Part 4 - The Face Behind the Words

A week after the poetry competition, Preeta was sitting in her room staring at the trophy she had won.

Beside it lay a letter.

A letter she had written countless times and torn apart before finally gathering the courage to send.

It was addressed to Sagar.

Not the famous poet.

But the man behind the poetry.

The man whose eyes carried silent emotions.

The man she could not stop thinking about.

Dear Sagar,

Your poems have always touched my heart.

After meeting you, I realized that the sensitivity in your words comes from the goodness in your soul.

Thank you for inspiring people like me.

Yours sincerely,

Preeta

Days later, a reply arrived.

Preeta almost dropped the envelope in excitement.

With trembling fingers, she opened it.

Dear Preeta,

A poet writes thousands of words, hoping someone somewhere understands them.

Your performance made me feel understood.

Thank you.

Your friend,

Sagar

A bright smile spread across her face.

And thus began a beautiful friendship.

Weeks passed.

Letters traveled regularly between them.

Sometimes they discussed poetry.

Sometimes dreams.

Sometimes life.

Neither realized how eagerly they waited for the next letter.

One evening...

Rishab sat in his room writing.

Dear Preeta,

You once asked why I write sad poetry.

Perhaps because happiness is easy to live with, but pain is easier to understand.

What is your greatest dream?

He folded the letter.

The next reply came two days later.

Dear Sagar,

My greatest dream is to help people who never got the opportunity to study.

Education can change lives.

What about yours?

Rishab smiled while reading.

He immediately wrote back.

My dream is similar.

Rishab gets the next letter from Preeta.

Dear Sagar,

I believe our letter brought us closer.

I want literature to reach those who cannot afford books.

Let's work together on such a project.

Preeta's eyes sparkled after reading those words.

One afternoon, another envelope arrived at Luthra House.

The moment Rishab saw the familiar handwriting, a smile appeared on his face.

It was from Preeta.

He carefully opened the envelope.

A letter slipped out.

Along with it came a newspaper photo cutting and a small gift box.

Curious, Rishab unfolded the letter.

Dear Sagar,

Today I am sending you something special.

Enclosed is the newspaper clipping from the poetry competition at which I received the trophy.

Whenever I look at it, I remember the day our friendship began.

I am also sending a small gift.

I hope you like it.

There is one more thing.

In my room, I have a photo frame that has remained empty for a very long time.

For some reason, I feel that your photograph belongs there.

Today I am sending you my photograph and would appreciate yours in return.

Please don't disappoint me.

Help me complete that photo frame.

Waiting eagerly.

Your friend,

Preeta

Rishab unfolded the newspaper cutting.

There stood Preeta on the stage, smiling proudly while holding the trophy.

Attached to the cutting was a passport-sized photograph.

His eyes lingered on it.

Then he opened the gift box.

Inside was a silver chain.

A customized pendant hung from it.

The name engraved on it was:

SAGAR

For several moments, Rishab stared at it.

No one had ever given him something so personal.

A strange warmth filled his heart.

Slowly, he opened his drawer.

Inside lay several photographs of himself.

For the first time, he seriously considered sending one.

His fingers picked up a photograph.

Then suddenly...

Simar's words echoed in his mind.

"You may be a Luthra today, but everything you have belongs to this family."

"People respect the surname, not you."

"Without the Luthras, who is Rishab?"

His smile faded.

He looked once more at Preeta's photograph.

What if she began seeing him differently after learning he was Rishab Luthra?

What if she stopped seeing Sagar?

What if she started seeing only the wealth, the status, and the famous surname?

No.

He wasn't ready.

Slowly, he returned his photograph to the drawer.

Then he sat down and began writing.

Dear Preeta,

Thank you for the beautiful gift.

The pendant shall always remain precious to me.

And thank you for trusting me with your photograph.

You look exactly the way I imagined—warm, sincere, and full of life.

As for my photograph...

Please forgive me.

There are some introductions that destiny should make in its own time.

Perhaps someday, when fate permits, I shall stand before that empty frame myself.

Until then, let our friendship continue through words.

Your friend,

Sagar

When Preeta received the reply, disappointment touched her face for a brief moment.

But as she read the letter again, her smile returned.

Especially the line:

"Perhaps someday, when fate permits, I shall stand before that empty frame myself."

That sentence remained in her thoughts for days.

Several nights later, she found herself unable to sleep.

Finally, she sat down and wrote another letter.

Dear Sagar,

I have been trying to write this letter for three days.

Every time I start, I end up tearing the page.

Perhaps because I don't fully understand what I am feeling.

Earlier, I used to wait for your letters.

Now I find myself counting the days between them.

Earlier, your poems made me smile.

Now even your name does.

Whenever the postman arrives, my heartbeat becomes faster.

Whenever your letter reaches me, I read it more than once.

And whenever I don't hear from you, something feels incomplete.

I don't know what this feeling is.

Maybe it is friendship.

Maybe it is admiration.

Or perhaps it is something that poetry understands better than people do.

All I know is that your words have become a part of my day.

And that empty photo frame still waits patiently for you.

Your friend,

Preeta

As Rishab read the letter days later, his eyes stopped at one particular line.

"Whenever the postman arrives, my heartbeat becomes faster."

For the first time, his own heartbeat did the same.

The following afternoon, Rishab and Karan were having coffee at a luxury hotel.

Rishab was busy reviewing business documents. At the same time, he was lost in Preeta's thoughts but happy. However, Karan doesn't fail to notice that.

Karan: What's the matter? Today, you look lost but happy. I guess you fell in love with a lady.

Rishab smiles, "He said, in your company, anything can happen to me except for falling in love."

Suddenly, he sees a lady sitting opposite an elderly lady in a seat.

"Bhai," Karan sighed.

"You know, one day these files will become jealous of me."

Rishab didn't look up.

"Why?"

"Because you spend more time with them than with your family."

Rishab smirked.

"At least the files don't give me headaches."

Karan was about to reply when his eyes suddenly stopped at a nearby table.

Immediately, a grin spread across his face.

"There."

Rishab looked up.

He asked, "What now?"

Karan pointed discreetly.

Karan replied, "See that girl?"

Rishab glanced briefly.

Then returned to his file.

"So?"

"So?" Karan repeated dramatically. "Within ten minutes, she'll be in my arms."

Rishab calmly closed the file and said, "No."

Karan frowned.

"No?"

Rishab replied, "You'll get beaten up."

Karan laughed loudly. He said, "You have no faith in me."

Rishab: I have years of experience with you.

Ignoring the warning, Karan stood up.

Karan: Watch and learn.

Rishab leaned back in his chair.

This was going to be entertaining.

Karan immediately began pretending to be blind.

Stretching his hands in front of him, he stumbled dramatically across the restaurant.

A few moments later—

Crash!

He "accidentally" fell toward the young woman.

"Oh!"

The girl immediately stood up.

"Are you alright?"

Karan nodded helplessly.

"I am so sorry."

"I couldn't see."

The elderly lady's expression softened.

"Poor boy."

The young woman gently supported him and took him to his seat, where Rishab was sitting.

She said, "Please be careful."

Across the hall, Rishab shook his head.

Unbelievable.

The elderly lady smiled warmly.

"Such a handsome young man."

"What a tragedy."

"He is blind."

Karan almost smiled in victory.

Then disaster arrived.

The waiter stopped beside the table.

"Blind?"

Everyone looked at him.

The waiter pointed at Karan.

"Madam, he isn't blind."

Karan's face fell.

The waiter continued happily.

"This is Karan Luthra."

"Mahesh Luthra's son."

The elderly lady frowned.

The waiter grinned.

"He is famous for flirting with girls."

"He is ready to become anything to get a girl in his arms."

The restaurant fell silent.

Karan slowly turned around.

The young woman looked horrified.

The elderly lady looked furious.

Rishab quietly picked up his coffee.

He knew what was coming.

"You lied to us?" the elderly lady shouted.

"Catch him!"

Karan ran.

The crowd chased him through the hotel.

Rishab remained seated.

Exactly as predicted.

Unfortunately for Karan, the crowd caught him on the staircase.

The next few moments involved angry shouting, flying handbags, and several well-deserved slaps.

"Ouch!"

"Listen!"

"It was a misunderstanding!"

Nobody listened.

Several minutes later, Karan finally escaped and sprinted out of the hotel.

At that exact moment, Mahesh's car passed by.

Mahesh frowned.

"Wasn't that Karan?"

His business partner looked outside.

A bruised Karan was running for his life.

Before they could stop, Karan disappeared.

Luthra House

That evening...

Karan quietly entered Luthra House.

Mahesh was waiting.

"Stop."

Karan froze.

Mahesh folded his arms.

"I saw you today."

Karan immediately became emotional.

"If you saw me, why didn't you save me?"

Mahesh stared at him.

"Save you?"

"If I had stepped out of the car, I would have been beaten up with you."

Even Rakhi started laughing.

Karan looked betrayed.

Suddenly, the telephone rang.

Karan instantly rushed toward it.

"I'll get it."

Before he could answer, Rakhi stopped him.

"This phone is what spoils him."

Mahesh nodded.

"You're right."

He took the receiver from Karan's hand.

"Dad!"

Mahesh ignored him.

"Go upstairs."

"Change your clothes."

"And come back."

Karan sighed dramatically.

"My own family doesn't understand me."

Rishab, who had silently witnessed everything, finally laughed.

A few weeks later, the idea discussed in the letters became reality.

Luthra Foundation and a local NGO jointly launched a literacy campaign.

The project aimed to provide books and education to underprivileged children.

Rishab personally supervised it.

Preeta volunteered enthusiastically.

Their meetings became frequent.

Every day, they spent hours planning classes, arranging books, and interacting with children.

One afternoon...

The children were drawing pictures.

Rishab stood observing them.

Preeta approached carrying notebooks.

"You were right."

Rishab looked at her.

"About what?"

"The smile on a child's face is better than any award."

Rishab smiled.

"I am glad you agree."

Their eyes met briefly.

Both looked away.

For reasons neither understood.

A few days later...

After a successful literacy event, Preeta and Rishab stopped at a hotel café.

Soft music played in the background.

Preeta stirred her coffee.

"I never imagined Sagar would be so serious."

Rishab laughed softly.

"And I never imagined Preeta would talk so much."

She gasped dramatically.

"That was an insult."

"It was an observation."

Both laughed.

For the first time, Rishab felt completely relaxed around someone outside his family.

At that very moment...

The hotel entrance opened.

Karan walked inside with a business client.

He froze.

His eyes landed on Rishab and Preeta.

A mischievous smile appeared on his face.

He quietly walked toward them.

Suddenly...

Preeta turned while standing up.

She accidentally bumped into Karan.

The files in her hands fell to the floor.

"Oh, my God! I am sorry."

Karan immediately bent down.

"No problem."

For a brief moment, both reached for the same file.

Their hands touched.

Preeta quickly withdrew hers.

Karan smiled.

"It's alright."

Rishab stood up.

"Karan?"

Karan grinned.

"So this is where Mr. Work Comes First spends his evenings."

Rishab rolled his eyes.

Preeta laughed.

Karan looked at her.

"So you are the famous Preeta."

She blinked.

"Famous?"

"I hear your name every day."

Rishab almost choked on his coffee.

"Karan!"

Karan burst out laughing.

The three spent a few minutes talking before Karan left.

But as he walked away, he glanced back.

For some reason, he felt happy seeing Rishab smile so freely.

A few days later...

Preeta gathered courage.

"Would you like to visit my house?"

Rishab looked surprised.

"Your house?"

"Maa has heard so much about you that she thinks you already live there."

Rishab laughed.

"In that case, I should probably meet her."

The following evening, Rishab drove toward the Arora house.

As the car moved through the city streets, his thoughts remained fixed on Preeta.

In his imagination echoed the melody...

✭✭✭Male✭✭✭

Mera dil bhi kitna pagal hai

Ye pyar to tum se karta hai

Mera dil bhi kitna pagal hai

Ye pyar to tum se karta hai

Par saamne jab tum aate ho, (2)

Kuch bhi kehne se darta hai

O mere saajan, o mere saajan,

Saajan saajan, mere saajan

Mera dil bhi kitna pagal hai

Ye pyar to tum se karta hai

Mera dil bhi kitna pagal hai

Ye pyar to tum se karta hai

✭✭✭Male✭✭✭

Kitna isko samajhata hoon,

Kitna isko behlata hoon

Kitna isko samajhata hoon,

Kitna isko behlata hoon

Naadaan hai kuch na samajhata hai,

Din raat ye aahen bharta hai

❤❤❤Female❤❤❤

Mera dil bhi kitna pagal hai

Ye pyar to tum se karta hai

Mera dil bhi kitna pagal hai

Ye pyar to tum se karta hai

Par saamne jab tum aate ho, (2)

Kuch bhi kehne se darta hai

O mere saajan, o mere saajan,

Saajan saajan, mere saajan

Mera dil bhi kitna pagal hai

Ye pyar to tum se karta hai

Mera dil bhi kitna pagal hai

Ye pyar to tum se karta hai

❤❤❤Female❤❤❤

Har pal mujhko tadpata hai,

Mujhe saari raat jagata hai

Har pal mujhko tadpata hai,

Mujhe saari raat jagata hai

Is baat ki tumko khabar nahi,

Ye sirf tumhi pe marta hai

✭✭✭Male✭✭✭

Mera dil bhi kitna pagal hai

Ye pyar to tum se karta hai

❤❤❤Female❤❤❤

Mera dil bhi kitna pagal hai

Ye pyar to tum se karta hai

✭✭✭Male✭✭✭

Par saamne jab tum aate ho

❤❤❤Female❤❤❤

Par saamne jab tum aate ho

✭✭✭Male✭✭✭

Kuch bhi kehne se darta hai

O mere saajan, o mere saajan,

Saajan saajan, mere saajan.

For the first time in years, his heart felt lighter.

When he reached the house, Sarla welcomed him warmly.

Rishab folded his hands respectfully.

"I guess you must be Maa."

Sarla immediately liked him.

During dinner, laughter filled the house.

Rishab felt an unfamiliar warmth.

A feeling of belonging.

While looking around the living room, something caught his attention.

A large decorative photo frame hung on the wall.

But it was empty.

Completely blank.

Rishab frowned.

"Why is that frame empty?"

For a brief moment, Preeta's smile faded.

She looked at the frame silently.

Sarla exchanged a glance with her daughter.

"There is a story behind it," Sarla said softly.

Preeta quickly changed the subject.

"We'll tell you someday."

Rishab sensed hidden emotions.

He did not ask further.

But his gaze returned to the blank frame once again.

Somehow, he felt that the empty frame was connected to a wound that had never healed.

And unknowingly...

That blank frame was destined to play an important role in all three lives very soon.

Far away, Karan stood on the balcony of Luthra House looking at the stars.

A strange restlessness filled his heart.

He did not know why.

He did not know that destiny had already begun writing a story that would test friendship, love, and sacrifice.

End of Part 4