'MMMMM' She moaned
'Haye teria'n awaaza jn ' He spoke slowly rubbing his nose over her pride.
(Your moans,my love)
'Mahabirrrr' She cried
'Han bol' He asked continuing the torture
(Yes,what happened)
Please,Naa ta-----aaahhhhhhh'
(Please don't an...
Dard di shaam hove,jaa sukh da savera hove,sabh manzur aa mnu,sath bss tera hove❤️🌸
May it be the evening of pain, or the morning of happiness, everything is acceptable to me, only you should be with me ❤️🌸
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Harleen's face lit up again. "Yes, I adore Jane Austen and her works. 'Pride and Prejudice' is my all-time favorite."
Mahbir grinned. "Wah classic choice.Mai kde fiction parheya ni aina hn prr mainu Biographies psnd ne.Loka'n d zindgi which ki chlda te ohna de vichara da pta lagda rehnda"
(A classic choice. I haven't read much fiction lately, but I enjoy biographies. They give such deep insights into people's lives and thoughts.)
Harleen smiled. "That's true. Maybe you could recommend a good biography for me to read."
Mahbir nodded enthusiastically. "I'd love to. And perhaps you could suggest a novel for me to dive into."
Harleen laughed softly. "Deal."
They both sat there, exchanging smiles, feeling the first stirrings of a connection forming between them, beyond the arrangements of their families.
"Harleen," he began, his voice gentle, "Mai eh kehna chauna b mai saadi journey ikathi vekhna chauna.Mainu pta apa'n dowe nervous aa.Prr mnu puura vishwaas ae"
(I just wanted to say that I'm really looking forward to our journey together. I know we're both a bit nervous, but I believe in us.)
Harleen's eyes met his, her shyness momentarily giving way to a soft, sincere smile. "I believe in us too, Mahbir, Chaliye thalle?" she whispered.
(Shall we go down ?)
Mahbir nodded and smiled which Harleen returned.
On the other hand Jasksran and Harsifat were fighting for a samosa in the kitchen.
The aroma of freshly fried samosas filled the small, bustling kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on the tiled floor. Jaskaran and Harsifat stood at the counter, their eyes locked on the last samosa, a golden brown triangle of crispy perfection. The rest of the family sat in the living room, chatting and laughing, unaware of the brewing storm in the kitchen.
Jaskaran, a mischievous glint in his eye, reached for the samosa. "Mera va eh," he declared, his voice barely above a whisper.
(It's Mine)
Harsifat, a fiery spirit, quickly slapped his hand away. "Aida kidda! Mai vekhya hi pehla'n" she whispered back, her eyes narrowing in defiance.
