AKSHAT SINGHANIA - A literature professor in Singania Institute of Arts and Commerce. He is soft and caring person
with a tough exterior, who doesn't believe in love or marriage because of his parent's broken relationship and his ex wife's betrayal...
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Amrit sat on the floor, her mother's old suitcase open in front of her, its contents spilling out like echoes of a life she had clung to all these years. Her hands trembled as she picked up an old dupatta, her mother's favorite scent still faintly lingering on it. Bangles, a comb, a diary, faded photographs.
Akshat entered quietly, finding her sitting amidst the mess, her face pale, her eyes wide in disbelief. His heart clenched seeing her like this.
"Amrit," he said softly, kneeling beside her, reaching out to hold her hand.
"What was she saying??" Her voice rose, a mix of disbelief and anguish. "Why did she say that? Why would she say that?" Her breathing became heavy. "How could she say that to me, Akshat? That maa is not my real mother? That the man I've mourned all my life... the man whose photo I light a diya for every year... wasn't even my father?"
Akshat gently cupped her face, but she shook him off, grabbing an old photo from the suitcase-her five-year-old self sitting on Komal's lap, both smiling. "This is my mother!" she cried, holding it up. "This... this bangle," she said, showing a broken silver piece, "she gave it to me when I got my first periods... she cried with me! She made me feel safe when the world felt so scary, Akshat!"
"Amrit, please... breathe. Just breathe-" he tried, but she stood up suddenly, pacing frantically.
"She is lying! Kritika is lying! She can stoop to any level! She wants to see us shattered!" he reached her and held her arms. "Look at me."
She looked up, her eyes red, glistening with tears, her lips trembling uncontrollably. "I don't know who I am anymore... everything feels like a lie, Akshat. Every moment I spent talking to Maa's photo, every memory I held close like sacred truth-it feels like someone's ripped it all away. How can it not be real?"
He pulled her into his arms and she collapsed against him, sobbing hard, clutching his kurta tightly like he was the only real thing left.
But after a few moments, she slowly pulled away, her cheeks stained with tears, her breath still uneven. Her eyes looked distant, as if she were somewhere else entirely-trapped between memories and this brutal new revelation.
"She said it so confidently, Akshat," Amrit whispered, voice shaking. "It didn't feel like she was just throwing lies. It was like she knew... everything. Like she's known it all along."
Akshat immediately shook his head, stepping closer again. "She was talking rubbish, Amrit. You know Kritika-she can lie without blinking if it means hurting you. Don't let her poison your mind."
