MY BELOVED HEART

Jaaney iss dil ka haal kya hoga agar tera wada wafa hoga...

Soft music threaded the air as she pushed the swing back and forth, the chain whispering with each motion. The lawn seemed to contract around her, narrowing to that small, steady ritual her palms wrapped around cool metal, the fabric of the seat creasing beneath her weight, the soles of her shoes brushing the worn grass.

With every rise and fall, the music laid down a beat, and her feet answered tap, tap like a metronome keeping time. Gradually, the rest of the house slipped out of focus. All that remained was rhythm and motion, the hush between notes, and the quiet certainty of a cadence that asked nothing more than to be repeated

Rain began to pour just as she was about to leave; a strong hand grabbed hers, and they stared at each other as the downpour soaked them both.

The image broke apart all at once.

She was sitting on the swing in her lawn, its chains creaking softly as it swayed back and forth. The rain was gentler here, real, tapping against the leaves and darkening the grass beneath her feet. She let out a slow sigh, aware of how easily her mind slipped away from her surroundings.

Daydreaming again.

She leaned her head back, watching the clouds drift overhead, the rain-soaked scene still vivid in her thoughts, lingering longer than she wanted it to.