Iqraar

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The temple courtyard was alive with the soft hum of devotees, their prayers whispered into the morning air as the sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the stone floor. Devyani Singh Raizada had always found peace in this sacred space. It had always been her sanctuary, a place where she could feel connected to her past even if she hadn't lived around here. She visited here exactly once a year, to be precise. It was always the same—the same rituals, the same prayers. For Devyani and her grand daughter Anjali, it was a time of remembrance, a chance to reflect on the past and honor the memory of the ones they had lost. But for her grandson Arnav, the visit was nothing more than a painful duty, one he fulfilled only for the sake of his family.

The temple was positioned on the edge of a small hill in the village of Laxmi nagar, a little outside Lucknow. Standing at the temple's precipice where the rituals had just concluded, Devyani watched as Arnav disappeared into the distance, his broad shoulders stiff with tension. He had left as soon as the rituals were over, barely saying a word to anyone.

Anjali came to stand beside her grandmother, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "Nani. He's gone already?"

Nani nodded, her eyes still on the path where her Arnav had vanished. "You know him. He doesn't care for these visits. He only does it for us."

Anjali smiled wistfully. "He never liked coming here. Not since..."

Nani rested a hand on her granddaughter's arm, gently squeezing. "It's hard for him, Anjali bitiya. Hard for all of us." She paused, glancing back at the courtyard. "One day, it will all be fine."

Devyani wasn't sure who she was consoling. As they stood in silence, a group of children ran past them, their laughter ringing in the air as they raced toward the courtyard. Both the women followed the sound, their eyes catching sight of a young woman standing waiting for the children. Across the courtyard, near the steps of the temple, the children gathered, their bright laughter piercing the stillness of the morning.

Soon, the sound of classical music filled the air and the children were moving in rhythm, following the graceful movements of the young woman standing before them.

Devyani paused, her curious eyes narrowing as she watched the scene unfold.

The young woman was guiding the children through a dance—her hands moving fluidly, her body poised with the elegance of someone who had practiced for years. Devyani's heart softened at the sight. The woman's face was serene, her eyes focused on the children, her lips curving into a gentle smile as she corrected their postures with encouraging words.

There was something captivating about her. Something... different.

As she watched the scene unfold, Nani's eyes glimmered with a warmth Anjali hadn't seen in a while.

Devyani moved closer, her cane tapping softly on the stone as she approached the edge of the courtyard, far enough not to intrude but close enough to observe. The woman—no, the girl, for she couldn't have been much older than twenty—danced like she was in a world of her own. Her simple, traditional clothes set her apart, and she moved with a grace and ease that belied her humble appearance.

The children, entranced by her movements, mimicked her steps with varying degrees of success, but the girl didn't seem to mind. Each misstep was met with patience, each error corrected with a smile that seemed to warm the very air around her. She was like a beacon of light—soft, inviting, and full of compassion.

Devyani's eyes glistened as she continued watching, a sense of familiarity tugging at her heart. This girl reminded her of someone. Her mind raced through the faces of the past until it clicked—her own daughter had once danced like that, her heart and soul poured into every movement. The thought stirred something deep within her, a recognition of the same purity, the same devotion.