Dil Hi Toh Hai ( Completed)

some missing pages from Arjun's life

Hai

Helloo

Happy reading

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Important Note

I spent a lot of time thinking about how to make this milestone of 300k views on this book even more special. I wanted to create something unique and memorable for all of you.

So here I came up with " some missing pages from Arjun's life "

Now let's begin the story

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Arjun’s POV

The night was calm, the air scented with the lingering fragrance of birthday candles and cake. The decorations still hung in the living room, balloons swaying gently as if celebrating even after the guests had left. It had been a wonderful evening—our Arvi and Aarav’s 8 th birthday. The laughter, the joy, the mess, everything was perfect.

After making sure the house was in order, I finally came to our bedroom, expecting to find Pallavi waiting for me. But what I saw instead made my heart swell with an emotion I couldn't quite name.

There they were ,, my entire world, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and love.

Pallavi lay in the center of our large bed, her hair fanned out like a midnight halo, her breathing soft and steady. On either side of her, our two lifelines, our little munchkins, were curled up, holding onto their mother as if she was their safe haven. And wasn’t she? She was mine too.

Arvi , my daughter, bilkul apni maa par gayi hai. The same stubbornness, the same soft heart hidden behind an attitude that only those close to her could see through. She was fast asleep, barely stirring even when I carefully wrapped my arm around them all.

Aarav, though ,,  he was more like me. The moment I hugged them all, he shifted slightly, scrunching his nose in disapproval.

"Papa, don’t disturb our sleep. Aap chahe toh Mumma ko hug karo, but don’t hug me while sleeping. I don’t like it that much," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

A chuckle escaped me. How could I not laugh? I had been the same way. As a child, I had hated hugs—despised them even. No one except my mother had the privilege of hugging me. And now? Now I couldn't sleep without holding Pallavi close. Life had a strange way of changing perspectives.

I brushed a gentle hand over Aarav’s hair, whispering to myself, “Beta, waqt tumhe bhi sab sikha dega.”

Tonight, my children deserved every bit of their mother’s warmth. They had spent the entire day running, laughing, cutting cakes, opening gifts, and now, they were exhausted. I had to make a small sacrifice today ,, my sleep, my usual position beside Pallavi ,, so they could have this comfort.

So instead, I moved away quietly and walked toward the window.

The city outside was still alive, the streetlights casting a golden hue over the roads, the distant honking of cars reminding me that life never truly paused. I sighed, pulling out my old leather diary—the one where I poured out my thoughts, the one Pallavi had once given me, saying, "Jab dil ki baat kisi se keh nahi sakte, toh usse likh diya karo."

I sat down near the window, flipping through the pages, each one filled with pieces of my life—our life. My fingers traced the inked words, memories flashing before my eyes like an old movie reel.

But tonight, something felt different.

A strange ache settled in my chest. It wasn’t sadness, but something close. I missed my mother. I didn't know why, but tonight, on my children’s birthday, the absence of her presence felt heavier than usual.