Yeh Mera Deewanapan Hai🍂🏵️🍂

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Present Time -Year 2024

After 25 Years

The first light of dawn crept through the heavy curtains of Brijraj and Sangeeta's room in the Maheshwari mansion, casting a soft, pale glow over the space.

It's been 25 years.

Time flew in seconds.

Pune's morning breeze, cool and refreshing, slipped through the open window, bringing with it the faint scent of wet earth and the distant sounds of a city slowly awakening.

Sangeeta stirred first, her eyes fluttering open as she instinctively reached for Brijraj's side of the bed, only to find it empty and cold.

It had become a regular occurrence; Brijraj, often up before dawn, would leave early, either lost in work or in his own thoughts, long before she could share a morning moment with him.

She sighed, pulling her shawl around her shoulders as she sat up, taking a moment to gaze out at the sprawling garden visible from their window.

Dew glistened on the leaves, catching the morning light, and the sight of it brought a small, fleeting smile to her face.

The room was grand yet understated, with dark wood furniture, intricate tapestries on the walls, and plush bedding-a mix of tradition and understated elegance, much like the family itself once was.

She rose quietly, moving to straighten his side of the bed, smoothing the covers where he had slept, her hands lingering a moment as if hoping to draw in some of his presence.

Outside, the faint clinking of dishes and the low hum of morning activity in the kitchen echoed faintly through the hallways.

Sangeeta could hear Riya and Jiya stirring in their rooms down the corridor, their soft giggles and chatter filtering through, bringing a momentary lightness to her heart.

Despite the silence between her and Brijraj, her daughters' voices filled her with purpose, grounding her amid the emptiness.

Brushing off her thoughts, she took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day settling onto her, but in her mind, she made a silent promise-to keep moving forward, to hold onto the beauty of this morning.

❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

The garden was still cloaked in the early morning mist, the soft scent of jasmine and dew mingling in the air as Brijraj sat on the familiar stone bench beneath the large neem tree.

It had been his routine for years now, a sacred ritual that allowed him a few precious moments alone before the house awoke with its usual chaos.

He would come here, sit silently, and then gaze up at the windows of his bedroom, imagining Sangeeta still in bed, peaceful and unaware of his lingering gaze.

He had never been able to fully express it to her, but in these quiet moments, he allowed himself to acknowledge his love and respect for her, buried beneath years of silence and distance.

As he sat there, memories washed over him.

Twenty-five years-a lifetime of change had unfolded in that time, and yet, it felt like a blink.

He could still recall Sambhav, a boisterous four-year-old, clutching his hand and demanding to play in this very garden.

And Shruti, a shy, doe-eyed girl, had grown into a beautiful woman who, despite her silent strength, often bore the weight of their fractured family dynamic.