चलो इक बार फिर से अजनबी बन जाएँ हम दोनों

न मैं तुम से कोई उम्मीद रखूँ दिल-नवाज़ी की
न तुम मेरी तरफ़ देखो ग़लत-अंदाज़ नज़रों से
न मेरे दिल की धड़कन लड़खड़ाए मेरी बातों से
न ज़ाहिर हो तुम्हारी कश्मकश का राज़ नज़रों से

Vote Target - 7.3k
Comments - 7k

I've decided to increase the vote target for chapters, and I want to share why. Earlier, I kept the targets the same to keep things simple because the book was about to end, but now it's time for the book to grow so please co-operate.

Let me also share the current ages of the characters as we continue their journey:

Arav and Ritika: 26 years old

Shashwat, Reyansh, and Akash: 25 years old

Siya, Arushi, and Richa: 24 years old

Divya, Darsh, and Vihaan: 23 years old

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Three Years Later - Scotland

Siya walked toward the stage, the air crisp and cold in the scenic Scottish evening, the faint scent of the sea mixing with the sharp winds. She was invited to perform at a prestigious dance festival, something she had worked hard to achieve over the past two years. Dressed in a beautiful traditional kathak attire, her ghungroos glistened as she took her first steps onto the stage. The crowd was silent, waiting for her to begin. The stage was set with soft lighting, the shadows playing on her elegant costume and the flowing scarf wrapped around her waist, making her appear like a vision of grace.

"Aa Piya In Nainan Mein,

Jo Palk Dhamp Tohe Loon,

Naan Mein Dekhoon Gair Ko,

Naan Mein Tohe Dekhan Doon."

Siya raised her hand to her eyes, as if wiping away a single tear, her gaze softening as she whispered the words in her mind.bHer body swayed, feet tapping in rhythm, each movement deliberate, her eyes glistening with unspoken sorrow.

As she turned, her body's fluid movements mirrored the feeling of eyes yearning to see the one she loved-Shashwat.

"Sanson Ki Mala Pe, Simroon Main Pi Ka Naam, Sanson Ki Mala Pe, Simroon Main Pi Ka Naam."

Siya clasped her hands together as if holding a mala (prayer beads), bringing them close to her chest, her fingers gently brushing each bead as she bowed her head. With each breath, she let the rhythm of the taals echo through her body, each one representing the name of her love. Her chest rose with each inhale, and as she exhaled, she swayed gracefully, her head tilted down, lips moving in silent devotion.

"Apne Mann Ki Main Janoo,

Aur Pi Ke Mann Ki Ram."

The final turn she made, twirling faster, symbolized the conflict of love-of feeling one's emotions so deeply yet not always being able to understand the other's heart.

"Prem Ke Raang Mein Aisi Doobi,

Ban Gaya Ek Hi Roop,

Prem Ki Mala Japte Japte, Aap Bani Main Shyaam."

Siya's body sank into the movements, her feet grounded firmly on the stage as she let the weight of the world dissolve with every step. Her body posture was now softm.

"Prem Piyala Jab Se Piya Hai,
Jee Ka Hai Ye Haal."

Siya held her hands over her chest as if cradling a chalice. Her head tilted back slightly, her throat opening as if to drink in the feelings of love, loss, and longing. Her eyes flickered to the side, as if searching for something, a lost piece of her soul that could never be returned.

"Angaron Pe Neend Aa Jaye,

Katon Pe Aram."

Here, the dance slowed down. Siya's feet barely touched the ground, each step as if she is walking on fire. But she remained steady, gracefully balancing as if she was at peace despite the burning of her heart.

"Saanson Ki Mala Pe, Sanson Ki Mala Pe,
Sanson Ki Mala Pe,
Simroon Mai Pi Ka Naam."

Her final step was a slow, deep bow, her face held in her hands as if to cradle the pain of her own heart. The audience, witnessing the raw emotion of her performance, was left breathless, feeling the depth of her sorrow and love intertwined in every step.

Siya's eyes glistened with tears as she finished the dance, standing still at the center of the stage

Siya snapped out of her daze as the audience erupted into applause, their claps and hoots filling the auditorium with a thunderous cheer. The overwhelming sound made her heart flutter in disbelief. She wiped away the tears that had threatened to fall during her performance, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to regain her composure. With a deep breath, she slowly stood up, her back straight, her eyes still shimmering with emotions, and gracefully joined her hands in a traditional namaste gesture, silently thanking the audience for their love and admiration.

As she walked off the stage, her gaze lowered, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. The audience's reactions, though joyful, couldn't quiet the storm within her heart. She had poured every ounce of her being into that performance, each movement a reflection of her longing and unspoken love. But for now, she would let go of those emotions, knowing that she had honored them in her dance.

Once outside the auditorium, Siya was greeted by a woman holding a bouquet of flowers, a beaming smile on her face. "It was majestic!" the woman exclaimed, her voice filled with admiration. Siya's smile widened, though it was tinged with sadness as she accepted the bouquet, her fingers brushing against the soft petals. "Thank you so much," she said, her voice soft yet sincere, as several more people approached her, showering her with compliments. She nodded and smiled, grateful for their praise but still lost in the bittersweet memories of the performance.

As she made her way through the crowd, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, the name "Ritika Didi" lighting up on the screen. Without a second thought, she answered.

"Haan, didi?" Siya said, her voice almost distracted as she tried to absorb the reality of the night.

"Siya, tera performance ho gaya na? Jaldi aajaa yaar, meri engagement ring lene chalni hai parson. Aaj sab vapas aa rahe hain!" Ritika's voice crackled with excitement on the other end, and Siya could hear the joy radiating through her words.

[Siya, your performance is done, right? Come quickly, yaar, we have to go pick up my engagement ring the day after tomorrow. Everyone is returning today!]

Siya smiled despite herself, her lips curving upward in fondness for her older sister, even though she couldn't fully share the same excitement. "Haan didi, performance ho gaya. Don't worry, I'm going to the airport now. Shaam tak aa jaayenge. Aap tension mat lo, sab acche se ho jayega," she reassured Ritika, trying to push away the lingering sadness that had settled in her chest.

[Yes, didi, the performance is done. Don't worry, I'm heading to the airport now. I'll be back by evening. Don't stress; everything will go well.]

Ritika's voice perked up. "Haan aur do din baad bachelors and bachelorette party bhi rakhi hai. Shashwat bhi kal subah tak aa jayega," she teased, her tone light, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

[Yes, and in two days, we've also kept the bachelor and bachelorette party. Shashwat will arrive by tomorrow morning too.]

At the mention of his name, Siya's heart stilled, the warmth from her smile fading almost instantly. Her fingers tightened around the phone as she paused, the weight of his name hanging in the air like an old wound, still fresh despite the passing months.

"Hmmm..." she hummed, her voice losing its earlier cheer, and she tried to regain her composure. "Chalo, someone is calling me. Aate hain raat tak," she said, her tone clipped, though it carried a softness that betrayed her reluctance to continue the conversation.

[Okay, someone is calling me. I'll come by tonight.]

With a final, somewhat strained smile, she disconnected the call. She lowered the phone, staring at the screen for a moment, the absence of Ritika's excitement leaving an empty feeling in her chest. But she quickly shook it off, gathering herself as she walked to the waiting cab.

Once inside the cab, Siya sank into the seat, staring out at the bustling city streets, her mind drifting back to memories she had tried to bury. She pulled out her phone and opened her gallery, swiping through the photos until she reached a collection of screenshots. Her thumb hovered for a moment over the image of a conversation-a conversation that, for reasons she couldn't fully explain, she had taken screenshots of just last night.

She clicked on the chat, her eyes scanning the familiar words. Her heart ached a little as she read through the playful exchange between her and Shashwat. The words, though from a time that seemed like a lifetime ago, still felt like they had been written just yesterday.

*****************************************

Arav was lying on his bed, casually scrolling through his phone when his phone rang. He saw "Pran priye🦋" name flashing on the screen, and a grin immediately appeared on his face. He swiped to answer and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello, future Swami," Ritika said, her voice teasing, but filled with excitement.

Arav chuckled, his voice equally playful. "Hello, future Swamini," he replied, lying down comfortably on the bed, imagining Ritika's smile on the other end of the line.

Ritika's heart skipped a beat, her grin widening. "Four weeks, Arav. Hamari shaadi. Kuch din me hum dono ke hamesha ke liye ek ho jayenge."

[Four weeks, Arav. Our wedding. In a few days, we'll become one forever.]

Arav sighed dramatically, still smiling. "Haan, bas abhi 4 hafte... I can't wait, Ritika. Ye 4 weeks mujhse nahi guzar rahe."

[Yes, just 4 more weeks... I can't wait, Ritika. These 4 weeks feel like forever.]

Ritika couldn't help but giggle at his dramatic tone. "Mujhse bhi." She said.

[Me too.]

Arav grinned wider, and then, almost like a reflex, he started humming a familiar tune, adding his own little twist to it.

Arav sings, playfully:

Hamari shaadi mein abhi baaki hai hafte chaar,

Mahine beet gaye, ye hafte kaise honge paar,

Nahi kar sakta main aur ek din bhi intezaar,

Aaj hi pehna de mujhe apni baahon ka haar,

O Ritika Ooooo, O Swamini, Oooooo...

Ritika gasped, both surprised and charmed by his impromptu singing. "Swami! Control your excitement mujhe to iss baat ki bhi Khushi ho rahi hai ki hamare Bhai behan bhi ayenge bahot saal baad sab sath me ek sath aa payenge Varna kabhi siya hoti Shashwat nahi hota Richa Arushi hoti siya nahi hoti Teeno hoti to Darsh Divya nahi hote the"

[Arav! Control your excitement. I'm also happy about the fact that our siblings will come after many years and be together. Otherwise, if Siya was here, there wouldn't be Shashwat, if there was Richa, there wouldn't be Siya. If all three were there, Darsh and Divya wouldn't have existed.]

"Haan iss baat ki excitement to mujhe bhi hai...par uss se jyada excitement hamari engagement ki hai par yaar maine socha tha engagement 3-4 months pehle hi hoti to jada sahi rehta na ham fiance to husband wife vali cheejen miss kar denge."

[Yes, I'm excited about that too... but more excited about our engagement. But yaar, I thought the engagement would have happened 3-4 months ago, it would've been better. Now we'll miss out on fiancé to husband-wife moments.]

Ritika's heart fluttered. "Aww, koi nahi Swami, Mai hun na teen hafte to rahenge na engagement aur shadi ke beech ussi me ham apni life ke iss stage ko bhi enjoy karenge."

[Aww, it's okay Swami, I'm here. We'll have three weeks between engagement and marriage, and in that time, we'll enjoy this stage of our life too.]

Arav rolled over onto his stomach, his face now more serious, though his eyes still sparkled with joy. "But still I can't believe it!! I mean kal hi toh ham mile the, tum apni scooty pe baith ke mere ghar me choron ki tarah taak jhaank kar rahi thi."

[But still, I can't believe it!! I mean, just yesterday we met, and you were sitting on your scooty, peeking into my house like a thief.]

Ritika's voice softened, her heart filled with love. "Hmmm aur tumne aa ke mujhe bina wajah sunaya tha, tab kya pata tha wo sab ek din itni acchi memories ban jayengi..ham apne golu ko ye kahaniyan sunaayenge toh kitna maza ayega."

[Hmmm, and you came and scolded me for no reason. Who knew those moments would become such beautiful memories... we'll tell our little one these stories, it'll be so much fun.]

Arav smiled, hearing the mischief in Ritika's voice. "Bas yeh kuch hafton ka intezaar. Phir hum dono ke beech sab kuch aur bhi khoobsurat ho jayega."

[Just a few weeks of waiting. Then everything between us will become even more beautiful.]

Ritika sighed happily. "Haan, shaadi ke baad ham ek dusre ke liye har din special banane ka try karenge mai tumhara sar dabaungi tum mera sar dabana mai thak ke aungi mujhe apne hathon se khilana aur jab tum thake raho to mai apne hathon se khilaun jab ladai ho to dono sath me sorry bolenge ek dusre ko...ye chote chote cheejon se ham apne pyaar ko hamesha zinda rakhenge."

[Yes, after the wedding, we'll try to make each day special for each other. I'll massage your head, you'll massage mine. I'll feed you when I get tired, and when you're tired, I'll feed you. When we fight, we'll both say sorry to each other... with these little things, we'll always keep our love alive.]

Arav laughed softly. "Bilkul and I promise, aur shaadi ke baad bhi kabhi tumhe Aisa nahi feel hone dunga ki hamara pyaar kam ho gaya hai. I will make you feel like most luckiest girl in this wold,"

[Absolutely, and I promise, even after marriage, I'll never let you feel like our love has diminished. I will make you feel like the luckiest girl in this world.]

"I am already." She said with a wink.

As they continued talking, Ritika suddenly changed the subject, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Swami," she began, a teasing tone in her voice, "remember when my father caught us that day?"

Arav froze for a moment, his face going pale at the memory. Ritika noticed and couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my God, Arav! Your face is turning white just thinking about it!."

Arav let out a long sigh, running his hand through his hair. "Ritika, I'm not sure I ever want to relive that moment. It was like my life flashed before my eyes lag raha tha uncle abhi gun nikaal ke uda denge mereko."

Arav leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as the flashback replayed in his mind.

FLASHBACK

"Main job ki nahi, tumhare aur meri beti ke relationship ke baare mein baat kar raha hoon." Harsh said raising his eyebrows.

Arav froze, his eyes bulging in shock. He felt his throat dry up as he gulped nervously. "U... u... Uncle, wo actually... wo..." Arav stammered, standing up and trying to make an excuse to run away, but Harsh was quicker. He grabbed Arav's hand, not letting him escape.

Arav was now in full panic mode, sweating slightly and looking everywhere except at Harsh. "Uncle, wo... hum bas dost hain, bas aise... nothing serious... I mean, I'm just... helping Ritika with her... studies and... aahh..." Arav's words became more jumbled as he stumbled on his explanation.

Harsh raised an eyebrow, not buying it. "Dost? Hmmm... okay, if you say so. But, Arav, just tell me one thing, how long has this 'friendship' been going on?"

Arav's heart raced. "Uhh... 4 saal, Uncle... bas 4 saal!" He blurted out, his voice getting higher with each word. "And... um... nothing else, really... just a couple of... of... dance classes for annual function or fest of college and... and... any college project?"

Harsh didn't let up. "4 years, huh? That's a long time for just a college project. You sure there's nothing more?"

Arav's face was turning a deep shade of red. He could barely think straight. "Ummm... wo... uncle... it's just... uhhh... we've been good friends, I mean, best friends, really, nothing beyond that."

Harsh leaned in closer, his gaze becoming more intense. "Arav, beta, jhoot bolne ki koshish mat karna."

Arav's eyes widened. "U... uncle! I mean, I..i and ritika w.. were just more.... More than friends...like ummm..."

Harsh remained silent for a moment, clearly amused by Arav's nervousness. "So, explain to me what is more than friends?"

Just as he was about to go into another awkward explanation, his knees buckled from the sheer nervousness, and with a loud thud, Arav collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.

Harsh stood there, blinking in surprise. "Beta?" he said, kneeling down and tapping Arav's cheek. "Arav... Arav...!"

Harsh, with a mixture of frustration and concern, carefully lifted Arav's limp body and guided him to his car. The car ride was tense, the only sound being the soft hum of the engine as Arav remained unconscious. Harsh drove steadily, knowing the conversation ahead would be crucial. He arrived at his home, parked the car, and quickly helped Arav out of the vehicle. Harsh didn't want to waste any more time.

Inside the house, Ritika was munching on some chips, her attention distracted by the TV. When she heard the door open, she barely looked up. That is until she noticed her father helping Arav inside, his body slumped in his arms. The chips packet fell from her hands with a loud thud, her heart skipped a beat.

"Arav!!" Ritika shouted, her voice filled with panic. She ran over to him, kneeling beside him as Harsh gently laid Arav on the sofa.

"Papa, kya hua isse?" Ritika asked, her voice trembling, worry painting her face.

[Dad, what happened to him?]

Harsh sighed, rubbing his temple. "Kuch baat ki aur behosh ho gaya," he replied, trying to sound calm, though there was an edge of frustration in his voice.

[He said something and then fainted.]

Tara, who had been in the kitchen, quickly rushed over with a glass of water. Ritika took the glass from her mother's hand and sprinkled the water into Arav's face. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open, and he groggily looked around.

"Ritika..." Arav mumbled, his voice weak, a grin forming on his lips despite the situation.

Ritika smiled with relief, but before she could say anything more, Arav's eyes landed on Harsh standing beside the sofa. His smile faded, and his body went limp again as he fainted once more, his head lolling back on the couch.

"Arre... Arav, kya hua?" Ritika said, now genuinely worried, her hands shaking as she tried to wake him up.

[Oh no... Arav, what happened?]

Harsh, clearly exasperated, folded his arms across his chest. "Natak karne ki jaroorat nahi hai," he said sternly, raising an eyebrow.

[No need to dramatize.]

Arav slowly opened his eyes once more, his eyes squinting as he opened them. He sat up, rubbing his temples, feeling completely mortified. He cleared his throat, trying to gather himself.

Harsh raised an eyebrow. "Ab sach batao...kabse chal raha dono ka?" His voice was direct, his tone demanding honesty.

[Now