Drowning Love

chapter 1

Writer: This book is written when I was a teen, so it will make you close the book, and give me 2 gali but my other books are not like this, you can check them I assure you they are better.

Pihu's pov:

"Love is a wonderful feeling.But at the same time, being in love can cause us pain."

I have just returned from a visit to my grandfather the solitary person. he lives in the countrified area all alone. We asked him to come with us but he says he doesn't want to leave his hometown, his friends, and his memories with his wife that they created in their house. And we can't force him cause he doesn't listen to anyone. Dad tried convincing him a few times but sadly he failed.

"Pihu.. pihu.." Tanvi's voice filled my room as she burst in, embracing me tightly. I reciprocated the hug, patting her back gently.

"I missed you," she confessed, her eyes sparkling with joy. A warm smile spread across my face.

"I missed you too," I replied, cherishing the familiarity of her presence.

Her excitement bubbled over as she shared, "You know what? I got the job in Surat, and I'll be shifting there next Saturday."

"Congratulations! I'm so happy for you. All the best," I exclaimed, enveloping her in another heartfelt hug.

Tanvi expressed her gratitude, and then her curiosity turned to me. "What about your interview?" she inquired.

"I failed," I admitted, avoiding eye contact.

She responded with compassion, patting my back and gently cupping my cheeks. "It's okay, Pihu. You can do it next time," she reassured me. I nodded, appreciating her comforting words.

As we continued talking about various things, the depth of our connection lingered. Eventually, Tanvi bid her goodbyes and left.

Tanvi and I had shared a bond since the age of six. From being desk mates to neighbors, we navigated our educational journey together. Tanvi, with her kindness and vivacity, had become an integral part of my life. Our connection, forged through years of shared experiences, remained as strong as ever.

I decided to watch television so I went into the family sitting room. I saw mom dad was sitting there and discussing something so I decided to go back into the room but dad called me.

"Pihu baitho idhar," he demanded. My dad was a strict and religious person. We don't talk much so I understood that he wants to talk about something important.

(Pihu sit here,)

"Pihu...tumhara rishta tae kardiya hai humne mere dost ka beta hai kal aa rahe hai wo log," dad said in a usual way.

(we have fixed your marriage, he is my friends son, and tomorrow they are coming)

I was so stunned and looked at mom's face to help me but she made a sad face which made me understood she can't do anything.

I wanted to tell him that I don't want to marry so early but can't I tried opening my mouth.

"Kuch kehna hai tumhe," he asked looking at me confused.

(Do you want to say something)

"Umm..kya.. Kya meh kuch saal baad shadi kar sakti hoon abhi itni jaldi kya hai," I asked him nervously and felt so proud that I finally said what I wanted to.

(Umm... Can I marry after sometimes, what's the rush)

"Nhii, ladka acha deeri nhi karenge humlog," he said sternly. I nodded my head and went inside my room.

(Not at all, he is a good man, and we are not going to make things late,)

I burst into tears as I came inside and understood that my father will never listen to me. My mom came and hugged me caressing my back.

"Chup hoja meri bachi (Love, don't cry)," my mother said sadly, her eyes reflecting the concern etched on her face.

"Maa, aap papa ko samjhao na mujhe nahi karni shadi (Mom, please try to make dad understand this, I don't want to marry)," I pleaded through my tears.

She gently wiped away my tears, brushing my hair with her hands, and softly replied, "I can't do anything beta; you know your father."

Desperation clung to my words as I hugged her tightly, seeking solace in her comforting embrace. After a moment, she gently disengaged from the hug and left for her household chores, the weight of helplessness evident in her steps.

Alone in my room, I sought refuge in my journal. Opening it, I began to write, pouring my heart out onto the pages. The act of articulating my feelings provided a semblance of relief, a cathartic release from the emotional turmoil within. It was a ritual I had cultivated over time—writing down my thoughts whenever sadness threatened to overwhelm me.

In the intimate space of my journal, I documented my fears, desires, and the complexities of my emotions. The ink on the paper became a silent confidante, absorbing my struggles and offering a therapeutic outlet. Each entry was a testament to my resilience, a tangible reminder of my ability to navigate the stormy seas of life.

And so, as the pen danced across the pages, I found a measure of peace amidst the chaos, a small reprieve from the uncertainties that loomed ahead.

I unintentionally opened the page where my crush rejected me harshly. His sister and I were friends when we were in school she was my junior. I didn't tell him that I liked him she was the one who told him. I felt sad that now we don't talk. And after some time I slept.

***
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