A hearty "Padharo Mhare Des!" to all you wonderful readers, Meet our protagonist, Ruhaan Singh Rajvansh, our dashing Raana sa with a heart that echoes the valor of the great Rajput and Business acumen that remains unbeaten. And there's Meera Singhan...
मुझ को... इतना बतायें कोई कैसे तुझसे दिल न लगाये कोई रब्बा ने तुझको बनाने में कर दी है हुसैन की खाली तिजोरिया
काजल की सियाही से लिखी है तूने जाने कितने की लव स्टोरी
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"Ruhaan, are you sure?" I asked him, standing next to him. "Yeah," he said, giving a small smile. Holding hands, we headed towards Rajveer bhaiya's room, his warm hands reassuring.
Stopping at the door, I stepped aside, letting him take the lead. His hands disappeared into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, reemerging with a metallic key. As he slid it into the small lock, he met my gaze with a subtle, tight-lipped smile.
I responded with a blink, silently conveying my support. With a nudge, Ruhaan pushed the door ajar.
The door creaked open, revealing a room covered in dust.
We walked in hand in hand, and I could feel Ruhaan's tight grip. His eyes wandered around, studying every detail. The room brought back memories, especially for him.
"Ready to start?" I asked Ruhaan, offering an encouraging smile. He nodded in agreement.
We both grabbed dusting rags, and I requested Sumi Kaki to fetch a mop for us. With the tools in hand, we began the process of reviving this forgotten room.
A few days earlier, Mrs. Trisha, during one of Ruhaan's counseling sessions, suggested he confront his past. That's when we decided to unlock this room, clean it ourselves, and infuse it with positive memories.
"I'll take care of the bookshelves," Ruhaan murmured, his voice carrying a visible weight of pain, yet determination.
"Sure, I'll start by taking down these dusty curtains; they desperately need a wash," I replied, making my way toward the window.
Each corner of the room held a story, and with every wiped surface, we were not just cleaning but also preserving fragments of happiness. We were in this together.
"Look, it's his yearbook," Ruhaan said, passing me a thick book with a blue cover. As we opened the book and flipped through the pages, we finally arrived at a specific one. There, his picture adorned the page-a small, cool smile on his face as he held a trophy in his hands.
"He looks so much like you," I mentioned, comparing the features. The resemblance was uncanny, with perhaps only differences in hair color and jawline.
"I'll clean the dust off the books later, let's just set them aside for now," I suggested, and he nodded, piling the books in a corner and starting the cleaning process.
