"If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were."
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"I saw this girl at the age of 13, and among all the memories of that year, the best I remember is being absolutely crazy about her. B...
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Parth's POV
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As I turned to Keerti, her enigmatic expression left me curious.
With a sly gesture, she pointed to the left side of my chest. Following her cue, my eyes landed on the intricate mehandi design from Sharvi’s hand, forming the unmistakable shape of the letter S, right where my heart beat.
The letter S!
"I am so sorry," I heard Sharvi speak, her voice laced with regret. "Your kurta got spoiled. I didn't mean for this to happen.”
My eyes moved to her hand, the once intricate mehandi pattern now marred.
Regret washed over me instantly.
Damn! I should have been careful.
I responded, "No, why are you apologising? It's my fault. Even your mehndi got spoiled."
I remembered her expressing her love for applying mehandi just moments ago in a conversation with someone.
And my regret deepened!
I saw the mehandi artist beside Sharvi and asked her for a solution. She advised Sharvi to wash it off swiftly, promising to reapply the same design in the same spot. It wouldn't be flawless, but it would suffice.
As Sharvi followed the instructions, Keerti leaned in and whispered, "People get that letter written by mehandi on their hands; you directly got it on your heart. Not bad!”
I glanced at her smirking face and muttered, "Foolish," before making my exit.
Once in my room, I took off the kurta and examined it.
