Suvansh ROY.
"The man for whom everything should be in a professional way. The man with natural intelligence and well settled career in neuroscience research. He wasn't someone to blend in emotion but he went in the flow of emotion for her."
SHURI...
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( The chapter is unedited)
•SHURISHA•
I was meant to be killed? My father was murdered? My mother took her last breathe while giving me birth? Rajput? Chauhaan? Roy?
Please I want to die now, I can't, I can't digest all this.
“Isha, where are you lost?” My body jolted up, my gaze wandered from left to the door than at the window, sticking at the dark sky with black clouds.
Dark! Just like my fate.
“Was I meant to die?” The question arised itself inside me and I voiced it out instantly, glancing back at chachi- no, mami.
She shook her head hastily.
“Nahi bache, Galat vo log thee isme tumhari kya galti, Tum toh bas ek nanhi sii jaan thii, jo iss sab ke bich fass gyi thii, tumhara toh koi qasoor bhi nahi thaa” Her thumb brushed off the tear that escaped my right eyes. “2 khandaan ki ladai ke bich mein tum aa gyi thii vo ladai khatam karne, par kisse pata thaa, vo tumhari jaan ke dushman ban jayege” She deciphered making sure I don't misunderstood anything but I was living in misunderstanding till now.
“Ye sab mere sath hi kyu ho-" I bursted out crying in her arms.
“Shh! Rote nahi hai bache, chup bilkul” She cooed me, caressing the back of my head. Suvansh stated right 'life is not a bed roses for everyone', mine was a bed of thorns. The thorns which are making me bleed even after my every attempt to cut them off.
“Chauhaan aur Rajput khandaan mein dushmani thii, Apki mumma or papa mein nahi , aap toh unki beti ho, unhe acha lagega apko aise rota dekh ke hmm? Or apke naitik papa or Himanshi mumma, vo toh aapko vaha se bahar le aaye, unhone vada kiya thaa apke mumma papa se ki vo apko safe rakhege. Ab aap unse gussa ho jaogi toh apke mumma papa ko acha lagega kya?” I draw myself out of her hold and ran a hand on my face harshly wiping the tears off. Sniffing and blinking back the tears , I reached out for the glass of water rested on the chest of the drawer. Gulping down half of the glass, I kept it back.
“Feeling better?” She asked tenderly tugging the single hair strand veiling my face, behind the ear.
I nodded in response and a cough skipped my mouth.
“Chachi”
“Hmm” She hummed caressing my head soothingly that I almost drown in sleep.
“Who was the murderer of my Father? Who killed him?” I quired. The feeling of betrayal that someone from my own family is the murderer of my father couldn't hold me back from asking this question.
