Khusnaseeb hote hain vo log jinhein ishq ho jata hai,

Par jinhein vo ishq na mile unka kya,

Yun toh zindagi thik hi chalti hai par jo iss ishq mein barbaad hue unka kya,

Agar bichadna hi likha tha qismat mein, fir tera milna tha kya,

Jane diya tujhe teri khushi ke liye par fir meri khushi ka kya.

____________________________________

ISHANVI

Ma'am, your father is calling," I heard my PA, Sanya, say from across the office.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" I replied without looking up, my fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard as I finalized the list of summer collection products on my laptop.

"Ma'am, I told Sir that you're occupied, but he said it's an emergency."

She said and I finally lifted my gaze and looked at her. My eyes narrowed slightly.

"Give me the call."

Sanya immediately handed me the phone.

I placed it against my ear.

"Hello, Baba."

Before he could say a word, a shrill voice exploded from the other end.

"You bitch-!"

The scream was so piercing that I instinctively pulled the phone away from my ear.

"You forgot me! You're not even picking up my calls. How can you ignore me? You're so bad, Anvi Mukherjee, I will chop your big fat ass into pieces and will feed them to the crocodiles, do you understand that? Do you even know how long I've been trying to reach you? Can't you check your phone? Are you ignoring me intentionally? How can you do this, Isha? You fucking bitch, I'm going to kill you!"

The moment she finally stopped her endless stream of complaints and abuses, I leaned back in my chair.

"Ho gaya?" I asked calmly.

"Haan, ho gaya!" she shouted again.

Instead of getting annoyed, a small smile found its way onto my lips.

If anyone else had dared to speak to me like that, I would've made sure they regretted it. But she wasn't just anyone.

She was my best friend.

"Now tell me why you've called."

There was a brief pause before she spoke.

"I'm getting married, at Amritsar-- "

"So what?"

"What... do... you... mean by so what?"

"I mean exactly what you heard."

"Ishanvi Mukherjee!" she screamed dramatically. "I'm getting married in 4 days, and you have to attend every single wedding function. I've already spoken to your parents, but apparently you were never home."

I closed my laptop.

"I'm busy. I can't come."

Before I could say anything further, she spoke again.

"Vo bhi aa raha hai shaadi mein."

Silence.

Complete silence.

For a fleeting second, something flickered in my eyes.

A memory.

A wound.

A name I had buried years ago.

But just as quickly, my expression returned to normal.

"I don't care," I said coldly. "I'm busy, and I can't come."

"Is that your final decision?"

"Yes."

"Okay then... bye."

"Hmm. Bye."

I was about to disconnect when her voice stopped me.

"But listen to one thing."

I frowned.

"I'll wait for you. And if you don't come, then I'm never talking to you again. You'll never find me standing beside you."

Before I could respond, the call ended with a sharp beep.

I stared at the blank screen.

Yet only one sentence echoed through my mind.

Vo bhi aa raha hai shaadi mein.

After a long moment, I placed the phone on my desk.

Then I pressed the intercom.

"Sanya."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Bring me a spicy tea chini kam with doodh zyada."

"okay, ma'am."

The line disconnected.

Soon, my tea arrived, and I immersed myself in work once again.

Because money is more important than people.

That's what I had always believed and yes ofcourse money is my only motivation.

But to be honest, I wasn't able to focus on my work. My mind kept wandering, and the mistakes I was making could potentially cause serious damage to the company.

Realizing this, I decided to take a break.

Grabbing my car keys, I headed to the parking lot and drove home.

"Rani, why are you home so early?" Mumma asked the moment she saw me.

"I'm taking leave for one week. Can you please handle the company during that time?"

Her eyebrows shot up.

"But why? You just took leave a few weeks ago. Why do you always act as if you're not interested in the company?"

"You already know that maa."

Replying curtly, I started walking toward the staircase.

"Rani, you're not going anywhere. "I continued climbing, she shouted again.

"Rani! I am still talking to you stop.

"Rani, you've become so mannerless!"

I ignored her words.

It's not that I don't respect her. I do.

But I'm tired.

Tired of hearing the same taunts every single day.

Well, she's my mother-the great Sunanda Mukherjee.

And she's calling me Rani because that's my nickname, given to me by my grandmother. According to her, I was born to rule, born to be a queen.

And honestly?

I agree.

Throwing myself onto the bed, I closed my eyes.

Almost immediately, her words echoed in my head again.

"Vo bhi aa raha hai..."

Then came his face.

As clear as ever.

I opened my eyes instantly and stared at my space-themed ceiling.

I love stars more than the moon.

Do you know why?

At least stars have their own light.

But the moon?

It shines by borrowing someone else's light.

Firstly, there is no peace in this family. And now, there is one more thing that has stolen whatever little sleep I had left.

Getting up from the bed, I walked toward the balcony.

Pulling out my phone from its case, my gaze fell on the picture tucked inside it.

It was a photograph of me and a boy.

A boy so handsome, so elegant.

Bright like the stars and warm like a field of sunflowers beneath the golden sun.

And I had wanted to be his sun.

But perhaps fate had written something else for us.

The picture was from my BBA college days. He had presented me with the Miss Fresher award and clicked a picture with me afterward.

look at my madness-I still carry that photograph with me.

Or I probably will until my last breath.

Because love isn't that easy to end.

Well...

But I gave up on you, Mr. Singh. I have no chance I know..

"Placing it back to my cover ,

I opened a flight-booking app, and booked a ticket for today.

7:45 PM. Bangalore to Amritsar.

A sigh escaped my lips.

Afterward, I went to freshen up.

Once I was done, I headed toward my walk-in wardrobe to pack my luggage.

As soon as I entered, I heard some rustling sounds.

Slowly walking inside, I found my father selecting clothes and carefully packing them into a suitcase.

"Baba, ki hochhe eta?", I asked and he turned to me in amusement but then replied.

(Dad, What's going on?)

"Kichu na, ma moni. Tumi tomar bandhobir biye bari te jabe, tar jonno ami amar sona maayer jinishpotro gulo guchiye dichhi."

(Translation:- Nothing, my dear daughter. You're going to your friend's wedding, so I'm helping my precious girl pack her things.)

I simply stared at him. While he again started doing what he was doing now,

Out of everyone in this house, Baba was perhaps the only person who never demanded anything from me.

Going towards him, I hugged him tightly. "I love you, Baba. You're such a cutie pie, you know."

He hugged me back. "I love you too, my sona maa. Now help me. I know you're going to Ruhani's wedding."

"Hmm, so she told you to do all this?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Yes, because fathers always listen to their daughters," Papa said, giving me a wink.

"Achha ji."

"Haan ji."

"Baba, your wife told you not to go anywhere," I complained.

"Don't worry. I will handle my wife, sona maa. You go and enjoy. I will handle your fashion company."

"Thank you, Baba! Love you so muchhh! Muaah!"

It was 6:30 p.m., and I was all packed and ready to leave. Baba and I were crossing the hall when suddenly my brother came in front of us.

So, where is this Motu-Patlu duo going?" he teased.

Ahh, I forgot to tell you-here, the Motu is me and the Patlu is Baba. I'm not that fat; I'm just a little chubby because of PCOD and my never-ending love for food. I try to control it, but you know... once a foodie, always a foodie.

"Chal hatt, kaale bille! Rasta mat kaat," I said.

"Aye, kumdi mukhi! Kalo bidal kake bolchi? Aami tor babar baba. Keu baba ke ei rokom bole?"

(Translation: "Hey, pumpkin face! Who are you calling a black cat? I am your father's father. Does anyone talk to their father like that?")

"Hmm, ar aami tor baba," Baba said while pulling his ear. "What are you doing awake at this hour?"

(Translation: "And I am your father.")

"I am giving a gift for Ruhani Di. Take it, fatty, and give it to your bestie," he said with a sheepish smile.

I wondered what it could be. He always play pranks on her.

"What's in this box?"

"It's something useful. And I swear on Baba-you will not open it, okay?" he said.

So I simply put it inside my bag.

Just then, Mom came downstairs.and my inner soul groaned,

Abe yaar, inhi ki kami thi.

As hard as I tried to ignore her, I knew she would somehow manage to ruin my mood again.

"You're going, that's good. But come back within one week. Shoumik is coming from the UK to see you."

"Hmm, ta hole toh aro ektu deri kore ashbo," I mocked.

(Translation: "Then I guess I'll come back even later.")

"Dare to do that, and I'll come there myself with Shoumik to bring you back."

"Okay, okay! I'm already getting late. You people are just too much. Let's go, Papa, or we'll miss the flight."

So, this was my family. Wait, it's not complete yet-some people are still missing. Actually, they went to visit Haridwar. When I come back from the wedding, I'll introduce them to all of you.

Well, Papa dropped me off at the airport-not inside the airport, obviously. He actually waited there until my flight took off.

My flight landed at exactly 11:30 p.m.

The wedding celebrations were taking place at the groom's house, and honestly, I had no idea where I was supposed to go. So, I decided to call Ruhani.

I wanted to surprise her, but...

Leave it.

I called her once, and she didn't pick up. The second time, she cut the call.

The audacity.

I tried again and again, and finally, she answered. Before I could even say a word, she blurted out,

"Main tujhse bahut naraz hoon, behen ki pakodi! Main tujhse kabhi baat nahi karungi!"

("I'm very angry with you, you dumpling of a sister! I'm never talking to you again!")

"Okay, listen to me. Listen to me first-"

But she wasn't listening at all, which only fueled my anger further.

"Don't ever try to call me again, Anvi Mukherjee!"

"Khabardaar agar call kaata toh! Ungliyaan kaat doongi teri!" I threatened through gritted teeth.

("Don't you dare cut the call! I'll chop your fingers off!")

"Aye, dhamki kise de rahi hai?"

("Hey, who are you threatening?")

"Chuppp! Bilkul chuppp!"

("Quiet! Absolutely quiet!")

Silence.

Complete silence from the other side.

Only some soft music was playing in the background.

"I'm at the airport. Now tell me where your would-be husband's house is."

"Whatttt? You came?"

A second later, she practically screamed.

"Anviiiii! I love you!"

"Haan, ho gaya? Now tell me where I have to come."

("Done? Finished? Now tell me where I need to come.")

"Wait, I'm sending someone to pick you up."

"No. Just send me the address. I'll come myself."

"Arey, wait na! I'm sending him to pick you up."

"Arre yaar, I told you-"

The call disconnected.

And I knew she wasn't going to pick up again.

God knows whom she's planning to send to pick me up.

Just then, my stomach growled loudly in protest.

Right.

Food first.

I stepped out of the airport in search of something to eat and soon found a restaurant nearby.

Without wasting another second, I ordered a plate of hot chole kulche.

Because no matter how angry you're ,food can step down the temprature of every emotion,

Soon, my order arrived, and I got busy enjoying my chole kulche.

Just then, a weather alert popped up on my phone:

"Moderate thunderstorms with surface winds (gusting up to 50-60 kmph), accompanied by rain, are very likely to occur at many places over Amritsar and nearby areas in the next three hours."

It's going to rain.

Good.

Vaise bhi kaafi garmi ho rakhi thi.

(Besides, it had become unbearably hot.)

After finishing the first plate, I ordered another one. I hadn't eaten anything since morning.

Just then, my phone rang.

"Ani"

Ruhani.

I immediately picked up the call.

"Hello? Hello, Ruhani?"

"Hello, Anvi! Where are you? Hello, Anvii! Hello! Awaaz aa rahi hai meri?"

("Can you hear me?")

"Haan, aa rahi hai. Hello?"

I checked the signal.

One bar.

Of course.

"Oh Godddd..."

I looked at the half-eaten bhatura still lying on my plate.

No.

I couldn't leave it.

I decided to finish eating first.

Whoever was waiting could wait a little longer.

Food was important.

After finishing my meal and paying the bill, I stepped outside and tried calling Ani back.

But the call wouldn't connect.

It was already raining.

Three hours passed this quickly?

Seriously, can't the weather department send these warnings a little earlier?

Bloody fellows.

I kept trying to reconnect the call.

Then finally-

It connected.

"Hello, Ruhani?"

Her voice crackled through the speaker.

"There's low connection. I've sent you his number. Call him. He's already waiting for you..."

"Okay, okay..."

The call disconnected again.

I checked the message she had sent and dialed the number.

The ring kept going.

Pick up, dude.

Pick it up.

Searching for better network coverage, I unknowingly walked closer to the roadside.

Then the call connected.

"Hello?"

My heartbeat instantly rose.

That voice.

Even through the poor connection, I knew that voice.

"Hello? Can you hear me, Ishaanvi?"

I froze.

Completely froze.

I wanted to say something.

Anything.

But no words came out.

The call disconnected.

For a moment, it felt as if my heart would burst out of my chest.

The whirlwind inside my mind came to a sudden halt.

Then my phone rang again.

The same unknown number.

My hands trembled slightly.

I answered.

And once again, that familiar voice came through the speaker.

"Hello, Ishaanvi? Can you hear me? I'm waiting by the roadside."

The rain continued to fall around me.

But suddenly, I couldn't hear anything except the sound of my own heartbeat.

"Hello, Ishaanvi, please answer."

"H-Haan... haan..."

"Where are you?"

"A-At... the roadside."

"I'm wearing a white shirt and grey jeans. Can you see me?"

I looked around through the curtain of rain.

And there he was.

Standing in the middle of the rain without an umbrella.

I could only see his back, but I recognized him instantly.

Is he a fool?

He's going to catch a cold.

Without thinking, I ran towards him and held my leather handbag over his head to shield him from the rain.

He turned around.

The moment our eyes met, my heartbeat shot up like a bullet train.

"Are you Ishaanvi Mukherjee?" he asked.

And in that instant, I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces.

He didn't recognize me.

Not even a little.

Had I mattered so little in his life that he had forgotten me completely?

"Hello, Miss? Can you hear me?"

"Ah... y-yeah. I am Ishaanvi."

"Give me your luggage. My car is over there. Go and sit inside."

He reached for my suitcase.

But even though I heard every word, it felt as if I had suddenly gone deaf.

The rain kept falling between us.

"Ishaanvi, are you okay?" he asked, his brows furrowing slightly.

"H-Haan... haan..."

That was all I could manage to say.

Instead of going inside the car, I continued holding my handbag over his head, trying to shield him from the rain.

While grabbing my luggage, he looked at me with a puzzled expression.

"What are you doing? Go inside."

"You'll catch a cold too, won't you?"

A small smile appeared on his face at my answer.

Then we walked towards the car together.

The rain washed over everything around us.

Even my unseen tears seemed to disappear into it.

Once we settled inside, he started the car and turned on the heater.

I tried to regain control over my emotions, but the nervousness refused to leave.

Why is this happening?

I don't want this.

"Ishaanvi, please wear your seatbelt."

"Oh... okay."

I quickly fastened it.

The drive began.

A song started playing through the speakers. It was probably already playing before because he had simply resumed it from the screen.

"Ishq mubarak... dard mubarak..."

Seriously?

Out of all the songs in the world, this was the one he had to play?

I turned my face towards the window and watched the raindrops race down the glass.

Meanwhile, my traitorous heart was busy replaying every memory it should have forgotten years ago.

I closed my eyes, hoping to get some rest.

But the very next line hit me like a punch straight to the chest.

"Aye mere dil, mubarak ho... yahi toh pyaar hai..."

And suddenly, it felt as if my entire body had been thrown to the ground like a ragged doll.

The scenes...

The words...

The memories I had buried years ago...

Everything started flashing before my eyes.

My first day of college.

That stupid dance with him.

The slow-burning feeling that had taken root inside my heart.

That silent yearning I had carried for years.

The day I was finally going to confess my feelings.

That room.

That bed.

Him.

And that girl.

Every memory came rushing back with brutal force.

"Who the hell are you to show me this attitude?"

"I don't care about that... I love it."

"You're my life."

"Let's have a dance with your senior."

"I love you, Mahi."

One after another.

Like shards of broken glass cutting through my mind.

Then another voice echoed in my head.

A voice I had spent years trying to forget.

"The Ishq Mubarak was so loud that you ignored the Dard Mubarak."

My fingers curled tightly into my palms.

The words kept tearing my mind apart.

They echoed inside my ears.

Again.

And again.

And again.

As if someone had trapped me inside those memories and refused to let me escape.

"Stop... just fucking stop this stereo... or I'll break it!"

I shouted.

My fist was only inches away from the screen when he caught my wrist midway.

"Isha..."

The word made me freeze.

If I had wanted to, I could have punched the screen before he had the chance to stop me.

But it wasn't his grip that stopped me.

It was the name.

I looked at him immediately.

"What did you just say?"

I asked, staring at him.

For a moment, I wondered if I had heard him wrong.

Did he really just call me Isha?

"You have a lot of anger, girl," he said with a small giggle.

I didn't say anything.

Was he trying to avoid my question?

"By the way, are you okay?" he asked, glancing at me. "If you didn't like the song, you could've just told me."

I looked away.

"It's okay. It's just..."

My voice softened.

"I have some bad memories attached to that song."

I thought he will give some expression, shock guilt but no.।

All he gave was..

"Hmm."

He simply nodded and changed the song.

Soon, a Punjabi track filled the silence inside the car.

And after that...

Neither of us spoke.

We finally reached our destination.

Hmm...

The bungalow was beautifully decorated. It was huge. Man would be so richi rich.

The moment I stepped out of the car, my eyes landed on Ruhani, who was standing near the main gate.

And the second she saw me-

She practically exploded with excitement.

"ANVIIIII!"

I barely had time to react before she came running towards me and threw herself into my arms.

The force of her hug made me stumble backward until my back hit the car door.

"Ohhh my Goddd, Anviii! You're finally here!"

She planted a loud kiss on my cheek.

"Do you even know how much I've missed you?"

I laughed and hugged her back.

"I missed you too, babu."

"Liar! Liar!" she accused immediately. "You didn't miss me at all. You don't pick up my calls, you never came to meet me, not even once in the last six freaking years!"

"I'm still angry with you, okay? I won't talk to you. You're a very bad person."

I joined my hands dramatically.

"I'm sorry, meri maa."

"Sorry se kaam cholbe na."

(Translation: "Sorry won't be enough.")

"Tujhe meri shaadi mein dance karna padega."

("You'll have to dance at my wedding.")

"But-"

"No buts. Shut up. You have to."

"Okay, okay."

"Good girl."

Before I could say anything else, a male voice called out from behind us.

"Ruhi, Mumma is calling you inside."

I looked over Ruhani's shoulder.

And instantly recognized him.

No way.

"Anubhav Bhai!"

He grinned.

"Oye! Bhai nahi, jiju bol. Jiju! Tere hone wale jija ji hain."

("Hey! Not brother-call me brother-in-law. I'm your future brother-in-law.")

My eyes widened.

"Whattt? You two are getting married?"

Ruhani immediately blushed.

"Yes, babe. We are."

I grabbed her cheeks and pinched them lovingly.

"Oh my God! I'm so happy for you!"

And I truly was.

She was marrying the love of her life.

After everything they had gone through, she deserved every bit of happiness. Ruhani was an orphan and after she met Anubhav bhai he was the only person ever exist in her world whom she can say home,

"Arey, Ishaanvi!"

Anubhav stepped forward and pulled me into a warm hug.

Back in college, he was the one who always saved me from the countless disasters and scandals I created.

Honestly, he was like an elder brother to me.

"How are you, Anubhav Bhai?" I asked with a smile.

"I'm good. What about you?"

"I'm doing well."

He nodded before moving to stand beside Ruhani.

Then his eyes shifted toward the man standing quietly behind us.

"Hey, Avi, do you recognize her? She's-"

His answer came instantly cutting anubhav in mid. Cold enough to freeze every nerves and emotions of me,

"NO"

"I don't. Who is she?"

____________________________________