𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ💌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ❝ किसी दिलवाली ने... किसी मतवाली ने... ❞ ❀༉‧₊˚. हमें ख़त लिखा है कि हमसे पूछा है... ☾⋆⁺₊✧ 𖹭 के घर कब आओगे... ✧˖° लिखो कब आओगे... 𓂃♡𓂃 ⋆༺𓆩☾𓆪༻⋆ "𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭." He says it like a rule almost like a prayer like something carved into bone. 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ And she nods... even when her heart wants to ask,"And me?" ❀༉‧₊˚. This is not a love story that begins with stolen glances. It begins with family decisions. Horoscopes matched and Steel trunks packed. A wedding under the weight of olive green. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ The Nineties. Landline calls that end too soon. Handwritten letters that smell like ink and longing. Army quarters where wives learn the sound of boots before they learn the rhythm of their husband's breathing. ☾𖤓 They were strangers when the sindoor was placed. Strangers when the regiment called his name louder than she ever could. Strangers... who slowly started choosing each other in the quiet after the bugle call. 𓂃𓂂𓏸♡ He belongs to the nation and She belongs to the vow. And somewhere between salutes and suppressed desires love begins to bloom... not loudly, not rebelliously but devotionally. ❦ This is a story of officers who will always choose the border over the bed. Of wives who will fold their loneliness like a neatly pressed uniform. Of couples who do not fall in love at first sight... but kneel into it, day by day like prayer. 𓇢𓆸 ୨♡୧ Some will fight their own hearts. Some will almost break. Some will whisper, ❝ Stay. ❞ even when they know he will leave at dawn. ✧༺♥༻∞ Because here desire burns. But duty wins. 𓂃☾𓂃 And yet... love does not lose. 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 It transforms. It waits and It worships. 𓆩

❝𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧❞ ᴀꜱʜᴡᴀᴛᴛʜᴀᴍᴀ ♡ ᴋᴀᴜꜱʜɪᴋɪ 𝑨 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚. ˙⋆ ᥫ᭡ ⋆˙ 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕, 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒙 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 He was born a Brahmin, destined to uphold the sacred wisdom of the scriptures, yet fate carved a different path for him. A son of the revered Guru Dronacharya, he mastered the art of war, becoming a warrior unparalleled in skill and ferocity. Turning him into a paradox, as he was both a seeker of knowledge and a harbinger of destruction. While she was Drupad's niece, the sunshine princess of Panchal, a vision of warmth and grace, her presence as radiant as the first light of dawn. She was a dreamer, who carried herself with an effortless charm, her laughter like the tinkling of wind chimes, bringing joy to all who heard it. Happy Reading!