Unbinding Tradition

126. The Price of Goodbye 😔

Wow! So many comments in the previous chapter. Well; thanks. I enjoyed reading everyone's comments.

So comment dher sara in this chapter too. 200 must be the target. 😉

The late afternoon sun loomed hazily over the dusty silhouette of the railway station, casting long golden shadows on the platform lined with chipped red benches and faded signs. The air smelt of rusted iron, kerosene oil, and distant coal smoke. Old transistor radios crackled near the tea stall, and somewhere, a stationmaster's whistle pierced the thick warmth of the day.

Jiminee stepped out of the black Ambassador car, her feet trembling as they touched the stone slabs of the platform. Her soft mojaris made hardly a sound, but her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Her eyes scanned the thinning crowd-laborers with cloth sacks, women wrapped in cotton sarees holding tin tiffins, a few college boys laughing too loudly.

She clutched the end of her dupatta tightly. Her heart fluttered like a trapped sparrow in a brass cage.

And then-
A hand landed on her shoulder. Firm. Familiar.

She turned.

Ishaan.

He stood before her, a little disheveled, his shirt partially untucked, his face wearing that same crooked smile she once found charming.

Without a word, he pulled her into an embrace, burying his face into her neck.

Ishaan- Jiminee... God, you came. You actually came...

His arms wrapped around her tightly, almost possessively.

Jiminee's hands hovered for a second before embracing him slowly, uncertainly.

After what felt like a minute too long, she pulled away slightly. Ishaan cupped her cheek with both hands.

Ishaan- How are you? (he whispered, his voice coated in longing)

Jiminee didn't answer. She only smiled faintly-more out of politeness than affection.

He leaned in, gently brushing his forehead to hers.

Ishaan- You've grown even more beautiful. But your eyes... they look sad. You're not happy, are you? Not truly. Not with them.

She looked down.

Ishaan took that as confirmation.

Ishaan- Jiminee... (he said, his voice soft but insistent) those people... they don't see you the way I do. They've trapped you in gold chains and are calling it love. But I know you, remember? I know your dreams. I know what your laughter sounds like when it's free. You were never meant to live behind walls.

Jiminee's fingers twitched.

Ishaan- And your Mama-sa... you think he loves you, but he doesn't. He just wants to control you. That man he's chosen for you? You don't even know him. He won't value your fire, your softness, your dreams... he'll suffocate you. Slowly. Quietly.

He took her hands in his.

Ishaan- But not me. I'll never let you fade, Jiminee. Never. Come with me. Let's run away from all this. To London. Far from their rules, their rituals, their narrow minds. You and I. That's all we need.

He pulled her gently forward.

Ishaan- You don't deserve this life, Jimi. You deserve freedom. Peace. And love-not the kind your family throws at you with conditions, but real love. The kind I've always given you.

Jiminee's throat felt dry.

Before she could utter a word, a stern voice broke their bubble.

"No. She's not going anywhere."