– "You didn’t leave me,… you just paused my world."
“Alright, alright—I get it. You love me madly. But there’s no need to announce it to the whole world!”
Prarthana pressed her fingers gently to Aayog’s lips, her eyes glinting with affection as a smile danced on her face.
Aayog looked at her intensely, then glanced around. People had momentarily stopped to look, drawn by his excited voice, but were slowly returning to their routines.
“How can I not express my love for you?” he whispered. “Every time I see you, I lose control. I keep waiting, just for a moment to be near you…”
Prarthana pouted playfully. “Then who told you to leave me and this city behind?”
Pain flickered across Aayog’s face. His voice grew heavy. “If I hadn’t left then, I’d have lost you forever… And the day I lose you for good, that will be the last day of my life.”
She quickly patted his arm. “How many times have I told you not to say things like that! Go. Don’t talk to me anymore.”
She turned away, but kept glancing back—making sure he was following her, even in her annoyance.
Aayog walked a few steps behind, smiling.
“Eyes on the road, madam. You’re watching me instead,” he teased.
Prarthana quickly looked ahead, chuckling under her breath.
But then—
Aayog’s heart stopped. A truck was speeding toward her.
“Prarthana!” he screamed, his voice cracking.
The truck halted just in time.
Prarthana turned around and laughed. “See? Nothing happened!”
But Aayog rushed over, trembling, his eyes red with panic.
“Are you hurt? Are you okay?”
He turned toward the truck driver and shouted, “Can’t you see the signal? This isn’t an airport, it’s a street!”
Prarthana touched his hand gently. “Relax… I’m fine.”
But he was still shaking. She handed him a water bottle and teased, “You’re acting like the truck actually ran over me.”
His anger burst. “When you don’t know what to say, don’t say anything at all!”
He stormed off.
She ran after him, stopping him just as he reached his bike. “Leaving me alone again?”
Without waiting, she hopped on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
After a few minutes of silence, Aayog spoke in a soft voice,
“Prarthana?”
“Hm?”
“I can’t live without you anymore.”
She smiled and whispered, “Me neither.”
“Then marry me.”
Her silence returned.
Later that evening, as she walked into her home, her mother’s voice pierced the quiet—
“Out again? On a Sunday?”
“I had something important…”
“Go change and help me in the kitchen.”
Prarthana nodded, quietly. Inside her room, she collapsed onto her bed.
Aayog’s voice echoed—Then become mine, forever?
She looked at herself in the mirror—same tired eyes, same quiet face. But tonight, something was different. A fear. A confusion.
In a middle-class family, loving someone is a battle. You don’t just fight for love—you fight for approval, for survival.
Love, here, is a silent war. And silence is the only armor.
That night, the moonlight bathed the terrace in peace. Prarthana stood under it, wrapping her shawl tightly around her. The breeze whispered secrets, and her heart waited—like always.
A soft rustle, and a familiar scent surrounded her.
“So late tonight?” she said without turning.
Aayog walked beside her, gazing at her face in the moonlight. “What if I hadn’t come?”
“Then I’d complain to the moon… that my madman isn’t the same anymore.”
He smiled, moving closer. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Do you know? Every day, I’m falling more into the chaos that is you.”
“Then fall completely,” she said softly. “I’ve always wanted you to belong only to me.”
He held her hands. “Then be mine, forever?”
Silence.
Aayog sighed. “This silence… this scares me the most.”
She said nothing. Just rested her head gently on his shoulder.
He laced his fingers with hers and whispered to the sky, “Maybe the day this silence breaks… I’ll be the happiest man alive.”
“Maybe…” she murmured.
The Day Prarthana's Engagement Is Fixed (Flashback)
The living room was filled with chatter, laughter, and the smell of fresh sweets. A middle-aged couple sat on the sofa, smiling politely — the boy’s parents. Her mother beamed, proud. “He’s a government employee. Permanent job. Good salary. He'll keep her secure.”
Everyone nodded in agreement. Except one person — Prarthana.
She stood quietly in a corner, watching her future being sealed with tea and sweets.
Aayog's words echoed in her ears — "Then become mine."
Her chest ached, but her lips stayed shut.
Inside her diary that night, she wrote:
"Middle-class dreams are like dew drops. They shine so brightly for a moment… but before you can hold them, they’re gone.
My dream had a name. Aayog.
But my parents choose security over love. They chose society over me.
Isn’t it strange? They say they do everything for our happiness, but never stop to ask what our happiness looks like.”
The Day After the Rishta Meeting
The room was quiet except for the clinking of bangles as Prarthana cleared the tea cups. Her heart felt heavier than the tray she held. She didn’t even realize when a tear slipped down her cheek .Her mother noticed.
"Prarthana..." she said gently, stopping her.
"What happened? You're not happy?"
Prarthana didn't answer. Her voice came out like a whisper, but it carried years of suppressed dreams.
"Mummy… do I not get to choose?"
Her mother looked away.
"You think we didn’t consider you? We chose what’s best for you, beta. A stable boy, good family, government job — isn’t that what every girl deserves?"
She nodded slowly, eyes filling. "But is that what I want?"
Her father entered the room, overhearing the conversation.
"What you want today, Prarthana, may not help you tomorrow. We’ve lived longer. We know the world."
His voice was calm but firm.
"You think love will feed you when times are hard?"
"You think that boy—Aayog—can give you the life this boy can?"
Her mother sat beside her, placing a hand over hers.
"We’re not against your happiness, bitiya. But we’re afraid. Afraid you’ll make the wrong choice. You’ve never seen the world as it is. We have. That’s why we’re choosing safety for you. Love will come later. It always does."
Prarthana looked down.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell them love wasn't some luxury she could summon later. That her heart already belonged to someone. That choosing safety over love felt like cutting her wings before she ever learned to fly.
But instead, she swallowed her pain like a bitter pill.
“Okay,” she whispered.
And just like that, a hundred dreams turned to dust inside her chest.
....................................
Letter from Prarthana to Aayog
Aayog,
I don’t know how to begin this, because I never thought I’d be writing it. I always believed… when it came to you, words would never be needed.
But today, my silence would mean betrayal. So here it is.
They’ve fixed my marriage. A government officer. "Secure," "stable," "safe."
They never asked what I wanted, because I was never supposed to want.
I tried, Aayog. I tried to say no. But they made it sound like I was choosing a mistake over a miracle.
And you — you’ve always been the storm they were afraid of.
Please don’t hate me. I never stopped loving you. I just stopped fighting for myself.
Forgive me.
Yours, even if the world says otherwise,
Prarthana
Letter from Aayog to Prarthana (after receiving the news)
Prarthana,
I read your letter a hundred times.
And every time, I imagined you writing it with tears in your eyes and hands that didn’t want to let go of the pen.
I won’t ask why. I already know.
You were never weak — just trapped in love and duty.
I won’t stop you.
I never wanted to cage you, only to walk beside you.
If you're happy without me, then I'm happy… watching you from afar.
Just one request — remember me, not with guilt… but with love.
I couldn’t give you a future… but you were always my forever.
Yours forever, even if not in this lifetime,
Aayog
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two Weeks Later
Aayog died in a road accident. The news reached Prarthana like thunder on a cloudless day. No storm. No warning. Just silence — and then, destruction.
She didn’t cry.
Not immediately.
She sat on the floor, reading his letter again and again until the ink smudged from her tears.
That night, she walked out of her engagement.
Walked out of her house.
Walked out of the life they chose for her.
And never looked back.
She left behind the weight of expectations, and walked into a world where she had no name, no identity…
Except for one truth —
She once loved a man named Aayog, and that love was enough for a lifetime.
….
….
Years passed. Seasons changed like pages in a forgotten diary, and Prarthana learned how to breathe again — slowly, quietly, and on her own terms.
She now lived in a small town by the hills, where no one knew her name, her past, or the story she carried in her eyes.
Every morning, she’d open the window to the sunrise and whisper his name into the wind — Aayog.
She never married.
Not because she couldn’t… but because she didn’t want to.
She’d found a life where she could be free — to write, to teach little children, to water her plants, to make her own tea the way he liked it — strong, without sugar.
She wore his watch on her wrist — broken, but close to her pulse.
And his last letter… was folded neatly inside a book of poetry she read on rainy evenings.
There were no photographs of him in her house.
Only memories — warm and weightless — that visited her when she was alone.
Sometimes, when she walked by the lake at dusk, she swore she could hear him laugh in the rustling leaves.
And she'd smile — softly, silently — like a secret shared with the sky.
People often asked why she never returned to her family.
She never answered.
Some roots are cut so deep, even the soil forgets them.
But when someone once asked if she’d ever been in love, her eyes shimmered as she replied —
“Yes… and I still am. Just not with someone who breathes anymore.”
Because for Prarthana,
Aayog never truly died.
He simply became the silence in her poetry…
And the forever in her heart.
....
From Prathana's Diary
"इश्क़ की आज़ादी"
ज़माने ने रोका, मगर चाहना कब रुका है,
हर सितम किया उसने, पर दिल ना झुका है।
बांधना चाहा मुझे अनचाहे बंधनों में,
पर आज आज़ाद हूँ मैं हर एक बंदिश से।
ना अब ऊँच-नीच की कोई रेखा बची है,
ना डर है किसी रिश्ते की परिभाषा का।
मैं बस तुमसे मोहब्बत करती हूँ,
सिर्फ़ तुमसे — बिना किसी शर्त, बिना किसी वजह।
अब कोई नहीं रोक सकता,
ना दुनिया, ना रस्में, ना सरहदें,
प्रार्थना को आयोग को चाहने से।
"Freedom to Love"
The world tried to stop me, but love never waits,
They bruised me with silence, yet my heart never breaks.
They tried to tie me in bonds I never chose,
But today, I’ve broken free — from every chain, every dose.
No longer do I care for status or pride,
No fear of labels we’re told to abide.
I just love you — with no reason, no plea,
Only you… and that’s enough for me.
Now no one can stop this fire, this flame,
Not the world, nor traditions, nor any name.
No one can stop Prarthana from loving Aayog — ever again.
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