai.”
And there it was.The ache of a brother who wanted to be enough-but wasn’t.The helplessness of knowing that he had once been her whole world, and now… now he was just another locked door she wouldn’t open.
Shagun’s head snapped up.She looked at him-really looked at him-and shook her head, eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Nahi.”Her voice trembled, but her conviction didn’t.
“Woh trust karti hai, bhaiya. Bas dikhati nahi. Uske trust karne ka tarika alag hai.”Everyone went still.
Shagun took a breath, her voice thick with emotion. “Aapne dekha hai na… kaise woh bina kuch bole apna khayal rakhne lagti hai? Jaise sabko yeh dikhana hai ki she’s okay… even when she’s not.”
She turned to Priya, her voice softening. “Ya jab tum ya Vivaan sad hote ho, toh bina kuch kahe woh tum dono ko funny memes bhejti hai… ya random reels jo usse pata hai tumhe pasand aayengi.”
Priya’s lips trembled as she nodded, a lump forming in her throat. She remembered those reels. The silly memes. The quiet ways Aditi had always shown up-never loud, never demanding, but always there.
Shagun’s voice grew more fragile now, her words laced with grief. “Woh care karti hai… har ek apne insaan se.”
Her hands trembled as she wiped her cheek, eyes fixed on the kitchen, where Aditi’s soft humming barely drifted through the door. “Bas usne yeh seekh liya hai ki dard baantne se kuch nahi milta… sirf aur dard milta hai. Aur zyada log disappoint karte hain.”
Prateek looked away, jaw clenched.He felt it.The sting of truth.That while he had waited for her to come to him, she had been holding herself together with broken fingers.And he’d missed it.
“Usne sab kuch andhar daba liya, kyunki jab usne sabse pehli baar dard baantna chaha… tab duniya ne usi ko blame kar diya.”Shagun’s whisper was barely audible. “Toh us din se, usne bolna chhod diya.”
Vivaan wiped his face silently.Aman exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face, steadying himself. And Prateek?
He closed his eyes.Because in that moment, he wasn’t just Aditi’s brother.He was the boy who’d once promised her he’d always protect her. And now he was staring down the weight of a promise he hadn’t kept.
Ansh’s eyes softened as he stared at the barely visible silhouette of Aditi in the kitchen.
She was laughing softly at something Samaira said-quiet, guarded, but real.
And in that fragile smile… he saw it.A girl who had mastered the art of pretending.
Of laughing without feeling, of breathing without living.A girl who had once screamed for help in silence, and when no one heard her- She stopped screaming.
His chest ached. “She thought no one would listen. No one would understand.”
His thoughts whispered, each word like a knife turning deeper.”She thought she was alone.”
But she wasn’t.Not anymore.And she never would be again.
Vivaan’s voice broke through the silence, harsher than usual, as he ran a hand through his messy hair.
“Toh ab kya karein?”His voice cracked under the weight of helplessness.”Usse kaise batayein ki woh akeli nahi hai?”He wasn’t asking for answers.He was begging for one.
Shagun turned to look at the kitchen, where Samaira was standing with Aditi-arms gently moving as they stirred something, shoulders brushing occasionally.No questions. No pity. Just presence.
She smiled faintly, her eyes misty. “Jaisa Samaira didi kar rahi hai.”
Her voice was soft, but carried a quiet strength.
“Uske saath rehkar. Usse yeh mehsoos karake ki chahe woh kahe ya na kahe…” A tear slipped down her cheek, but she kept going. “Hum hamesha uske saath khade hain. Har pal. Har dard mein.”
Silence followed. But it wasn’t empty. It was heavy-with love, with guilt, with an aching desire to hold Aditi so tight that the pieces stopped falling apart.
Ansh swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on the kitchen door like it was the only thing holding him together. Aditi, with her quiet strength. Her haunted eyes. Her stubborn heart.She didn’t even know the storm she had survived.
And yet… she stood.Still fighting.Still breathing.Still trying.
The room that was echoing with laughter just minutes ago had now sunk into a silence so heavy, it felt like the walls themselves were mourning.
Not a word.Not a whisper.Just the weight of truth-raw, cruel, and unbearable.
Everyone sat frozen, as if time had pressed pause.As if even breathing would dishonor what they had just heard.
And Ansh…Ansh hadn’t moved at all. Moments ago, he had been laughing on vivaan’s tantics and blushing about earlier conversation with aditi.
Now? He was… empty.His face showed nothing. But his eyes-they screamed.
They were fixed on the kitchen.On the door that separated her from the truth being spoken out here.On the girl who had once danced like the world couldn’t touch her-Who now flinched at the sound of footsteps behind her.
He didn’t blink.Didn’t breathe.His fists remained limp, yet his entire body was taut, like a dam about to break.
Inside, a storm was shredding him apart.
“She suffered that. Alone. While we laughed around her.”
“While I thought she was fine.”
He clenched his jaw, a sharp pain shooting through his temple.His mind was screaming How.How did someone like Aditi-his Aditi-go through something like that and still manage to smile?Still help others?Still exist?
And the worst part?
He had never seen it.Never looked hard enough.Never asked the right questions.And now-he felt like a traitor in her story.
He wanted to scream.To destroy something.To take every ounce of pain she had and wear it like a crown just so she wouldn’t have to.
But all he could do was sit there-silent, motionless, broken.As if her trauma had stitched itself into every corner of the room.
As if the truth had turned them all into mirrors-each one reflecting their failure to protect her.And just beyond that kitchen door, the girl they all admired…Was simply stirring noodles.Unaware of the storm her silence had unleashed.
*******************
That’s all for this chapter thank you so much for reading! 💫
If you enjoyed the chapter, please do leave a vote and drop a comment your support means the world and keeps the chaos going!
Until next time, stay safe, stay healthy, keep smiling, and as always… keep reading. 📖✨
With love,
Prachi 💌
[text_hash] => e9383a31
)