Life is like a rollercoaster,
it has its ups and downs,
but it's your choice whether to scream or enjoy the ride...
When life's rollercoaster throws you off track, do you scream, or do you hold on tight?
For Ira and Rudraksh, the journey is far from...
Pranam:A respectful Hindi greeting meaning "I bow to you" or "salutation".
Khush rho: A colloquial phrase meaning "stay happy" or "be happy".
Mohanthal:A traditional Rajasthani sweet made from gram flour, ghee, and sugar.
-*-*-
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Rudraksh, in his black woolen night pajamas, sprawled across the sofa, legs draped over Vardhaman's lap, eyes fixed on the cricket match. The warm light overhead painted his face in gold, highlighting the sharpness of his features. The same face that once teased and cracked jokes, lighting up with heartfelt laughter, was now too still, too guarded.
Sitting on the floor in white woolen night pajamas, Vardhaman quietly unwrapped the bandages from his brother's feet. His fingers moved with a care born of both habit and fear - fear of hurting him, of saying something that might make him retreat further into silence.
"Bhaiya, tell me if it hurts, okay?" he whispered, glancing up briefly.
"Hm." Rudraksh didn't look away from the screen, chewing absently on his lower lip.
A faint smile tugged at Vardhaman's lips as he lowered his gaze back to his work. He had seen this countless times - his brother lost in the rhythm of a match, as though the clatter of bats and the cheer of the crowd could drown out the noise in his head. Maybe that was why he watched so much cricket lately; maybe in someone else's victory, he could forget his own losses.
Vardhaman's hands slowed as he set the bandages aside and sighed softly.
If silence was the only way his brother allowed love, then silence would have to be enough.
Silence, and the chance to care for him.
"Rudraksh! Rudraksh!"
Rudraksh's eyes flickered, and he started to shift on the sofa, as if to respond to the call, but Vardhaman rested a hand lightly on his feet, holding him back.
Rudraksh hesitated, jaw tight, then gave a short nod and returned his gaze to the flickering TV screen.
With a quiet sigh, Vardhaman rose and stepped toward the door himself, a soft, polite smile curving his lips, silently taking the task upon himself while his brother relaxed.
💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥
"Oh, bhaiya," Vardhaman greeted warmly. "Please come in. Rudraksh bhaiya is in the living room."
Siddharth, in a white blazer and black trousers, approached with an affectionate smile and pulled him into a side hug. "How are you, Maan? How's your studying going?"
Vardhaman returned the hug, smiling. "I'm good, Bhaiya." His eyes flickered toward the third man, and his composure wavered.
Karan's jaw was tight, his face flushed as he stepped forward in a thin, red hoodie and black jeans. "Siddharth, we don't have time for pleasantries." His hand landed on Vardhaman's head, a rough but not unkind pat. "Sorry, buddy. Just a little frustrated."
