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एक खोया-खोया चाँद था,
जो था ख़फ़ा-ख़फ़ा
एक टूटा-टूटा ख़ाब था,
जो तुझ से था जुड़ा
एक आधी-आधी आस थी,
जो पूरी हो गई
तुम मिल गए तो
जाने क्यूँ ये दूरी हो गई
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vote: 60+
coments: 40+
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It was their final morning in Rishikesh. The trip that had felt like an escape, like a warm, reckless pause from reality, had now come to its inevitable end.
Inside the girls’ room, the air was still. The floor was littered with half-zipped bags, scattered scarves, and empty wrappers from late-night snacks they hadn’t even bothered to throw away. Aditi, dressed in a soft light-pink kurti that looked even gentler under the morning light, sat by the bed, folding her clothes in silence. There was no expression on her face-no smile, no frown-just a practiced calm that Priya and Shagun had seen too many times to be fooled by.
Samaira had left earlier to check on the others, leaving the three of them behind in this little bubble of unspoken things.
And then-Priya’s voice pierced the silence. “Sunn… tujhe nahii lagta… kal jo bhaiya ne gana gaya vo tere liye gaya tha?”
Aditi didn’t respond right away. Her fingers froze for the smallest second. She seemed lost, distant, as if she hadn’t heard it clearly. Or maybe she had, and just didn’t want to admit she had.
“Kaunse bhaiya ne gaya?”Her voice, when it came, was soft, almost vague.
Shagun and Priya exchanged a flat look. The kind people share when they’ve reached the end of their patience with someone who’s being willfully clueless.
“Ansh bhaiya ne aur kisne… nalayak,” Shagun huffed, tossing a dupatta into her suitcase with a dramatic flair, as if to snap Aditi out of her trance.
Aditi blinked, slowly, her gaze flicking between them as if finally registering their expressions-wide-eyed and silently hopeful.
But instead of answering, she shrugged. A bare shrug that seemed to say what’s the big deal?
“Gana hi to tha… wahi yaad hoga unko,” she said simply, zipping up the side of her suitcase.
Priya groaned and smacked her forehead. Shagun followed suit, both of them reacting like they’d just witnessed a historic moment of missed signals.
“Tu na rehne hi de… hum hi pagal hai… chal Shagun,” Priya muttered as she stood.
“Arey par maine kiya kya?” Aditi blinked again, offended.
“Tu kuch kar hi to nahii rahi hai…” Shagun bit back, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
“Matlab?” Aditi frowned, a little taken aback by the sharpness in their tone.
“Tujhe zara sa bhi nahii lagta… ki Ansh bhaiya likes you?”Priya turned, hands on her hips, expression fierce.
The question landed like a stone in the middle of Aditi’s chest.
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Her fingers hovered over the zip of her toiletry pouch, motionless. Inside her head, a thousand fragments of memories flashed in an instant-Ansh’s voice wrapping around lyrics like they meant something more, his eyes on her through firelight, the softness with which he’d looked at her even when she couldn’t look at herself. And every time he’d stood beside her when no one else knew how.
And yet… she swallowed the tremor in her chest.
“Why would he even like a girl like me?” she whispered, almost too softly. Her fingers gripped the zip tightly as she finally closed her suitcase, the sound loud in the silence.
“Kyu? Kya kami hai tere mein?” Shagun snapped, voice rising in disbelief.
Aditi shook her head slowly, not in denial but in a quiet ache.
“It’s not like that… why would a perfect guy like him, who is perfect at everything, ever like a girl like me who is…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but the pain in her voice did it for her.
It was the kind of sentence that didn’t need words. The kind you said with your eyes lowered, your throat tight, and the weight of past bruises pressing down on your confidence.
That was when Shagun and Priya softened.
“It’s not like that, Aditi. We’re just saying ki-“Priya stepped forward, her tone gentler now.
But Aditi cut her off with a shaky laugh, one that barely passed for genuine.
“Nevermind yaar… tum log sach mein bohot zyada soch lete ho.” She tried to smile, waving it off like it didn’t matter. Like her heart hadn’t just cracked a little.
“Chalo ab varna didi marne daudegi agar late hue to.”She stood up, tugged her suitcase upright, and added with practiced ease.
Without another word, she rolled her suitcase toward the door, leaving behind that little storm of words hanging in the air.
Out in the corridor, the others were already gathering.
Ruhaan and Prateek were pulling their bags along, while Ansh stood by the door with the room card in hand, locking it carefully. His posture was composed, shoulders steady-but his eyes drifted once toward the hallway, catching sight of her as she stepped out.
Ruhaan was the first to break the morning tension.
“Hi, good morning,” he chimed brightly to Shagun.
She rolled her eyes. “Morning,” she said curtly.
“Sunaii nahii diya… kuch bola tumne?” Ruhaan teased, leaning in with his ear.
And Shagun, ever the menace when she wanted to be, grabbed his ear and shouted into it,
“MORNING!!”
“Ahhh! Behra nahii hoon yaar main!” Ruhaan stumbled back dramatically, rubbing his ear as laughter erupted from all sides.
Prateek approached Aditi’s suitcase and gave it a little tug to test the weight.
“Abe… aadha Rishikesh bhar liya kya tune isme?” he joked.
Aditi smirked. “Nahi… kuch bhara hi nahin abhi tak. Bhar du bata?”
“Nahi itna hi kaafi hai… chal,” he muttered, already dragging it.
Ruhaan turned to Shagun again, rubbing his poor ear.
“Main tumhara bag utha lu?” he offered with a cheeky grin.
“Ha kyu nahi… ye lo,” Shagun replied sweetly, handing it over.
The moment Ruhaan grabbed it, he nearly toppled to the ground under its weight.
“Kya hua… bhaari hai kya?” she asked innocently.
“Nahi… nahi, it’s fine,” he huffed, recovering his pride as giggles circled around him.
Finally, Ansh approached quietly, picked up Priya’s suitcase with ease, and looked toward the group.
“To chalein?” he asked.
Everyone nodded and began walking toward the lift.But Aditi… didn’t meet his eyes.
Because her heart was still tangled in the doubt that maybe… just maybe… everything he did was just his nature. That maybe he would’ve done it for anyone. That maybe-it wasn’t her.
She kept her head down, quietly walking beside the others, as Ansh walked a step behind-his eyes flicking to her every now and then, but never calling her out. Never forcing her to turn around.
And even though they didn’t speak… both of them were thinking the same thing.
The journey back had begun, and with it came a subtle, collective silence-the kind that usually follows the end of something unexpectedly beautiful.
Everyone had returned to their designated seats in the cars, just the way they had come. Windows were slightly fogged from the morning dew, and the elders had made a quiet executive decision to skip the overpriced hotel breakfast in favor of a local roadside dhaba along the way.
An hour down the mountain roads, the cars halted outside a small, rustic dhaba nestled between towering trees and snow-brushed hills. The view was breathtaking,mountains draped in green and white, a cold breeze scented with earth and pine, and soft sunrays filtering through the mist like gentle fingers waking the land.
As everyone got out, jackets were zipped and shawls were wrapped tight. The cold was crisp, but not biting-just enough to make you feel alive.
Aditi stepped out last, quietly pulling her still-damp hair up into a loose bun with a clutch clip. Strands curled around her face as the wind played with them. She looked sleepy, half-lost in the haze of the morning.
They all gathered around two long tables under a tin shade, pushing chairs and teasing each other in soft, sleepy voices while placing their order-chai, Maggi, samosas, and pakoras. Nothing fancy. Everything comforting.
“Yrr khana de do koi jaldi se, bhook lag rahi hai,” Priya whined, rubbing her hands for warmth.
“Hnn, pet mein chuhe kood rahe hain,” Shagun muttered, hugging her shawl tighter.
“Jhooth kyu bol rahi hai? Main kab tere pet pe kooda?” Vivaan asked dramatically, visibly offended as he looked at her.
“Abe… muhavara bola hai usne, gadhe.”Ruhaan rolled his eyes and smacked the back of Vivaan’s head lightly.
Across the table, Aditi was curled up on the chair, head tilted down, eyes closed, arms hugged around herself inside her shawl. She looked utterly content in her own world.
“Yaha bhi so rahi hai tu?” Prateek asked, staring at her like she’d committed a crime.
She barely responded-just gave a lazy nod, lips barely moving.
Samaira, still recovering from the sleepless packing and exhaustion, didn’t hold back. She marched over, grabbing Aditi by the shoulders and sitting her up with the strength only a big sister could possess.
“Uth ja chal. Raat mein hume to sone nahi deti tu, aur khud yaha pe so rahi hai?”
“Yrr didi… sone do na.”Aditi groaned in annoyance, blinking sleepily, her face scrunching like a grumpy cat.
She snuggled deeper into her shawl, folding her legs up onto the chair, curling into herself like a soft ball of warmth. The others chuckled.
“Kitna soti hai tu… Adu, itna sona sehat ke liye accha nahi hota,” Samaira said again, half-sighing.
“Koi nahi,” Aditi mumbled, eyes still closed.
And then-calm, gentle, and unexpected-came Ansh’s voice from across the table.
“Sone dijiye na, didi…” he said softly, not looking at anyone in particular.
Aditi smiled instantly-still in half-sleep, still eyes closed-but that tiny smile bloomed on her face like morning light creeping in through curtains. Her fingers curled a little tighter around the shawl.
Ruhaan and Vivaan immediately exchanged smirks at Ansh’s response, while Priya and Shagun leaned into each other, whispering god-knows-what with matching glints in their eyes.
“Haan…bhaiya ne bola hai sone do isko,” Priya muttered just loud enough for Shagun to hear, eyes twinkling.
“Tujhe pata bhi hai, 24 ghante mein se 12 ghante bas sone mein bitaati hai ye Kumbhkaran,” Prateek commented sarcastically towards Ansh.
“Aur tu jo 18 ghante Shizuka ko tadta hai… maine kuch bola?”Aditi cracked an eye open and smirked lazily.
A beat. Then-laughter. Pure, warm, unfiltered laughter echoed across the tables as everyone burst into giggles. Even the uncles sitting near the counter turned to glance, smiling at the joyful energy this young group had brought with them.
Moments later, their food began arriving-steaming chai in kulhads, hot Maggi in steel bowls, golden samosas with green chutney, and fresh, crunchy pakoras that smelled like nostalgia and monsoon. The hot aroma filled the air, melting away the cold.
The table, which was bickering seconds ago, now turned into a battlefield of greedy hands reaching for samosas and slurping Maggi. Napkins were forgotten. Elegance was dead. Hunger was real.
Vivaan snatched the last pakora from Ruhaan’s plate; Ruhaan retaliated by stealing his samosa. Aditi, still sleepy, reached for her bowl of Maggi while Prateek protected his own like a dragon guarding treasure.
For a while, they forgot everything-forgot the goodbye that waited at the end of the road, forgot the weight of the past, forgot their doubts, their fears, and even the tears they’d shared over the last few days.
Everyone had just finished eating, fingers still warm from the chai and the lingering spice of fresh pakoras when they stood up from the long benches outside the dhaba. Laughter still echoed faintly in the air as they prepared to return to the cars. A few zipped up their jackets, others stretched after the hearty meal.
But then Priya paused, her gaze drawn to the far end, across the dusty roadside near a cluster of banyan trees.
“Waha pe itni bheed kyun hai?” she asked, squinting slightly.
Shagun followed her line of sight and furrowed her brows, curiosity catching hold. “Haan… vo sab ek jagah pe kyu jamma ho rakhe hain?”
Aditi glanced up briefly and shrugged, her voice casual. “Kya pata. Shayd koi stall hoga ya kuch pooja wagairah.”
But Priya was already turning on her heel. “Chalo poochte hain. Pata to chale.”
The others followed her back toward the dhaba entrance, where an elderly woman-likely the dhaba’s owner-was folding clean napkins behind the counter.
“Aunty, wo saamne itna crowd kyu hai?” Shagun asked politely.
The old woman looked up and smiled softly, turning her eyes toward the far-off spot like it held something sacred in her memory. “Arey beta, vo to Radha Rani ka chhota sa mandir hai.”
Their gazes shifted beyond the trees, where the faint shape of a small white-washed concrete structure stood, framed with marigold garlands and a soft flicker of diyas, even in daylight. Radha ji’s idol was placed beneath a canopy, surrounded by hundreds of vibrant red-and-yellow kalavas and tiny colored chits fluttering from the walls like prayers caught mid-air.
“Jab humne yahaan apna stall lagaya tha… lagbhag 20 saal pehle,” a voice added from behind.
An old man-probably her husband-had joined them now, his face lined but kind, and his eyes gleaming with warmth.
“Tabhi humne unka sthapna kii thi. Tab se log yahan aate hain… apne mann ki baat, apni prarthana chits par likh kar kalava se baandh dete hain. Kahte hain… Radha Rani sabki sun leti hain.”
Ansh stepped forward slightly, genuinely intrigued. “To ye jo chits latki hain… yeh sab logon ki prarthnayein hain?”
The old man nodded. “Haan beta. Har ek chit ek arzi hoti hai. Log apne dukh, apni ichchha, apni dua… sab likh ke Radha ji ko samarpit karte hain. Jab tak woh chit wahan baandhi rahe, kehte hain unki baat Radha ji tak zaroor pahuchti hai. Aur kabhi kisi ki sunvayi adhoori nahi chhodi unhone.”
There was a gentle stillness that followed his words, one that settled deep in the bones of everyone listening.
“Sacch mein hota hai aisa?” Samaira asked softly, almost to herself.
The old lady smiled again, her hands resting gently on the counter.”Chaho to khud azma ke dekh lo, beti. Mandir sabka hota hai. Mann se likhna, mann se maangna.”
Samaira exchanged a look with the others, then nodded slowly.”Chalo… ham bhi chalte hain.”
“Tum sab jao, main chachaji ko inform kar deta hoon.” Aman offered, already heading toward the parking area.
The rest of them began crossing the road, their steps quiet, something reverent hanging in the air. The loud chatter had faded. Each of them, now slowly walking toward the mandir, wore a different expression-some curious, some contemplative, others thoughtful, as if suddenly reminded of the weight they carried in their hearts.
The crowd wasn’t large, but it moved with respect. Locals and travelers stood barefoot, some heads bowed in prayer, some tying their chits onto the thin wires lining the whitewashed walls. A soft bell tinkled somewhere in the distance.
The closer they got, the more serene it felt-like the air itself held something divine. As they stood in line to take the small pieces of paper and red thread from the basket near the priest, silence fell among them again.
The wind brushed softly through Aditi’s shawl as she looked around, noticing the layers and layers of wishes wrapped around every beam, every nail of the temple.
Unspoken fears. Untold desires. Buried pain. Hope. It was all here.
Each of them took a chit, a pen, and found a quiet corner-some standing, some crouching on the temple steps.
One by one, they stepped closer to the small mandir, where Radha Rani’s murti stood-peaceful, gentle, divine. Her eyes seemed to hold a thousand silent blessings, and the scent of incense mixed with the distant rustle of trees. The air felt sacred.
They took turns kneeling on the stone floor, scribbling down what they couldn’t say aloud-what only Radha Rani could hear.
Prateek didn’t write immediately.
He stood still before the idol of Radha Rani, his eyes heavy with thoughts that weighed more than words, as if the divine herself waited for his silence to speak first.
His fingers trembled slightly as he finally started to write:
“Protect them Radha ji. All of them. I’ve seen Aditi rise, fall, and rise again. I’ve seen my friends go through their storms.
But there’s one person I can’t stop thinking about… one person whose smile makes even my worst days feel okay.
Radha ji… please. Let Priya be in my destiny. Main nahi jaanta kaise kehna hai yeh sab… but I love her. Bahut zyada. Shayad jitna khud se bhi kabhi nahi kiya.
Bas usse khush rakhna. Agar kabhi zindagi mujhe itna laayak samjhe… to uske saath khade rehne ka haq dena. Par agar nahi… toh bhi uski khushi kabhi kam na ho.”
He stared at the words for a moment, heart thudding quietly in his chest – every syllable soaked in honesty he hadn’t allowed himself to feel until now.
With a deep breath, he folded the chit slowly, like it held something sacred. And as he tied it on the wooden lattice, his eyes stung with unshed tears.
Priya sat down on the cold stone floor, folding her knees gently beneath her. She took a deep breath, pulled the small paper from her pocket, and began to write. Neatly. Carefully. Like every word mattered
“Thank you, Radha Rani ji, for the people in my life. Meri family… mere doston ke liye-jo mera poora sansaar hain. Please unka dhyaan rakhna. Hamesha.”
And then… Her hand trembled slightly as she started the next line.
“Aur agar aap sun rahi hain… toh ek chhoti si request aur hai. Let Prateek get everything he deserves. Success. Khushiyan. Sab kuch.”
“Aur… agar zyada nahi maang rahi hoon toh… mujhe unke saath rehne ka moka dena.”
“Nahi bhi mila… toh bas itna kaafi hoga ki main unhe door se hi dekh saku, unhe khush dekh saku.”
Her pen slowed as she wrote the last line-so quiet, so delicate, it felt like a whisper from her heart.A shy smile curved on her lips as she folded the chit, her fingers lingering over the last line for a second longer.
Then gently, she tied it beside the others-its corner fluttering slightly in the temple breeze.
Aman crouched quietly before the temple. The murmurs of the others had faded into the background, leaving only the sound of bells chiming gently and the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.
He glanced once at the deity-eyes calm, composed, almost reverent-then looked down at the small slip of paper in his hand.
With a breath that held the weight of too many words never spoken, he began to write. His handwriting was slow, almost careful, as if the page could feel every emotion etched into it.
I won’t ask for much Radha ji. Just the safety of those I love. Their peace, their joy, their laughter.
Especially… her.
Please protect Samaira. She argues like a storm, but she still manages to carry the weight of the whole world like it’s nothing. Let her find her own peace.
And if… by your grace… she’s meant to be in my destiny- Toh bas ek chhoti si guzarish hai… please don’t take her away from me. Not this time. please.
He stared at the last line for a moment, then slowly folded the chit, his thumb brushing over the crease like it could somehow seal the wish inside.
With silent steps, he walked to the sacred railing strung with dozens of hopes before his and tied his chit there-tighter than needed, like letting go too easily would undo everything he’d just written.
Samaira stood quietly before the idol of Radha Rani, her hands folded, eyes lifted-not in urgency, but with a kind of reverence that came from somewhere deeper than routine.
And then, slowly, she picked up the small chit of paper and began to write.
Thank you Radha ji. For the people who make this life worth living. For giving me people who fight with me… and still stand by me.
Please keep them safe. Maa-baba. Prateek.Aditi.She’s stronger than she knows-but even the strongest deserve to rest. To be protected.
And… there’s one more thing. Just one more.
Please…Aman ka khayal rakhna. He acts like he’s fine-like nothing touches him. But I know that look. I know what hiding feels like.
Let him find his peace. Let him stop punishing himself. Let him never feel alone again. Kabhi bhi nahi. And if you ever have to test him again-just… give him someone to stand with. Not someone perfect. Just someone who won’t leave.
Her fingers paused at the end of the paper. She stared at the words, then gently folded the chit-pressing the crease with more care than needed.
As she tied it to the railing, her hands trembled faintly-not from fear, but from the weight of everything she’d finally allowed herself to say.
Ruhaan didn’t say anything aloud. He just sat there quietly-chit clutched between his fingers, gaze lost somewhere beyond the temple courtyard. The sounds around him faded, the murmur of people praying, the soft rustle of the Ganga breeze, even the faint temple bells.
All that remained was the weight in his chest… and her name etched behind his eyes. The only name he had never said aloud in a prayer. Until now.
Slowly, he bent over the paper, the pen trembling just slightly in his hand. His handwriting came out small, uneven, like the words were shy to leave his heart.
Please..Protect her. That’s all I ask. Let Shagun be happy-even if it’s not with me. Let her smile like she used to before the world gave her reasons not to. Let someone love her-not half-heartedly, not conditionally-but the way she’s meant to be loved.
Let her never cry the way I’ve seen her cry. Let someone hold her like she’s the most precious thing in the world.
Aur agar ho sake… Toh mujhe itni himmat dena ki main usey door se pyaar kar saku-bina haq ke, bina shikayat ke. And… let me keep loving her quietly, from wherever I stand.
He stared at the words for a long second.
Then folded the chit carefully, like it was something sacred-a part of him he was offering up to the universe. He tied it gently, almost reverently, to the thread-covered tree beside the temple, where hundreds of silent wishes already lived.
Shagun sat cross-legged near the sacred tree, the soft threads tied by countless others fluttering in the breeze like little prayers caught midair.
A pen in hand, a folded chit in the other. Then she began to write, slowly… deliberately. Each word stitched with meaning.
Thank you, Radha Rani ji. For the laughter. For the chaos that feels like belonging. For these people who didn’t ask for explanations… but stayed anyway.
I used to think home died with my mother. But now, I know better. I’ve found home. And maybe, in some strange, beautiful way… I’ve found myself again. So thank you-for giving me a family I never thought I’d have again.
She paused. Her fingers trembled slightly. And then she wrote the next part with a gentle ache that only she and the skies above would understand.
Aur ek chhoti si request hai… Please help Ruhaan find someone. Someone who sees through his jokes, who matches his chaos. Someone who will love him the way he deserves-without games, without confusion, without fear.
Usse khush rakhna. Woh deserve karta hai. Bohot zyada. And… if you’re still listening… Help me find the one I’m looking for too.
Ansh knelt down slowly, the cold stone floor grounding him as the breeze danced softly around the temple courtyard. The paper in his hand fluttered slightly, much like his heart-restless, uncertain. He held the pen still for a long moment, staring at the blank chit as if it carried the weight of everything he’d never dared to say.
And then… he began to write.
Radha Rani ji… thank you. Truly. I never believed in fate. Never believed in love. I always thought it was all a distraction, a weakness. But then she came into my life… and suddenly, everything I believed started falling apart.
I don’t want anything for myself. Bas ek hi prarthna hai, please keep her safe. Protect her smile. Give her the kind of happiness this world often forgets to give people like her.
If there’s any pain meant for her… mujhe de dena. Let me carry it instead.
She doesn’t know it… maybe she never will. But she has become my prayer.
I promise you,…main hamesha uska saath dunga. Whether she sees me or not. Whether she ever feels the same or not. I’ll stand by her, protect her, fight for her… silently, faithfully.
Thank you, Radha Rani ji… for bringing her into my world.
He let out a long breath, chest aching with the truth he had finally put into words. Carefully, reverently, he tied the chit to the sacred wall-his hands trembling slightly, as if sealing not just a prayer, but a vow.
As he stood up and looked at the divine idol of Radha Rani once more, his eyes held something between devotion and desperation.
“Usse khush rakhna,” he whispered under his breath.
“Baaki sab… main sambhaal lunga.”
Aditi sat cross-legged before the temple wall, her shawl cocooned tightly around her as if trying to hold in all the emotions swirling inside her chest. Her fingers gripped the pen with hesitation, and for a few moments, she just stared at the blank chit in her lap, the edges already soft from her trembling hands.
Her eyes burned-but not from sadness alone. It was the ache of gratitude… of fear… of silent prayers that had waited too long to be spoken.
And finally, she wrote.
Radha Rani ji… thank you. Truly, from the bottom of my heart.
Thank you for giving me these people. For sending them into my life when I had nothing but silence. Jab sab kuch andhera lagta tha, aapne mujhe roshni bheji. Inke roop mein.
They made me feel seen. They reminded me what home feels like. What warmth feels like. What love, in its purest, quietest form… feels like.
Please… in sabko hamesha khush rakhna. Keep them safe. Healthy. Far away from the kind of pain I’ve known. Far away from the nights that don’t end and the memories that don’t fade.
Aur ek aur baat… Ansh ke liye bhi. He’s… kind. Too kind. He deserves everything beautiful. Someone whole. Someone who can laugh without flinching and love without fear. Someone who isn’t still putting themselves back together piece by piece.
Please, give him that. A better version of everything I could never be. Just… keep him happy.
Her lips quivered as she finished the last line, blinking fast to stop the tears from falling. She folded the chit slowly, like it was something sacred, and tied it to the wall with trembling hands.
Vivaan stared at the blank chit like it might bite him. He scratched his head, chewed the end of the pen, and rewrote the beginning three times-crossing out every version that sounded too silly, too dramatic, or too much like… well, him.
But then he took a breath, looked up at Radha Rani’s calm, knowing face, and began again-this time honestly.
Radha Rani ji… pata nahii aap aise logon ki sunte ho ya nahii jo zyada serious nahii rehte. But today, I really mean what I’m writing. Dil se.
Please keep my friends safe.
They’re more than just people I hang out with. They’re… home. Especially Aditi. Bohot kuch jhela hai usne, aur phir bhi… she laughs like she’s never been hurt. Please make sure she never has to hide her pain again.
And Ansh bhaiya… Honestly, maine kabhi kisi ko itna silently fall karte hue nahii dekha. He won’t say it, and she won’t believe it…
but please, thoda magic dikhaiye na. Bas un dono ko ek dusre tak le jaiye somehow. They belong with each other. Even if they don’t know it yet.
Aur agar aapke paas thoda sa jagah ho meri wish ke liye bhi… Can I have someone too?
Koi jo meri bakwaas pe hansi aaye, lekin mujhe seriously bhi le. Someone who doesn’t just laugh at my jokes… but sees me. Really sees me.
Once. Just once maybe?
He let out a quiet sniff, blinking quickly and rubbing his sleeve over his eyes-trying to pretend the wind had kicked up some dust.
And then, with hands far gentler than usual, he tied his chit to the wall, whispering under his breath, “Aap toh sab jaanti ho na, Radha Rani ji? Toh thoda toh sun hi logi.”
The usual mischief in his eyes was missing when he stepped back…replaced by something softer, more hopeful-something even he rarely let the world see.
As they tied the last of their chits and stepped back from the sacred wall, the wind picked up ever so slightly-gentle, almost like a blessing brushing past them. The small bells hanging at the temple’s edge swayed faintly, their chime soft but soulful, echoing against the quiet hills around.
One by one, each of them walked up to the small platform where the old priest had begun offering tilak and prasad.
Aditi bowed her head as the priest placed a warm tilak on her forehead. She took the prasad with both hands-folded, grateful. Beside her, Ansh stood silently, his face unreadable but his eyes soft, lowering respectfully as the vermillion touched his skin.
Vivaan, surprisingly quiet, muttered a soft “Thank you,” when the prasad was placed in his palm, covering it quickly as if protecting a secret. Samaira gently covered her head with her dupatta, her eyes misted but steady. Aman stood beside her, glancing at her just once before bowing his head for the tilak too-silent, but sincere.
Ruhaan, smiled faintly as the priest offered him the prasad. Shagun, still quiet from the moment, looked up at Radha Rani’s idol one last time, her lips parting in a silent prayer no one heard.
Priya’s eyes lingered a little longer on the idol, as if she wasn’t ready to walk away yet. And Prateek… he just looked at the wall of chits, then at her, his fingers tightening slightly around the prasad in his hand.
They stood together for a long moment-no one rushing to leave, no one speaking-just watching the little temple as if trying to hold onto the peace it offered for a moment more.
Then, slowly, they turned to leave.
Their heads still covered, tilak glowing faintly on their foreheads, they walked back down the path. Each of them carried something unseen now-not just the prasad in their palms, but wishes whispered, promises made, hearts a little fuller… and something divine stitched softly into the spaces between them.
As night fell and the final stretch of their trip ended, the tired but content group began reaching their respective homes. The first stop was the Singhania residence, where the cars, passengers, and all the sleepy chaos were realigned. Kiran and Kirti insisted Ruhaan stay over for one more night, much to his dramatic delight and exaggerated sigh of relief. Meanwhile, the Mishras dropped Shagun at their own house, deciding it was too late for her to head home alone. She didn’t argue maybe because Aditi had already half-dragged her inside like a clingy koala.
Back in his room, Ansh had just stepped out of the shower. Dressed in his soft white t-shirt and lowers, his hair still damp and messy from the towel, he looked effortlessly striking. There was something serene in the way the fabric clung to him, casual yet precise like even exhaustion couldn’t take away his quiet intensity.
He picked up his phone lazily to check any missed messages when a notification blinked on the screen: “New WhatsApp Group: DHOLAKPUR 🏡🐒”
His brows arched. What the hell… He clicked it open.
Right next to him, Ruhaan was already sprawled across his bed like it was his own, in a sleeveless gym vest, texting furiously with his annoying-but-hilarious giggles filling the room.
The screen was buzzing with chaos:
Samaira: Koi iss group ko leave nahi karega. 😤 Jisne bhi kiya, uski fielding set karva dungi main.
Priya: Par didi… isme hai kaun kaun?
Samaira: Ham sab hi hain bas. Family of Dholakpur officially .
Shagun: To sab log zara hii karke apna apna naam bhej do ek ek baari. 🙏🏼
Vivaan: Kyu? Sabko hi bolegi? 😏
Shagun: Nahi, number save karna hai… mere pass bas hamare hi hai.
Ruhaan: Hellooooooo! Main Ruhaan… save kar lena mera number with a heart okkk? ❤️😉
Shagun: 🙄
Priya: Inka to hamesha kat hi jaata hai 😩
Prateek: I’m Prateek.
Shagun: Done ✅
Ansh: Ansh this side.
Shagun: Ok bhaiya… done ✅
Samaira: Aman kahaan hai guyss? 🤨
Aman: Yahi hu devi ji.
Samaira: To msg kyun nahi kar rahe…?
Aman: Ok sorry… I’m Aman guyss 😅
Shagun: Ok bhaiya… done ✅
Priya: Aditi kahaan hai guys? Seen bhi nahi kiya messages? 😐
And then came the moment that made Ansh pause.
Shagun: Yeh dekho… yahan busy hai yeh madam 😂
📸 [Photo sent]
The picture was of Aditi, fast asleep beside Shagun, sprawled across her like she was a human-sized panda cub. One leg thrown over, one arm across Shagun’s chest, her face buried and eyes shut in the deepest, most content sleep imaginable. The sight melted Ansh’s expression into something only he would understand. A smile tugged at the edge of his lips.
God… she sleeps like she’s claiming someone. Like she doesn’t want to let go.
Prateek: He bhagwaan!! Phir phail gayi yeh? 😩
Shagun: Haan bhaiya, bohot bhaari hai iska pair 😩😂
Ruhaan: Saare maze to Aditi ke hain bhai… meri Shagun ke saath cuddle kar sakti hai vo aur mujhe yahan iss bhondu ke saath sona pad raha hai 😭
Vivaan: To aap mere paas aa jao na meri darling 😘 bade dinn ho gaye
Ruhaan: Hatt tharkulle 🤮
Samaira: Ruhaan izzat bacha le apni is choohe se 😂🐀
Ruhaan: Haan didi raksha karo meri 🥺
Ansh chuckled, still staring at the photo for a moment too long. She looked so peaceful… so innocent. Like nothing in the world could ever touch her here. And maybe, he silently thought, if Radha Rani was still listening… nothing ever would.
Soon, as the chat slowed and yawns took over, one by one, their phones fell silent. A hush descended across the group, not just in their respective homes but in the digital chaos too. They had returned perhaps a little more connected, a little more healed.
____________________
The next morning in the Singhania household was a gentle hum of activity. Ruhaan was hurriedly packing his duffel bag, pulling clothes with practiced ease he had to rejoin his football academy for the upcoming inter-state competitions.
Across the room, Ansh sat at his study desk, fully immersed in his NDA lectures. His brows were furrowed in focus, pen gliding across the notebook as the soft audio of the lecture echoed through his earphones. The room carried the quiet rhythm of a regular morning the sound of clothes being folded, the faint rustle of pages, and the low shuffle of movement.
And then, the door flung open.
Like a mini-storm, Vivaan, Priya, and Aman barged in, cracking the calm atmosphere into a playful mess.
“Aur meri darling… mere bina aa gayi neend kal apko?” Vivaan teased dramatically, throwing a flying kiss toward Ruhaan who simply snorted without looking up.
Priya stepped forward more cautiously, her voice gentler than usual. “Bhaiya… are you free right now?”
Ansh paused the video, removing his earphones. He turned in his chair, surprised by her tone. “Haan bolo… kuch kaam hai?” he asked softly, picking up his water bottle for a quick sip.
“Vo actually bhaiya… ik question poochna tha,” she said, glancing nervously at the boys.
“Haan poochho,” he nodded, mid-sip.
“By any chance… do you have… crush on Aditi?”
He choked on his water instantly.
Ruhaan couldn’t hold back the snicker that escaped, half-turning to hide his face in his bag. “Whatt—” Ansh gasped, wiping his mouth, horrified by the direct ambush.
“Bhai… pooch rahi h tu Aditi ko like karta hai ki nahii?” Ruhaan added shamelessly, grinning ear to ear.
“Tu bade daant dikha raha h… tu hi bata de… har waqt to chipka rehta hai isse tu,” Aman quipped as he slung an arm around Ruhaan, squeezing his shoulder.
“Main kya hi bataun bhaiya yaar,” Ruhaan replied with a dramatic sigh, burying his face in his tshirt’s sleeve.
“Yahi ki bhaiya ko Aditi pasand aa gayi hai,” Vivaan said slyly, eyes glinting as he stared at Ansh, who had now turned a deep shade of crimson, lips parted in silent shock.
“Are pasand kya… yeh toh…” Ruhaan began, but Ansh cut him off sharply.
“Chup ho ja. Tujhe tere football ki kasam.” The urgency in Ansh’s voice was enough to make Ruhaan shut up mid-sentence, though he grinned like he’d already won.
Priya walked up, sitting at the edge of his bed. “Bhaiya, bata dijiye na… aap Aditi ko like karte hain ya nahin?” she asked, eyes wide with both curiosity and concern.
“Nahi Priya, aisa kuch nahi hai, tum…” Ansh began defensively, but Vivaan cut him off like a hammer on glass.
“Oh bhaiya please… aapse jhoot bola nahi jaata na, toh mat hi bola kijiye,” he said flatly, crossing his arms.
“Haan bol de zara ki tu usse like nahi karta, phir dekh main kya karta hoon tera,” Aman added, sounding half-warning, half-teasing.
“Bol de na… teri hi toh behen pooch rahi hai,” Ruhaan chimed in, his face the picture of mock innocence.
“Kya hi bolenge yeh… shakal hi bata rahi hai, poore doob gaye hain yeh uske pyaar mein,” Vivaan said dramatically, inspecting Ansh up and down as if he were a lovesick patient.
Priya sighed in disappointment, folding her arms. “Batao… ek yeh hai jo bol nahi rahe, aur ek woh, aankhon se andhi… na use dikh raha hai na yeh bolna chahte hain.”
Ruhaan picked up his bag and stood tall, smirking like the cat who had seen it all. “Arey karta hai yeh usse like… like kya, pyaar karta hai usse… bas bolne se darta hai.”
He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out like he had dropped a mic.
The room went quiet. Priya turned to Ansh again. “Was that true, bhaiya?” Her voice was low.
Ansh didn’t say a word for a second. He just rubbed the back of his neck, a soft, bashful smile tugging at his lips. And then, he gave the tiniest nod.
“Awww… so cute,” Vivaan teased, clutching his chest dramatically.
“Kab se pasand karta hai usse?” Aman asked curiously.
“Vo… school ke pehle din se,” Ansh admitted, cheeks flushed.
Before the moment could turn heavier, Aman’s phone rang. He checked the screen and sighed. Samaira. He stood up, mouthing a quick “Sorry” before Priya could speak.
“Jaiye jaiye,” Priya said teasingly, waving him off as he stepped out to take the call.
Vivaan leaned closer, grinning wide. “Batao… yeh haal hai in mahashay ka. Itna time ho gaya aur bata ab rahe hain.”
Priya, however, didn’t look amused. Her face had a strange mix of frustration and sadness. “Dikkat yeh nahi hai ki yeh ab accept kar rahe hain… dikkat iss cheez ki hai ki Aditi sab dekh kar bhi andekha kar rahi hai because she thinks she doesn’t deserve him.”
Ansh’s smile faded. His brows furrowed.
“Toh ab kya karenge?” Vivaan asked, now looking serious.
Priya’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Ruk tu… mere paas mast idea hai.”
She turned to Ansh, tapping his shoulder confidently. “Aap tension mat lo bhaiya. Aapka aur Aditi ka milan hum karayenge.”
And just like that, she walked out like a soldier with a mission, Vivaan trailing behind her, leaving Ansh in the room, equal parts nervous… and hopeful.
_____________________
That afternoon, Priya’s plan was already in motion.
She had texted Aditi and Shagun to come over under the perfectly innocent excuse of “holiday homework completion,” making it sound like a productive group study session. Aditi, being the ever-responsible student, agreed instantly, especially when Priya mentioned biology and Shagun being there. And well, Shagun could never say no to Priya.
By 4 PM, the Singhania living room had turned into a chaos station. Open notebooks, scattered pens, half-done worksheets, and a few too many snack wrappers littered the space. Vivaan was already lying flat on the floor, pencil in mouth, staring at his physics worksheet like it was written in Greek.
“I’m telling you, this question is emotionally attacking me,” he whined.
“Vivaan, tu 4th question pe adhe ghante se hai,” Shagun said, flicking his forehead as she settled beside him with her chemistry notes.
“Because this question is just senseless,” he replied dramatically, earning an eye-roll from both girls.
Aditi and Priya sat cross-legged on the rug with their biology books in front of them, highlighting diagrams and filling out labelled structures.
“Biology toh ho jayegi,” Priya said confidently, passing Aditi a pencil. “par physics ka kya karein…” she trailed off, a little too obviously.
Shagun glanced up. “Let’s do physics together later na? Hum sab weak hain usme.”
“Ya… but we do need help with it,” Priya said, glancing sneakily towards the hallway.
“Should we call Ruhaan bhaiya aur prateek bhaiya?” Aditi offered sweetly.
Priya and Vivaan exchanged a look.
“Umm, Ruhaan bhaiya toh academy challe gaye na,” Priya said, pretending to suddenly remember.
“aur prateek bhaiya to maths achhi karte hai…But Ansh bhaiya is upstairs,” Vivaan added casually. “He’s good at physics.”
Shagun gave him a hopefull look. “ha ye sahi hai…ham chemistry aur bio karte hain phir bhaiya se physics samajh lenge”
“ha ik ghante mai bhaiya free bhi ho jayenge,” he replied excietedly.
After nearly an hour and a half of continuous, rigorous problem-solving, the entire gang looked like they had been through a battlefield. Vivaan had already changed more than a hundred positions, yet had barely managed to solve ten numericals of chemistry. He was sprawled on the carpet now, arm flung over his eyes as if he had lost the will to live. Shagun, on the other hand, looked completely wiped out, her eyes red, posture slumped, her pen dangling from her fingers. Priya was trying her best to keep her eyes open, blinking repeatedly and holding her head to stay alert.
Amidst this wreckage, Aditi was the only one still functioning with full focus. She casually picked up a pencil, twisted her hair into a quick bun, and dove right back into the biology worksheets, completely immersed in concentration.
As Ansh descended the stairs, he paused at the bottom step, taking in the chaotic scene unfolding in the living room. His lips curled into a soft chuckle as he crossed his arms.
“Tum log jang lad rahe ho ya homework complete kar rahe ho?” he teased.
Aditi looked up at him from her notes, eyes steady, but said nothing. The others, however, were far more dramatic in their response.
“Jang lad rahe hain bhaiya… thodi help karva do aap bhi,” Vivaan said, now sitting cross-legged like a child begging for candy, hope glimmering in his tired eyes.
“Haan bhaiya, physics samjha dijiye na,” Priya added, flashing her best puppy-eyed expression.
Ansh sighed with a smile, completely amused. “Ok… khol ke rakho, main 5 min mein aata hoon,” he said, turning back for a moment before heading to grab his notes.
Within ten minutes, everyone had settled a bit more, their notebooks open as Ansh joined them on the floor. He began explaining the physics questions, his voice calm and steady, and to everyone’s surprise, he was especially patient with Vivaan, probably because Vivaan looked like a kicked puppy.
“Par X kyun aaya yaha?” Vivaan asked, genuinely confused.
“Because we have let it to be X,” Ansh explained patiently.
“Toh phir ye kyun aaya?” Vivaan blinked again, scratching his head.
Before Ansh could reply, Aditi spoke up, unable to take it anymore. “Abe… bhondu… yaha pe minus sign hai toh isme ye add karenge toh yahi aayega na.”
Vivaan gave her an “oooh” face, as if she had just revealed the secret to the universe.
“Exactly,” Ansh nodded approvingly.
“Ok, now solve the next one… it’s the same as this one,” he instructed, pointing toward the worksheet.
Everyone obediently bent over their notebooks again, pretending to write, but clearly, most of them had no clue how to solve it. Their pens hovered uselessly above the paper, and beneath the silence, an unspoken war had begun, a war of eyes and glances, trying to decide who would be the sacrificial lamb to ask the next doubt.
“Tu pooch,” Vivaan silently motioned to Priya.
She shot him a look. “Already 3 baar pooch liya tha maine.” Her eyes quickly shifted to Shagun. “Shagun tu pooch.”
“Pagal hai kya?” Shagun motioned back. “Jab samjhaya tha unhone tab toh so rahi thi main… ab kis muh se poochu?”
Now they all turned toward the only one left Aditi. She was still intensely studying the question, squinting at it like the page would suddenly whisper the answer to her.
Priya nudged her.
Aditi glanced up, confused. “Kya hua?”
“Bhaiya se ye wala question pooch le yaar,” Priya whispered.
“Main kyu poochu? Tum log poocho na,” Aditi whispered back, her brows knitting together.
“Hum already 10 baar pooch chuke hain… don’t you think he’ll scold us?” Shagun whispered in panic.
“Pooch le na yaar… chocolate dunga… promise,” Vivaan practically pleaded, his hands folded like he was asking for divine intervention.
Aditi sighed, defeated. Her eyes lifted hesitantly toward Ansh, who was busy marking something in his textbook. When he looked up and caught her gaze, he noticed the softness in her eyes, a nervous, almost frightened look like she thought he might snap at her.
“Any problem?” he asked, voice calm, completely unbothered.
Before she could respond, Priya jumped in. “Haan bhaiya, vo… isko ye wala question samajh nahi aaya tha. Aap ek baar aur samjha do isse?”
Aditi threw her a murderous look, but Ansh simply nodded and moved closer toward her.
“Kaha pe dikkat hai?” he asked, crouching beside her.
“Vo yaha pe…” she pointed at a particular step on the sheet, her voice lower than usual.
Ansh leaned in slightly, his tone turning softer as he started explaining. She kept her eyes on the paper, trying to hide the nervous flutter in her chest, but slowly, as the solution unfolded, her fingers relaxed and her face lit up.
“Bass… itna hi karna tha isme?” she asked, looking at him with an innocent smile, joy radiating from her eyes.
“Haan… bass itna hi tha,” he nodded, his own lips curling into a smile as he found himself lost in her happiness. That one smile from her made every moment worthwhile.
But of course, their peace was short-lived.
“Bata bata kaise hua?” Vivaan suddenly interrupted, practically pushing himself between them to peek at her notebook.
Aditi giggled a little and pulled away. “Ruk, main samjhaati hoon… dekh.” She got up with her notebook and walked toward the others, ready to explain.
Ansh watched her go, a little dazed, a little amused, and for a split second, he wished moments like these didn’t have to end so soon.
After weeks of online lethargy, the school had finally reopened, but only for classes 10th, 11th, and 12th. Extra academic classes were being conducted to help the senior students bridge the gaps in their studies.
The younger gang Vivaan, Priya, Aditi, Shagun, weren’t exactly thrilled. Despite it being just half-day classes, their collective mood was that of betrayal.
According to them, if the school had to open, it should’ve been fully open. Why only the senior classes? Why not call the rest of the school too and share the pain?
But alas, they had no choice. With their elder siblings being overly dedicated, especially people like Ansh and Prateek, skipping wasn’t even an option.
Physics period was in full swing when Vivaan’s mind drifted again. The equations on the board looked more like alien hieroglyphics, and the droning voice of the teacher sounded like a lullaby. His eyes wandered toward the window the sunny world outside, birds, trees, clouds suddenly looked far more appealing than force diagrams and pulley block systems.
“Vivaan! Eyes on the board, not outside! Out of the class… now!” the teacher snapped.
With zero guilt and a mild shrug, Vivaan casually strolled out of the room. He didn’t even bother faking shame.
The empty corridors greeted him like an old friend. Hands in pockets, he began roaming around like he owned the place peeking into classes, humming under his breath, occasionally waving at random kids like some lost celebrity.
But just as he turned near the senior wing corridor, his steps slowed. Someone caught his eye. Someone who…didn’t quite belong there. Vivaan narrowed his eyes.
A girl. Slender frame, dressed in the same uniform as theirs, but…she wasn’t from their batch. He had never seen her before, which was weird, considering Vivaan knew practically everyone in school, including the staffroom aunties and the peon’s dog.
She was walking briskly, glancing over her shoulder once, then turning towards the old store room.
Vivaan’s eyes widened. The store room? Seriously? That place is basically the Bermuda Triangle of our school. Even teachers avoid it after sixth period.
Vivaan tiptoed closer to the old storeroom, his curiosity piqued by the mysterious girl who had disappeared behind the rusty door. Students were rarely allowed near this area, and no one ever voluntarily came here, it was dusty, half-abandoned, and home to broken lab tables and discarded props from school plays.
He pushed the creaky door open slightly, peeking inside. “Yahi to aayi thi… kahaan gayi ye?” he murmured, scanning the dimly lit room with narrowed eyes.
Suddenly…
Something cold and solid pressed against the back of his head. He froze.
“Why the hell are you following me?” a sharp voice rang out from behind, low but fierce.
Vivaan stiffened. “listen… main ghoom raha tha bas—”
“shhhh! Move even an inch and I swear—”
“Arre rod to hataa pehle! chubh raha hai!” Vivaan snapped, turning slightly.
And then their eyes met.
“youuuuuuuuuhhhhhh” they both screamed at the same time, the rod clattered to the floor.
“TUMmmmm?!” the girl echoed, pointing the rod at him again like a sword.
“You again?! Why is it always you in places where peace should exist?!” Vivaan barked.
“I should be asking you that! Tumne follow kiya tha mujhe? are you the crepy Stalker?!” she shot back.
“Main stalker?! hadd hai bhai… mere school m tum ghusi ho main tumhare school mai nahi” vivaan shot back.
She rolled her eyes, lowering the rod. “haa kyu nahii tum hi to chala rhe ho na ye school,dasvi fail.”
Vivaan groaned. “i’ve passed 10th okk?!”
Before she could fire back, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the corridor heavy, angry, teacher-like footsteps.
“Kaun hai wahan?!” came the sharp voice of Mr. Dubey, the strictest staff member in school.
Both their eyes widened.
“Shit! mar gaye!” Vivaan muttered under his breath.
Without wasting another second, the girl grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind an old wooden cupboard stacked with broken lab stools and rolled-up charts. The room was dusty, cramped, and in that moment was very claustrophobic.
They pressed close together, almost nose to nose. Vivaan’s back hit the wall and for a moment, everything just paused.
His breath hitched slightly as he stared straight into her eyes not annoyed, not angry this time just… stuck. Her lashes flickered, confused, but then narrowed as she caught that look on his face.
______________________________
that’s all for this chapter…agar boring laga ho to uske liye dil se sorry…
hope you have enjoyed it…
jaldi jaldi vote count 60+ kara do then mast vivaan ka bhi scene set karva dungii….
thankyou for reading and don’t forget to follow me on scrollstack for early updates I’D mentioned in bio.
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