Once upon a time in the quaint little town of Kasauli, where the air smelled like pine trees and the Wi-Fi signal was as elusive as a unicorn, lived our quirky Sharma Family. 🌲📶
Prerna, the feisty yet perpetually frazzled housewife, had a secret...
Yeh dil na hota bechara, Kadam na hote aawara Jo khubsurat koyee apna Humsafar hota
Suna jabse zamane hain bahaar ke Ham bhee Aaye hain rahee banke pyar ke Koyee na koyee bulayega, Khade hain ham bhee raahon me
Rishav Sharma, a cab driver from the picturesque town of Kasauli, navigated the winding roads with ease, his passengers - a group of English tourists - chatting animatedly in the backseat. The tourists, intrigued by the serene beauty of the Himachal Pradesh hills, peppered Rishav with questions about the sights and sounds of the region.
"So, have you lived here all your life?" one of the tourists, a young woman with bright blue eyes, asked with genuine interest.
Rishav, glancing at her through the rearview mirror, nodded. "Haan, madame Ji. Born and raised in Kasauli. Beautiful place, it is."
Another tourist, a man with a hearty laugh, pointed to a framed photograph of a young girl hanging from the rearview mirror of Rishav's cab. "Who's the young lady in the picture? Your daughter?"
Rishav's eyes sparkled with pride as he nodded. "Oh yes, sir Ji. My daughter, Nayan, my sunshine, my Pari Ji."
The tourists smiled warmly, sensing the deep love and affection in Rishav's voice.
"She's beautiful. How old is she?" the woman asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.
Rishav chuckled softly. "She's four now. Full of life. Always curious about the world around her."
As they rode along, the tourists listened intently as Rishav shared stories of Nayan - her infectious laughter, her love for nature, and her insatiable curiosity about everything she encountered. Despite the language barrier, the bond between them deepened, a shared understanding of the universal love between a parent and a child.
♪♪♪
Arey mana Usko nahee mai pehchanta Banda uska pata bhee nahee jaanta Milna likha hai toh aayega, Khade hain ham bhee raahon me
Uskee dhun me padega dukh jhelna Sikha ham ne bhee pattharo se khelna Surat kabhee toh dikhayega, Pade hain ham bhee raahon me
The scene shifted to a small middle-class house in Kasauli, where a young girl of about four years old sat at a wooden table, deep in concentration as she carefully drew a picture of a man. Nayan's chubby fingers gripped the pencil as she etched the features of the man onto the paper, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Nearby, a young woman in her twenties, with a gentle aura of strength and resilience, watched over Nayan with a tender smile. This was Prerna, Nayan's mother, who had faced life's trials with unwavering determination and love for her daughter.
"Nayan, sweetie, it's time to eat," Prerna said softly, approaching the table with a plate of steaming food.
Nayan looked up, her hazel eyes bright with excitement as she showed Prerna her drawing.
"Look, Mama! I draw Papa!" She exclaimed proudly, pointing to the sketch of a man with messy hair and a big smile.
Prerna's heart swelled with love for her daughter.
"That's wonderful, Nayan. You're such a talented artist," she praised, ruffling Nayan's dark curls.
As Nayan giggled with delight, Prerna guided her towards the dining table, urging her to eat the warm meal she had prepared with love. But Nayan hesitated, her gaze wandering to an empty chair beside her.
"Papa?" Nayan asked, her voice tinged with longing.
Prerna felt butterflies doing salsa in her stomach at the mention of Rishav, the man who had become Nayan's father in every sense of the word. She had seen the unbreakable bond that had formed between the duo, the love and understanding that flowed between them effortlessly.
"He'll be back soon, sweetheart. Let's eat first," Prerna replied gently, attempting to coax Nayan into taking a bite.
But Nayan shook her head stubbornly, her lips trembling. "No, Mama. I wait for Papa. He feed me," She insisted, her young heart yearning for the comforting presence of her father.
Prerna's eyes softened with understanding as she realized the depth of Nayan's attachment to Rishav, yet again. With a sigh, she placed a comforting hand on Nayan's shoulder and sat at the dining table, their bond as mother and daughter palpable in the air, a soft knock on the door echoed through the house. In stepped a stooped figure, her face lined with wrinkles but her eyes sparkled with mischief and love. This was Neelamma, the grandmother of Rishav, whose presence brought a sense of warmth and wisdom to the household.
Neelamma's laughter filled the room as she saw Prerna's exasperated expression and Nayan's determined pout.
"Ah, the stubbornness of our little Nayan never fails to amuse me," she chuckled, making her way over to the table.
Prerna sighed in mock exasperation, a smile tugging at her lips. "She's just like her father, Neelamma. Won't eat a morsel without Rishav Ji being here with and by her."
Neelamma's eyes softened with affection as she looked at Nayan, the spitting image of Prerna by her looks and of Rishav by her behaviour and attitude.
"A father's love knows no bounds, Prerna. And Rajkumari Ji's bond with Raja Ji is a testament to the strength of that love," she remarked, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
Nayan, sensing the comfort and familiarity in Neelamma's presence, brightened up and reached out for her great grandmother's hand.
"Neelu, Papa is coming back, right? He promised to help me with my drawing," she said, her voice filled with anticipation.
Neelamma's heart clenched at the innocence and trust in Nayan's words. "Haan, meri Rajkumari. Raja Ji will be back soon. And I'm sure he'll be so proud of the beautiful drawing you've made for him," she replied, a faint smile playing on her lips.
As Nayan's face lit up with joy, Prerna felt a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support and love that Neelamma showered upon their family. Despite the challenges they faced, the bond that tied them together - across generations and through trials - remained unbroken and steadfast.
And as the sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the small kitchen, the three women - Prerna, Nayan, and Neelamma - shared a moment of quiet companionship and love, united by their shared experiences and the enduring legacy of Rishav's presence in their lives. With hope in their hearts and a sense of belonging that transcended time and space, they awaited the return of the man who held their family together with his love and devotion.
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(NOTE - the song lyrics written in italics in this chapter is the song playing in their background in car radio and home radio respectively in the respective scenes)
Thank you for reading!😃
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