Not every rose is red. Not every Sunday is a fun day. Not every damsel in distress has her prince charming. Not every bad guy changes to an adoring husband for his wife. Not every memory is worth remembering. Similarly, NOT EVERY LOVE STORY IS FILLE...
Abhidnya came out of the washroom and saw an ethnic dress already placed on the bed. Without wasting much time she wore the dress.
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She sat in front of the dressing table and started making her hair. Her lips slightly quivered while her fingers shook. She closed her eyes just for a second or two and opened it. She applied the moisturizer and a small sob escaped her mouth.
"Jao yahan se" she mumbled while looking in the mirror. She bowed her head and slowly shook it negatively while biting her lips.
She took a deep breath and stood up. She picked a dry napkin a part dry her eyes and applied kohl while muttering "Abadhya, Abadhya, Abadhya"
Her tears flowed down her eyes while sweat beads appeared on her forehead. She again picked a fresh set of napkin and cleaned the tears.
"I don't want to recall about you maa please leave me alone. Mein apko yaad nhi karna chahti, mujhe apko bhulna hai, chali jao please" she mumbled frantically with an erratic heartbeat.
She hastily searched on the vanity for Adhavan's perfume and spread it on herself. She smelled it again and again as an escape from the thoughts of her mother.
Controlling her emotions, she calmed herself and giving a final look to herself, she went downstairs to attain the puja.
IN THE HOLY COMPOUND
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Temple bells were ringing producing a melodious chime. The family along with the house helpers and other people were gathered near the holy compound. The scene infront Abhidnya gave her aesthetic vibes.
She proceeded forward only to get goosebumps with the chants recited by a circle of 13 priests. In the middle there was head priest and Adhavan offering prayers to lord Shiva.
Abhidnya's eyes shifted from Adhavan to the shrine which was oozing strong positivity.
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