This is a short village story from 1980's era.. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤 (𝟏𝟖+) When twenty-year-old Gauri, a naive and soft-spoken village girl, suddenly found herself tied in marriage to Madhav, a twenty-five-year-old shy and gentle man who spent most his days from morning to evening working in the fields, neither of them knew where or how to begin. They were two inexperienced souls, bound by a relationship they didn't fully understand. Gauri had never imagined what kind of husband she wanted, nor had she ever dreamed of love the way stories described it. And Madhav? He was far too absorbed in his farm and his duty toward his widowed mother to think about marriage or women. His life began and ended with the soil beneath his feet and the responsibilities on his shoulders. Two strangers, unaware of love's language, now share the same roof. But destiny had other plans because somewhere in Madhav's past still lived a woman. The woman who once dreamed of a future with him. And when fate decides to bring that past back into his present,will time heal what love could not or will the past come knocking on the door of their fragile new beginning?

⚠️Highly Mature Content⚠️ (18+/21+ Audience only) "Chup chaap humari bitiya se byaah lo, daroga... varna jiss taesh se aaye the naa ussi taesh mein apne jigri dost ki laash saath lekar jaaoge." ("Quietly marry our daughter, officer... or else, the same rage you came here with, you'll return with your best friend's corpse alongside you.") An IPS officer. That's what I am. Stoic, trained to face gunfire without blinking, to stare criminals in the eye. And yet, here I stood in a mud-stained courtyard, stripped of power, cornered by men who didn't fear the law. Is this real? An officer dragged into a pakdua byaah like some helpless boy? With a village girl-barely literate, cloaked in shyness and fragility? Me-a divorced man, father to a one-year-old daughter who waits for me to come home? Nothing about it fit. And yet everything about it was true. Because my best friend-my brother in every sense-sat tied to a chair across from me. His hands bound, his eyes defiant, and three guns pointed to his head. Aarish. Soon to be a father himself. Husband to Suhani, who was as much my sister as blood could make her. What was I supposed to do? Marry or rebel? The choice was never mine. I whispered, almost ashamed: "Main talaaqshuda hoon... aur ek beti ka baap bhi." ("I am divorced... and also the father of a daughter.") She looked at me with steady innocence: "Nahi... ab aap ek shaadi-shuda insaan hai. Aur hum uss bachi ki maa hai." ("No... now you are a married man. And I am that child's mother.") TROPES City Boy × Village Girl IPS × Illiterate Forced Marriage / Pakdua Byaah Second Chance at Love Stepmother Role Found Family Traumatic Past Grumpy × Sunshine Duty vs Desire Single Father Romance Slow Burn Romance Innocence Meets Experience