ibaadat: Worshipping Her.

Chapter 11

(The next morning)

Author’s pov:

The mandir stood gracefully atop a hill, its white marble glistening under the morning sun. The temple’s serene surroundings were only enhanced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the soft hum of distant temple bells. Devotees moved in and out, their expressions peaceful as they offered prayers and sought blessings.

At the mandir:

Ibaadat adjusted her white dupatta as she made her way up the temple steps, her steps measured and her mind calm. The air was cool and refreshing, and the familiar path to the temple brought a sense of comfort. It was a routine she cherished—starting her day with prayers.

As Ibaadat reached the temple entrance, she paused for a moment, taking in the peaceful atmosphere. She closed her eyes briefly, offering a silent prayer before entering. The sound of her anklets echoed softly against the marble floor as she moved toward the inner sanctum.

Meanwhile, Abhimaan Singh Shekhawat arrived at the mandir, his demeanor composed as he exited his car. Dressed in a crisp white kurta-pajama, he looked every bit the regal figure he was known to be. Though he wasn’t one to frequent temples, today was different. His mother had insisted that he seek blessings before signing a major deal, and for her, he would make an exception.

As Abhimaan climbed the steps, he felt a rare sense of calm wash over him. The mandir’s peaceful aura seemed to offer a respite from the constant demands of his life. As he reached the top, he noticed a young woman, her back to him, standing by the entrance, her white suit and flowing hair catching his eye.

Ibaadat, unaware of the presence behind her, continued her way into the temple. But as she moved forward, something made her stop. It was as if a subtle shift in the air caught her attention. She turned slightly, her gaze drifting across the temple’s entrance, and that’s when their eyes met.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. Their eyes locked in an unspoken connection that neither could fully understand. Abhimaan felt an inexplicable pull, his usually composed demeanor shaken by the intensity of the moment. Ibaadat, too, was taken aback by the unexpected encounter, her heart skipping a beat.

There was a softness in Ibaadat’s hazel eyes, a quiet strength that intrigued Abhimaan. He couldn’t look away, even as his mind raced to make sense of the emotions stirring within him. Ibaadat, on the other hand, felt a warmth in her chest, a strange familiarity in the eyes of a man she had never seen before.

Just as quickly as the moment had begun, it ended. Ibaadat, feeling a sudden flush of shyness, lowered her gaze and turned away, her heart still racing. Abhimaan, recovering his composure, watched as she disappeared into the temple, a part of him wishing the moment had lasted longer.

Inside, Ibaadat tried to focus on her prayers, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the man with the piercing green eyes. Who was he? And why had their brief exchange left such a lasting impression? She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she was here to seek peace, not to dwell on fleeting moments.

Abhimaan, now standing at the entrance, hesitated for a moment before following her inside. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he knew he wouldn’t forget it anytime soon. As he approached the deity, he bowed his head in reverence, yet his thoughts remained on the woman who had crossed his path so unexpectedly.

As both finished their prayers and prepared to leave, their paths crossed once more near the temple’s exit. This time, there were no words, only a brief exchange of glances—a silent acknowledgment of the connection they had felt.

Without another word, they went their separate ways, but the memory of that fleeting encounter lingered in their minds, leaving them both wondering if fate had something more in store for them.

Ibaadat’s look:

Abhimaan’s look: