Shubman Gill is facing a lot of problem in his family. His sister moved out because of him to a different country and no one knows where so both Keart and Lakwinder do not talk to them because of this.
Sara Tendulkar is a bubbly and has a loving fam...
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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the city, two days had slipped by in the usual silence of the house. My parents, lost in their own world, barely acknowledged my presence. The weight of their indifference was a heavy cloak around my shoulders, but London called to me—a promise of a fresh start. I whispered a farewell to the walls that had witnessed my childhood and instructed Parvati Didi to keep me informed about any changes in Mumma and Papa's condition. With a suitcase in hand, I descended the stairs, my heart heavy yet hopeful.
Mumma and Papa were ensconced in the dining area, their figures blurred through my misty eyes. "Mumma, Papa, I'm leaving," I announced, my voice echoing with a tinge of hope for a last-minute glance, a sign of affection. But nothing stirred, no eyes met mine, no words halted my departure. The silence was my answer, and with a heart laden with unspoken words, I stepped out into the twilight.
I had confided in Sara about my departure, and to my surprise, she shared the news of her own journey to London, where her dreams awaited her in the form of academia. Our paths, intertwined by fate, were set to converge in the skies.
I settled into my car, the leather seats familiar and comforting. The engine purred to life, a soft rumble that filled the empty space around me. I dialed Sara's number, and her voice, bright and clear, greeted me. "Hey Sara, I'm right outside your house," I said, a smile tugging at my lips despite the somber mood.
"Just a minute," came her cheerful reply.
Sara emerged, a vision in red and beige, her laughter mingling with the farewells of her family. Sachin Sir and Anjali ma'am embraced her with warmth, while Arjun's hug spoke volumes of their bond. I averted my gaze, not wanting to intrude on their private moment, but when Sara slid into the seat beside me, our eyes met, and an unspoken understanding passed between us.
Her attire was a burst of color against the evening sky, the red top vibrant and lively, while her trousers whispered elegance. Her hair cascaded freely, framing her face in a dance of shadows and light. She was, in every sense, utterly captivating.
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As we approached the airport, I broached the subject of our entrance. "Um... Sara, can we go separately and then board the flight together? I mean, because of the paparazzi," I explained, the word 'paps' hanging between us like a specter of my public life.
