"Ehsaas"~ A Story Of Falling In Love

CHAPTER :- 16

The evening air was cool, a faint breeze carrying the scent of wet earth as Agni walked alongside Ravi ji. At first, he had hesitated to join the walk, unsure of what to expect. But Ravi ji’s gentle request had swayed him. There was something disarming about Diya’s father—his warmth, his humility.

They stopped at a small shop on the way, and Ravi ji bought a handful of chocolates. Agni watched as they continued to the nearby park, where a group of children came running towards Ravi ji with beaming faces. Agni observed silently, standing a little apart, as Ravi ji handed out the chocolates to the children, each of them giggling with delight.

It struck Agni deeply. This is where she gets it from, he thought, a faint smile playing on his lips. Ravi ji’s kindness mirrored Diya’s own—a quiet generosity that expected nothing in return.

They spent an hour at the park, Ravi ji engaging with the children, and Agni quietly reflecting on the man who had raised Diya. As they began heading back home, Agni felt an unexpected sense of calm, a rare moment where life didn’t feel as heavy.The cool evening breeze carried the fading scent of rain as Agni stood frozen in the shadows of the backyard. His eyes were fixed on Diya, who moved gracefully in the center of the small stone-paved area. The soft glow of the setting sun bathed her in a golden hue, casting a halo around her as though the universe itself acknowledged her radiance.

She was teaching a group of children—orphans, he realized—who mirrored her movements with eager but clumsy steps. Her blue anarkali swayed with every turn, and the silver jhumkas at her ears chimed softly with her rhythm. Her laughter, warm and melodic, blended with the faint rustle of leaves and the giggles of the children.

Agni felt a peculiar tightness in his chest, a mix of awe and something deeper—something he couldn’t quite put into words. He had always admired Diya’s passion for dance, but seeing her like this, surrounded by children who adored her, he felt as if he were witnessing a side of her that was even more profound.

She doesn’t just teach them steps, he thought, his eyes tracing her fluid movements. She gives them something far more precious—hope, joy, and a sense of belonging.

The way she moved was captivating, every gesture filled with purpose and grace. But what truly struck him wasn’t the beauty of her dance—it was the kindness in her eyes, the way she knelt to the children’s level, patient and encouraging, even when they faltered.

“Arre nahi,” she said, her voice filled with warmth as she corrected a young girl’s stance. “Your hands need to move like this—soft, like a breeze.” She demonstrated, her fingers gliding through the air with the ease of a painter brushing a canvas.

The little girl tried again, and when she finally got it, Diya clapped her hands with genuine delight. “Perfect! See? I knew you could do it!”

Agni felt his throat tighten. How does she do it? he wondered. How does she make everyone around her feel so seen, so valued?

He watched as one of the boys stumbled, his small frame collapsing onto the stone floor. The boy looked up, his face scrunching with embarrassment, but before he could say a word, Diya crouched down beside him, her expression soft.

“Are you okay?” she asked, brushing the dust off his sleeve.

“I’m sorry, Diya Didi,” the boy mumbled, his voice trembling.

“Sorry?” Diya laughed gently, the sound like a melody in itself. “Do you know what I do when I fall?”

The boy shook his head, his eyes wide.

“I laugh!” she said, throwing her head back in an exaggerated laugh that made the other children giggle. “Because every fall is just a chance to stand up stronger.”