Aditya pushed the door of his apartment open, his heart heavy and his mind in disarray. The dim light from the lamps could not dispel the darkness that enveloped him. The walls, once filled with laughter and happiness, now seemed to close in on him, as if they were mourning the loss of Pooja.
He made his way to the living room, his footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. Memories of their life together assailed him: the bursts of laughter, the evenings spent discussing their dreams, the future plans they had woven together. Aditya collapsed onto the couch, his head in his hands, overwhelmed by a wave of grief.
He looked up and spotted a framed photo of the two of them, radiant with happiness. Pooja, with her bright smile, seemed alive, almost tangible. Aditya sprang to his feet, approached the photo, and lit a candle he had kept for special occasions. The flame flickered, casting shadows in the room.
The wall clock struck 00:00.
*— Happy birthday, Pooja,* he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion. *I still love you.*
Tears began to flow down his cheeks as he recalled the moments they had shared, the promises they had made to each other. How could she be gone? How could he live without her?
At that moment, the door swung open abruptly, and Arjun, his brother, entered, his face marked by concern.
*— Adi, where are you? I came as quickly as I could. What happened?* he asked, breathless.
*— Pooja is gone,* Aditya replied, his voice trembling. *How am I supposed to live without her? And the worst part is that she was pregnant with our child.*
Arjun stepped closer, wrapping his arms around his brother. *— I know, I know,* he murmured, his voice full of compassion. *I'm here for you.*
*— Arjun, you know how much we suffered to have this baby, all the treatments we went through.* Aditya pulled away slightly, his gaze lost in the void. *But where was she going? What does the police say about the accident?*
*— They haven't given me much information for now,* Aditya replied, with frustrated face. *But this story is too strange. Pooja's heart was removed at the hospital. According to the director, she was on an organ donation list, but it's so odd; Pooja never mentioned that to me.*
Aditya stood up, agitated. *— Pooja was supposed to tell me about her pregnancy tonight. There are too many mysteries surrounding this story. But for now, I just want to organize a proper farewell for her.*
*— Where is Sakshi, maa? Why didn't she come with you?*
*— She's outside. She's still in shock. Entering this house knowing that Pooja won't be here anymore must be incredibly difficult for her,* Arjun replied. *Give her a few minutes; she will come in.*
At that moment, the door opened again, and Sakshi entered, her face marked by pain, desperately searching for a sign that would prove her daughter was anything but not dead.
Sakshi had always had a very close relationship with Aditya, whom she considered her own son. After the tragic loss of her parents, their bond had grown even stronger. She had chosen to stay in the Hooda mansion with Arjun, even after Pooja and Adi moved out, as the young couple wanted more privacy.
A feeling of guilt washed over her as she realized that she might have given more love to Aditya than to Pooja. What if, in her last moments, her daughter had resented her for that?
When Aditya saw Sakshi, he immediately collapsed into her arms, tears streaming down his face. *"Calm down, Adi. I just lost my daughter and my grandson. I don't want to lose my son too. We must be strong and united, my son."*
Sakshi's words resonated like a sweet melody, but Aditya couldn't help but feel an immense void, a chasm of sorrow. He stood up, wiped his tears, and walked toward Pooja's photo, his heart heavy with regrets and memories.
*— Pooja, you didn't deserve this, I didn't deserve this, we didn't deserve this,* he murmured, crying.
He began searching through the drawers, frantically rummaging for mementos, photos, anything that could remind him of Pooja. Each image he discovered was a poignant reminder of what he had lost.
*— Adi,* Arjun said, his gaze serious, *look at me, calm down. I'm here, and I won't let you down.*
Aditya nodded, grateful for his brother's presence. *— Thank you, Arjun. I don't know what I would do without you.*
The night wore on, and as Aditya stood there, surrounded by his family, he knew he had to be strong, not only for himself but also for Pooja, as the doubt about the circumstances of her death still troubled him.
---
Zoya was sitting on the balcony of her room, her gaze lost in the starry night of Mumbai. The city, illuminated by thousands of lights, had an enchanting charm, but tonight, nothing could soothe her troubled mind. Anxiety gripped her as she realized that her operation was scheduled for the next day.
She held her chest, as if to calm her heart that was racing. *Tomorrow, another heart will beat in my chest,* she thought, a wave of worry washing over her. *How will my body react to this foreign heart? And what if my body rejects the transplant?* Questions swirled in her mind like leaves carried by the wind. *But who could this donor be?* She promised herself to ask her father what he knew.
Suddenly, a knock echoed at the door.
*— Come in,* Zoya called, her voice betraying a slight nervousness.
Wasseem entered, his face etched with concern. *— Zoya, my dear, you're not sleeping?* he asked, approaching her. *You need to rest for tomorrow.*
*— But abbu, I'm not sleepy,* she replied, her voice anxious.
*— Are you stressed about your operation, dear?* he asked, taking a seat beside her on the balcony.
*— Not really, Abbu, I know I have the best doctors at my disposal. I have your support, Noor's, and Yash's.* She paused, her gaze drifting into the horizon. *But I can't stop thinking about my donor. Abbu, please tell me who it is. I need to know.*
Wasseem took his daughter's hands in his, squeezing them gently. *— Zoya, for now, don't think about that,* he said softly. *All you need to focus on is staying calm for tomorrow's operation. We'll talk about it afterward. Promise me?*
*— Yes, of course, dear,* Wasseem replied, crossing two of his fingers behind his back.
He stood up and helped her to her feet, guiding her toward her bed. Tenderly, he pulled the blanket over her, making sure she was warm. Then, he kissed her forehead, a gesture filled with love and reassurance.
*— Rest, dear, and remember that I love you more than anything,* he murmured, his voice soft as a caress.
*— I love you too, Abbu,* she replied, a smile forming on her lips. *More than Yash?* he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
*— Yes, but don't tell Yash, please,* she replied, laughing softly, the tension of the day seeming to lighten for a moment.
Wasseem left Zoya's room, turning off the light and leaving the space in a gentle dimness. Zoya snuggled under the covers, her heart still heavy, but comforted by her father's presence. She knew she was not alone in this ordeal, and that gave her a bit of strength to face the day ahead.
---
The day dawned on the fates of Zoya and Pooja, two young women who had never met but were connected by an invisible thread. One was about to be burned on the funeral pyre, while the other was preparing to be reborn from her ashes.
Zoya lay on the stretcher, her heart racing as the doctors prepared her for surgery. Her father, Wasseem, stood by her side, his gaze filled with support and love. Yash, her fiancé, held her hand, his eyes full of worry.
*— Zoya,* Yash murmured, his voice soft yet firm, *you are strong. You will get through this. I'm here; I won't leave you.*
*— I know, Yash,* she replied, trying to smile despite the anxiety gripping her. *Promise me you'll take care of Abbu and Noor.*
*— I promise, but don't worry about anything; everything will be fine,* he said, squeezing her hand a little tighter. *Everything will be fine, and when you wake up, I'll kidnap you, and we'll get married quickly.* This made Zoya smile immediately.
At the same moment, Pooja's body was being transported on another stretcher, wrapped in a white shroud, heading toward the funeral pyre. Aditya, his face marked by pain, walked alongside his brother Arjun and other family members, his heart heavy with sorrow. Their footsteps echoed in the oppressive silence of the cemetery, where the atmosphere was filled with respect and sadness.
The priest, dressed in his traditional robe, began to recite the final prayers, his voice rising in the cool morning air. The flames of the pyre awaited, ready to welcome Pooja's body.
Back at the hospital, anesthesia was injected into Zoya, plunging her into a world of darkness. *— I'm here, my dear,* Wasseem murmured, gently stroking her hand. *Everything will be fine.*
*— Abbu,* Zoya murmured, her eyes slowly closing, *I love you.*
*— I love you too,* he replied, his voice trembling with emotion.
Outside, Aditya stood before the pyre, his heart heavy. He knew it was his duty to light the fire. Before performing the ritual, he closed his eyes and made a promise to Pooja. *I promise to find your heart and bring it back to me.* He lit the fire, the flames dancing with a heartbreaking intensity.
The more the fire consumed Pooja's body, the more intense Zoya's operation became. In the operating room, the doctors were busy monitoring Zoya's vital signs. Suddenly, they dropped dangerously low.
*— We need more time!* a doctor shouted as anxiety gripped the team.
On the other side, Aditya, tears in his eyes, kept repeating his promise to Pooja, his voice mingling with the crackling of the fire. *Come back to me no matter how, but come back; I promise I won't bother you anymore, I love you.* His words resonated like an incantation, infusing Zoya with new strength as she fought to return to life.
*— Don't give up, Zoya,* Noor whispered, praying at the altar next to the operating room. *We need you.*
The flames danced, and as Pooja's body slowly turned to ashes, Zoya felt a warmth enveloping her. She fought, propelled by the love and support of her family, and an unknown but powerful force.
Finally, the operation was a success. Zoya was brought back to her room, still under the effects of anesthesia, while Pooja's ashes were handed to Aditya, a symbol of a life extinguished and one reborn.
In the cemetery, silence reigned, but in Aditya's heart, the troubling circumstances of Pooja's death would never let him rest. He had to bring justice to Pooja and their child. And the truth was the key that would free him from his resentment.
*— Hello, Rajveer, it's Aditya. Can we meet?*
---------------------------
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Mere Dil Ko Tere Dil Ki Zaroorat Hai - AdiYa FF
RomanceAditya Hooda, a seasoned pilot, is shattered by the sudden loss of Pooja, his wife and childhood friend. But his grief turns into anger when he discovers that Pooja's heart has mysteriously disappeared. Obsessed with this enigma, he embarks on a rel...
