The stars in my Galaxy are drowned in tears- pihu
Pihu Sharma 23-year-old girl who is Loyal, devoted, Sensitive to feelings, and Caring and has a crush on eeshan.
Eeshan Kapoor 28-years-old young man who is arrogant, Self-confident, Inflexible, Argu...
Yesterday afternoon set in misty and cold. I had half a mind to spend on my study. Nothing was in my mind, only thoughts of tia.
I asked her to marry me but she rejected me because she wants to accomplish her dream of becoming a surgeon first.
I already know my dad has already inclined toward the girl he chose for me. I don't want to marry his pal's daughter or any other. I want to wait for tia.
On coming up from my dinner mounting the stairs with lazy intention and stepping into my parent's room I saw my dad was sitting on the Davenport reading some files.
"Kal ke liye tayari karli tumne (Have you prepared for tomorrow)," my father's voice cut through the air, a familiar expectation in his tone as he continued to sift through his files.
"Meh busy hoon, nahi aa sakta (I'm busy, I can't come)," I replied with irritation, feeling the weight of his persistent demands.
"Rehaan, tumhara kaam dekh lega, tum jaoge (Rehan will see your work; you will come)," he asserted, annoyance evident in his words.
I stared at his face in disbelief, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Despite my irritation, I bit back my words. My father, with his heart condition, warranted my respect, and it wasn't the time for confrontation. Silently, I left the room, the tension lingering in the air.
As I paced the hallway, a resolve formed within me. I needed to find a way to navigate through this unwanted path my father had set for me. The responsibility of overseeing tomorrow's affairs rested heavily on my shoulders, but a deeper conflict brewed within. I couldn't fathom being part of a decision that went against my wishes.
I needed to find a way to talk to the girl, to make her understand the gravity of the situation. My father's expectations weighed on me, but so did my own principles. This was a battle I couldn't ignore, and I was determined to fight it with grace and conviction.
***
We entered Sharma's house. It was not a too big nor too small house. One stop brought us into the family sitting room. Dad and Mr. Sharma hugged each other and the four of them exchanged little conversation while I was sitting on the sofa taking a glimpse at my phone and smiling in between when someone was looking at me.
After some time Mrs. Sharma entered with a young woman who was dangerously gorgeous. Her hair was midnight-black and it flowed over her waist and had honey-sweet lips. She had a sculpted figure which was twine-thin. Her waist was small and had a burnished complexion. A pair of arched eyebrows looked down on sweeping eyelashes. Her delicate ears framed a button nose. Her enticing, constellation-brown eyes gazed at me, and then she looked down. Not content to be just another drone, she wore vibrant clothes. She had a shy outlook.
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"Can we talk with each other alone?" I asked the elders appealingly, my eyes searching for a glimmer of understanding. The weight of their gaze bore down on me as I awaited their response.
They looked at me sternly, their eyes cold and unyielding. "Why do you need to talk?" My Dad questioned, his voice sharp and demanding.
Summoning courage, I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. "It's about my future," I declared, my voice firm. "I need to discuss something important with her."
A tense silence hung in the air as they exchanged glances, their faces revealing nothing. Finally, they nodded, and a subtle softening in their expressions granted me a small reprieve. "Very well," I said, my voice gruff.
"We will give you some privacy."
A feeling of relief washed over me as the elders acquiesced, signaling the possibility of an unfiltered conversation with her. She met my gaze, her eyes filled with curiosity.
"Pihu beta, apne room me le jao eeshan ko (Pihu, take him to your room)," Mrs. Sharma said in a soft-spoken tone. Pihu hummed in agreement, leading the way. The weight of the impending discussion rested on my shoulders as we walked towards a space where the constraints of tradition might loosen, if only for a moment.
***
Pihu's pov:
The person I'm getting engaged to is none other than Eeshan kapoor my school crush who used brutal words while rejecting me. I don't want to marry him shit... shit.. shit. I'm in a mess. He has changed much and had a smooth, spade-shaped beard with Ocean blue eyes that I always loved it and a well-built body I feel like I might sink and drown and die.
He cleared his throat- and said in a Horace, "Pihu I don't want this marriage. I have someone in my life." his voice cold and unyielding.
I felt my heart sink, my eyes filling with tears. It was like a punch to the gut, "Then why are you here?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He looked at me, his eyes full of sympathy. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice full of compassion.
I felt a little numb now,"I don't know what to say," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Should I be happy that he don't want to marry me or sad cause I got rejected the second time by him?
I couldn't believe it. After all these years, he still didn't remember me.
"Did you forget about me?" I questioned him, looking into his icy blue eyes. He looked confused and asked me, "Do I know you!?"
I felt a little hurt now, realizing that he didn't remember me. "Six years back, you rejected me," I exclaimed, my voice full of emotion.
He looked at me, his eyes full of surprise. "I'm sorry," he said, in a dead voice with no emotion. I felt dejected. "I don't remember."
I felt a little angry now, realizing that he'd forgotten about me so easily. "How could you forget?" I asked, my voice full of frustration.
He looked at me, his eyes full of confusion. "I don't know," he said, his voice full of uncertainty.
I felt a little hurt now, realizing that he didn't care enough to remember. "It doesn't matter," I said, my voice full of resignation.
"So all I want you to do is tell your father you don't want to marry me," he demanded, his tone edged with frustration.
"I can't... you tell your father you don't want to," I replied with a proud smile, refusing to succumb to his pressure.
"My father has a heart disease, I can't say no to him," he gruffed through closed teeth, his expression revealing the struggle.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear this," I muttered, a twinge of empathy softening my stance.
"Toh bol rhi ho... mana kar rhi ho na (So, are you going to tell your dad that you don't want this marriage or not)," he asked again, pressing the issue.
"Voh mai... Voh mai nahi bol sakti. I'm sorry (I...I can't)," I mumbled, torn between duty and personal desires.
"Acha tum nahi bol sakti ho because you still have a crush on me, that's the reason, right?" He angrily questioned, his words cutting through the air.
I shook my head in denial, frustrated by his assumption and rudeness. "Okay, I'll buy your lie if you say no to this shit," he growled, leaving the room in a huff.
I was left fuming, wanting to smack some sense into him. He didn't even bother to listen to me. I wanted to explain that my father's strictness made it impossible for me to initiate such conversations. If he wanted to talk to him, he could, but his stubbornness left me seething with unspoken frustrations.
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