What if these incidents happen/ed in Prabhas and Sweety's lives?!
This book is for readers who wish to set free their wildest assumptions/imaginations and hope to see #Pranushka together forever.
All sequences published in this book are make-believe...
Plot: If you are reading this story, it means you love Prabhas and Anushka. Do you dream about them living together and settling in with their own kids? Anushka, a loving but stringent mother and Prabhas, a coddling father. What if they were a perfect family?
It was a lazy, summer afternoon in the heart of the garden city, Bengaluru. Prabhas was shooting back-to-back movies, and his tight schedule seldom gave room for relaxation. The production company that he had signed three projects with, Hombale Films, was sailing the success boat, with their magnum opus Salaar 2 being a breakthrough. As a token of appreciation and admiration, they gifted him a lavish, two-story penthouse close to their office.
Prabhas threw himself on the recliner after a heavy lunch on his cheat day and adjusted the footrest to seat level. No staff, no phonecalls, and most importantly, no meetings for the whole week. He was on cloud nine. A cool, gentle breeze blew from his rooftop garden, where he planted varities of flowers, herbs, and certain vegetables. He switched on the television and, much to his horror, played a Disney princess song. He quickly muted and sighed, relieved that no one was around. The silence, however, did not last too long.
"Pappaaaa!"
Prabhas turned to find his hyperactive three-year-old, holding a glittery tiara in one hand, running to him from her room. She was wearing her favorite Rapunzel costume—a satin pink and gold ball gown.
"Mmm vacchindi," he chuckled, setting the remote aside, and stretched his arms to the right to scoop her up onto his lap. Once he did, he kissed her chubby cheeks, as though he would bite them off. His moustache tickled her face, making her loudly giggle—his favorite sound of all. He faked an expression of hurt when she pulled his moustache, to which she clapped her hands, and the duo laughed again. He fixed the tiara on her silky hair that had already grown to her shoulders.
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She was a replica of her dad—wavy hair, long fingers, little almond-shaped eyes, and a killer smile.
"Onte bujji paapa, padukoleda?" He could not stop adoring her.
She moved her head sideways, indicating a 'no' while deeply concentrating on locking a bead bracelet on her wrist. With the help of her dad she finally could, and proudly flashed the pretty rings and bracelets at him.
"You look just like Cinderella!" he smiled, pinching her cheeks.
"I'm Rapunzel, Pappa," she corrected.
"Oh, huh, yes, of course." Poor darling could not keep track of all the princesses his daughter stanned. Her wardrobe was full of costumes of different ones, and she demanded matching accessories for each princess outfit. He even bought her a brand new play-castle that his helpers erected in the garden. Almost every day at home was Halloween.
"Can we see Tangled?"
He knew it was a Disney afternoon the moment that song played. However, he would do anything in the world to make his precious toddler happy. "Whatever you want bujji."
