Love - drama - care - struggle - respect - simple - heartwarming this are foundation of this story.
Adishh and Adhya are indication of current generation.
"He maybe introvert and silent, but his love scream talk and chase me."
"She is defenition of...
I was meticulously arranging everything needed for the temple visit-flowers, fruits, and various other items-as per my mother's instructions. In our household, we hold a tradition that mandates personal preparation of all offerings before going to the temple. This includes cleaning our home, taking a bath, organizing everything, and dressing up appropriately, all to ensure our minds and spirits are as prepared as our physical offerings.
"Laddu, have you prepared your puja thali?" Amma inquired, her voice echoing from the kitchen. By the way Laddu is my pet name in my home and I hate it, my appa started to call me by this name because I was chubby when I was a baby. Know everyone call me by this name even my school friend, thank god Adishh and advish are not aware about this name
"Yes, amma, everything is ready. Could you please check if it's perfect?" I responded, seeking her approval.
After a brief inspection, Mom gave me a satisfied nod. "Everything is perfect, Adhya," she affirmed, her voice warm with approval.
"Thank you, amma. Could you now help me with draping my saree?" I asked, a bit anxious about getting it right.
"Of course, Laddu. Come, let's get you ready," she said, her tone laced with affection as she led me to my room.
Once adorned in my saree, I assisted Mom with the remaining preparations, crafting some offerings for the gods and lighting a diya in our puja room. The gentle glow of the flame seemed to fill our home with peace and serenity, marking the start of a blessed day.
"Let's go, Laddu," amma called out, her voice filled with the excitement of heading to the temple.
"Just a moment, amma. You go ahead with appa," I replied, my heart fluttering with anticipation. Today was special. Not just any day, but the day Adi would see me in a saree for the first time. My stomach was a bundle of nerves and excitement.
I lingered behind, finding a spot to secretly observe Adishh from the window. He looked striking in his traditional attire, embodying the grace of our culture. Yet, he hadn't noticed me. There I was, hidden away, not ready to reveal myself just yet, my heart skipping beats every time our eyes almost met.
Peeking through the window, I saw Adi engrossed in his phone, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. He leaned against the car, waiting for his parents, lost in whatever was on his screen. I watched him, a smile creeping onto my face, thinking about the surprise awaiting him. The thought of his reaction upon seeing me in a saree for the first time sent waves of excitement through me. I wanted the moment to be perfect, for when his eyes finally met mine, for him to see me not just as the girl he knew, but in a new light, draped in tradition and elegance.
Adishh pov.
Eagerly awaiting Adhya, her presence had become my solace. She was my intoxicant, a constant craving. Her laughter, her smile, every facet of her was an elixir to me. She turned the mundane into magic, captivating me wholly. She was my heart's addiction, a joy that never faded.
In the soft glow of the morning sun, there she was, my heart's delight, draped in a saree that whispered tales of tradition and grace. The red and white fabric clung to her form, a vivid embodiment of love's pure essence, mirroring the hues of a South Indian dawn. Her steps, delicate and measured, seemed to dance to a rhythm only she could hear, each movement a stroke of artistry that captured the essence of her heritage.
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As she approached, her bangles chimed like distant temple bells, calling devotees to witness the divine. Her hair, braided with jasmine, trailed behind her, leaving in the air the sweet fragrance of devotion. The gold of her jewelry reflected the early sunlight, crowning her with an ethereal glow, as if she were a deity descended amongst mortals.
Her eyes, bright and lively, held within them the stories of a thousand generations, sparkling with the promise of a shared future. They met mine, and in that gaze, I found my world. The way the saree accentuated her grace, the modest blush of her cheeks, and the shy smile that played on her lips transported me to a realm where time stood still.
"Oh, wow Adhya," I breathed out, my voice barely a whisper, awestruck by the vision before me. She was the quintessory image of a South Indian girl, embodying the rich tapestry of our culture, yet shining brightly with her own unique light.
"Thank you, Adi," she responded, her voice carrying the melody of monsoon rains upon the dry earth, refreshing and vibrant. Her modesty in the face of my open admiration only added to her charm, making her all the more precious.
In her presence, I was a lover boy, hopelessly enamored, witnessing the unfolding of a living poem. Her elegance, her poise, and the cultural tapestry she wore so effortlessly left me in awe. She was not just the girl I loved; she was a celebration of our heritage, a beautiful blend of the past and the present, enchanting, mesmerizing, and utterly irreplaceable.
"You look beautiful," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder might break the spell she had cast around us.
"Thank you, Adi," she responded, her cheeks tinted with a soft blush, a testament to her modesty in the face of my admiration.
Captivated by her elegance, I felt an overwhelming desire to capture this moment, to freeze this perfect instance of beauty and grace. "May I take a picture?" I asked, hoping to preserve this memory forever.
"Of course, go ahead," she agreed, a playful sparkle lighting up her eyes.
As I raised my phone, aiming to encapsulate her radiance, I quickly realized the futility of my attempt. The camera, with all its technology, failed to grasp the depth of her allure. The image, though beautiful, paled in comparison to her true presence. "You look like an angel," I said, awestruck, my voice laced with a mixture of wonder and frustration at my inability to capture her essence fully.
"Thank you, Adi. But I'm just a normal girl," she humbly replied. Her words, simple yet profound, underscored the duality of her charm. Her extraordinary beauty, paired with her grounding humility, only served to deepen my affection for her.
Just then, my ever-playful brother joined us, adding his own compliments to the mix. Despite his kind words, a twinge of irritation flickered within me, not wanting to share this moment with anyone else. Yet, seeing Adhya's face light up with joy at his acknowledgment, I bit back my annoyance, choosing instead to bask in the glow of her happiness.
