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मेरी ज़िन्दगी सवारी, मुझको गले लगाके
बैठा दिया फलक पे ,मुझे खात से उठाके
यारा तेरी यारी को , मैंने तो खुदा माना
याद करेगी दुनिया ,तेरा मेरा अफ़साना
तेरे जैसा यार कहाँ ,कहां ऐसा याराना

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Trigger warning ⚠️

- Suicidal Thoughts
- Self-Harm
-Emotional Distress

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Siya and Shashwat were nestled in the tranquil back garden, away from the buzz of the auditorium where the principal's lecture droned on. The setting sun bathed the space in a warm, golden hue, making the surroundings seem almost magical.

"You never told me you were such a skilled kathak dancer," Shashwat said, his voice tinged with admiration. "I had to check the list 4-5 times just to believe it."

Siya's eyes sparkled as she grinned. "So, how did it feel watching me dance?" she asked, her tone playful and curious.

Shashwat's gaze softened as he looked at her. "It felt like my heart was dancing in sync with your feet," he said, his voice low and filled with awe.

Siya's grin widened, and for a moment, they both fell silent.

"Tumne kabhi bataya kyun nahi?" Shashwat asked again, curiosity and concern evident in his voice.

["You never told me."]

"What would I have told you? Woh toh hame pata tha ki papa nahi attend karenge annual function, so I performed. But I won't be performing again," Siya replied, her voice carrying a hint of sadness.

"Kyun? You are an excellent dancer. Mai kya pure school ka muh khula ka khula reh gaya tha. You have a great career in this field," Shashwat said, his eyes wide with admiration.

"I wish! But I can't make my career as a kathak dancer. You know, I actually wanted to be a kathak dancer... It is my passion. But ab koi matlab nahi ye sab ka," Siya said, her voice dropping.

"But why? Mishti, not everyone is blessed with such talent, and if you have it and actually want to pursue it, you're disrespecting your gift by not following it!" Shashwat said, frustration creeping into his tone.

Siya sighed deeply, her eyes distant as she remembered. "My last performance was when I was in class 9th in Delhi," she began.

FLASHBACK

The annual cultural event in Delhi was a grand affair. Siya, dressed in a vibrant traditional kathak costume, stepped onto the stage with grace and confidence. The rhythm of the tabla filled the air, and she began her performance, her feet tapping in perfect sync with the music, her movements fluid and mesmerising.

The audience watched in awe, but soon, a group of rowdy boys started making noise. They whistled and jeered, disrupting the performance. Suddenly, they began throwing money at her, treating her with disrespect. Their crude comments and laughter filled the auditorium, drowning out the music.

𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐈 [𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖨𝗇𝗇𝗈𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾] (Duet #1)Where stories live. Discover now