a story of a hindu priest's daughter who was a victim of girl's racket , sold to an old man of Saudi Arabia.
a known businessmen of Saudi Arabia , rescues her and saves her from that old man.
a priest's daughter and a muslim guy , their fates cross...
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Today marks the second day of my college journey, and I must say, my first day yesterday was absolutely remarkable. The excitement of beginning this new chapter in my life was palpable, and I was eager to embrace every moment.
Yesterday, I made several new friends, among them Sameer, who quickly became someone I felt I could confide in. We bonded over shared interests, and I found myself laughing more than I had in a long time. The thrill of making new connections was exhilarating, and it filled my heart with hope for the days to come.
As dawn broke yesterday, it was precisely 8:00 a.m. when my alarm pierced through the tranquility of my slumber. Groggily, I turned it off, the anticipation of the day ahead driving me to shake off the remnants of sleep. I had to get ready, and there was no time to waste.
I dashed to the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and took a refreshing shower. The brisk water revitalized my senses and cleared my mind. Afterward, I stood before my closet, contemplating my outfit for the day. Eventually, I settled on a beautiful hand-embroidered Anarkali suit. Its vibrant colors and intricate design made me feel both elegant and comfortable, perfect for my first day at college.
My parents have always encouraged me to express myself, allowing me the freedom to choose my path. The only exception to this was clothing. My father often remarked, "If wearing less clothing is fashion, then animals are the most fashionable since they wear none at all." I wholeheartedly agreed with him; nudity is not the essence of fashion. I have never been drawn to revealing attire. Instead, I gravitate toward kurtis, suits, sarees, and Indo-Western outfits. They embody my comfort and style.
With my outfit selected, I quickly dressed, letting my hair cascade freely down my back. I adorned my forehead with a small black bindi, added a touch of kohl to enhance my eyes, and glossed my lips. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror-ready to seize the day.
I packed my bag with my essentials and rushed downstairs. The aroma of breakfast wafted through the air, making my stomach growl in anticipation. After devouring a hearty meal, I was about to step out the door when my grandmother's voice called from behind.
"Ani, wait! I need to speak with you." Ani, as my grandmother affectionately calls me, brings an instant smile to my face. Most others call me Ahira, but the warmth in her voice makes me feel cherished.
"Ji, Dadi!" I responded, turning to find her seated in the living room. I knelt beside her, bringing myself to her eye level, eager to hear what she had to say.
"Last week, you asked your father to buy you a laptop, and he declined, saying he didn't have the money at the moment, correct?" she asked, holding my right hand and turning it palm up, as if examining it.
