" Teri Qismat ka likha koi tujhse koi nahi le sakta.
Agar bharosa hai rab par toh tujhe woh bhi mil jaayega joh tera ho na sakta"
When destiny decides to rewrite the lives of Karan and Tejasswi, it was already very late. Both of them had their...
A/n:- Don't forget to hit the star on the right and drop your remark! It's not proofread. Sorry for the mistakes. Thank you for reading. Word count- 1900+
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--⋆ When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.⋆--
Tejasswi's head was placed against the wooden frame of the window as she gazed at the starless sky on the other side of it. She looked at it blankly. Only one name lingered in her head "Karan". It was so tough for her all these years to keep back the memories that blew her up in one second. She couldn't help but see herself on the moon.
A deep silver ballerina, turning pirouettes in perfect forms and postures. She sounded happy until she realized it was not silver but grey. She was not a ballerina but a big clutter of creases and crevices. Ugly that the clouds began to block her away from casting her shadow on Earth. She might glimmer between the millions of stars but she'll never have a shine of her own. She might live between the heavens and Earth but she'll always be the one in the darkness.
why would someone love something like the moon?
She has always pondered. A tear slipped of her eyes falling into her lap. She looked at how it disappeared after leaving a stain on her cheek. Hasn't this always happened with her? Its not the tears that hurt her but the stains, the blotch and the marks her past has left on her. She bitterly smiled.
"Teja," she felt a hand on her shoulder. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she blinked her brimming tears away. Anita sat beside her when Tejasswi shifted to the side.
"Tell me what's running in this head of yours," Anita insisted. Teja opened her eyes as she wrapped herself with her arm rubbing it. She brought her legs up, crossing it over.
"Somwhere I am happy you are not being sarcastic for a while," Anita teased her. Tejasswi was too engrossed in admiring the moon. Anita sighed in defeat.
"Syra is so beautiful," Anita said, placing her hand on Teja's head caressing it slowly.
"Just like her," Tejasswi whispered. Her eyes swelled with tears, looking lively as memories came rushing back.
"Her eyes, the way she pouts, the way she keeps fiddling the ends of her hair. Everything is just so like Sitaara's," Tejasswi's voice cracked as the picture of the little girl crossed her mind, when she for the first time saw her at her, that day.
"Will you become her mother?" Anita finally asked mustering all her courage. Tejasswi sarcastically sneered.
"You think Karan will stand me even for a day around him and his daughter?" Tejasswi asked, holding her mother's hand, stopping her from raking her fingers into her hair.
"Its not about Karan. Its about you. Tell me, do you want to?" Anita asked.
"I can't do this to him or Sitaara. They don't deserve me, especially Syra," Tejasswi gulped the strings of profanities she had kept for her.
