Niharika Verma is a stunning semi-classical dancer who wants nothing more than to travel the world, but the shackles of her dreadful past keep her grounded. On the other end, Asia's well-known businessman and CEO of Rajvanshi Industries, "The Maanve...
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Author's POV
The Diwali festivities were in full swing, and the Rajvanshi’s household was bustling with excitement. But in the midst of it all, Our Noorakshi sat under her little closet, frowning deeply as she sifted through her dresses. Silk, chiffon, and cotton lay strewn across the room as the young girl huffed, utterly unsatisfied with the choices before her.
Chirag, sat nearby with wide eyes,and shocked expressions holding up a peach dress with little sequins, as if this one might finally be acceptable. "Nool, see! This one’s shiny," he offered, his voice tinged with innocence. But Noorakshi merely looked at it with a pout and tossed it aside dramatically, murmuring, “Not petty en-of!” ( Not pretty enough)
Maanveer, kneeling beside his little girl, picked up a lavender lehenga, eyes soft with patience. “Noor, how about this one? You look like a little fairy in it,” he said, trying to coax her into a smile.
But Noorakshi wasn’t impressed. Her tiny face scrunched up, eyes glistening with frustration. She shook her head vigorously, causing her thick curls to bounce as she pushed aside every single dress, one by one, like a queen dismissing her subjects.
Seeing his niece’s displeasure, Vivaan crouched down with a playful grin. “Princess Noor, what if Chachu gets you a tiara? You can wear it with any dress you like, and everyone will call you Princess Noor!”
For a brief moment, Noorakshi considered this. But then, as if realizing she still wasn’t satisfied, she wailed out, “Nooo, I wot my drss!” Her lips trembled, and her eyes sparkled with incoming tears. ( I want my dress)
Aarav joined in, amused yet concerned. He waved another dress with intricate embroidery in front of her. “Look, Noor, this one is like the dresses from the stories Dadu tells you. A real princess wore this, I swear!”
“ No, no, no….” the drama was far from over. Noorakshi broke into full-blown tears, her tiny fists pounding the floor, making everyone around her scramble even more. Her grandfather, ever the gentle patriarch, sat beside her with a smile and a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Betu, Diwali won’t be as beautiful if my little Noorakshi is sad. How about we find a way to make your dress even more special, hmm?”
But our Noorakshi, the star of the evening, wasn’t done just yet. She buried her face in her hands, peeking between her fingers, watching the men around her scramble like her little loyal subjects. Her tears slowed as she watched them gather dresses, searching every corner, their exasperation growing.
Suddenly Niharika walked into the room and stopped, her eyes widening at the sight of dresses thrown all over the place. There were fabrics scattered across the floor, and every man in the room looked helplessly exhausted.
“What’s going on here?” she asked, hands on her hips, her tone sharp.
All eyes turned to little Noorakshi. Seizing the moment, she quickly put on her best innocent face and pointed at the men. “Mumma!”
