Gupta Brothers: Chaar Kunware from Ganga Kinare

Introduction:

Gupta Brothers: Chaar Kunware from Ganga Kinare is a fresh, emotionally rich dramedy I’ve created, inspired by the timeless charm of Priyadarshan’s film Hulchul and set within the world of Star Bharat’s Gupta Brothers.

While the original show focused on the bond of the Gupta brothers and their vow to stay united without needing women in their lives, this story reimagines that world — with a deeper romantic conflict, layered rivalry, and Banaras itself playing matchmaker.

At its heart is Rajat Gupta, the youngest Gupta brother, now grown into a principled young soldier who carries the weight of family promises and pride. In Gupta Brothers, Rajat was portrayed as a young boy; here, I’ve cast Rohit Chandel (Dhawal of Pandya Store 2) as Rajat, perfectly embodying his intensity, charm, and internal conflict.

Opposite him is Meera Prakash, the youngest daughter of Amba Prakash, the iron-willed antagonist who fuels the family feud. I’ve envisioned Priyanshi Yadav (Natasha of Pandya Store 2) as Meera — fierce, independent, and as vulnerable as she is strong.

The rest of the cast and characters remain as they were in Gupta Brothers, bringing their familiar dynamics into this new, high-stakes love-and-rivalry tale:

* Shiv Gupta — the eldest brother, father-figure and pillar of strength (Hiten Tejwani)
* Alok Gupta — the responsible accountant, steady and reserved (Akash Mukherjee)
* Veeru Gupta — the spirited, fun-loving troublemaker (Satya Tiwari)
* Ganga — Shiv’s confidante and Kalpana’s dedicated leader (Parneeta Borthakur)
* Aditi Prakash — a talented dancer with a quiet fire (Aishwarya Raj Bhakuni)
* Jaya Prakash — headstrong and secretly drawn to Alok (Sonal Vengurlekar)
*Amba Prakash — the matriarch whose feud with the Guptas drives the story’s conflict (Rinku Dhawan)
* Jay — Rajat’s witty, fiercely loyal childhood best friend from Banaras, always ready with a quip or a plan (Zeeshan Khan, Aryan of Kumkum Bhagya)
*Rani — Meera’s spirited best friend and confidante, often adding fuel to the fire with a sharp tongue and big heart (Aparna Mishra, Shahana of Kumkum Bhagya)

Gupta Brothers: Chaar Kunware from Ganga Kinare blends humor, heartache, hidden longing, and family loyalty into a tale where promises, plans, and hearts are destined to collide — all under the watchful, meddling gaze of Banaras.

Chapter 1

In the heart of Banaras, where the sacred Ganga curves with grace and the air smells of camphor and cardamom, stood two havens on opposite sides of the city—Gupta Nivas, where no woman had ever ruled, and Prakash Haveli, where no man dared enter.

This is where our story begins—with four brothers, three sisters, one iron-willed matriarch, and a quiet woman who watches from the shadows. A collision of beliefs, stitched into the lanes of a timeless city.

Gupta Nivas: A Home Built by Men, Run Like a Dream

The early morning light slanted across the gleaming floors of Gupta Nivas. Not a speck of dust stirred, not a maid in sight. The aroma of elaichi-laced milk simmering on the stove mingled with the sound of temple bells from the nearby ghat.

At the stove, Shiv Gupta, the eldest of the four brothers, stirred a thickening pan of rasmalai with reverence. His movements were methodical, his gaze calm. A quiet nurturer, Shiv’s silence said more than words ever could. His cooking soothed hearts, his presence anchored the house. He was a father, a mother, and a guardian rolled into one.

At the dining table, Alok Gupta, the second brother, flipped through receipts and accounts like a monk with scriptures. Logical and precise, Alok managed every penny of the Gupta household with clinical discipline.

“Two kilos less kaju this time,” he murmured, scribbling in his notebook, “Last year, half of it disappeared into Veeru’s hidden stash.”

From the hall came a dramatic gasp.

“I heard that!” shouted Veeru Gupta, the third and most expressive brother, charging in with a mop in one hand and a feather duster in the other. His red muffler was tied like a crown and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“That stash is my stress reliever! You think these tiles clean themselves?”

“You clean like you’re auditioning for a dance show,” Alok muttered.

Veeru twirled with a wink. “Art is art, bhaiyya.”

Shiv chuckled quietly, pouring the rasmalai into silver bowls. This house—run by men, for men—was a marvel of self-sufficiency. Not by arrogance, but by choice. The Gupta brothers believed in living with dignity, discipline, and no dependence.

But one chair remained empty at the breakfast table. It belonged to the youngest—Rajat Gupta.

He wasn’t just away—he was far away, stationed in the snow-laden stretches of Kashmir, serving the Indian Army. Raised by his elder brothers after their parents’ untimely demise, Rajat had learned to cook his own meals, stitch his wounds, and guard his heart. He was a soldier now—brave, battle-scarred, and still rooted in Banaras.

His room had been cleaned. His favorite sweets were being prepared. The brothers didn’t talk about it, but everyone was waiting. Rajat was due home on leave.

Prakash Haveli: A Fortress of Fire

Across the Ganga, in Ramnagar, stood another kind of home—less soft, more sharp. Less open, more guarded.

“OUT!” came a thunderous voice from the main gate.

Amba Prakash, wrapped in her crimson-bordered saree, stood like a wall against the world. Her glare was enough to send the female security guard scurrying out.

“How many times must I repeat myself?” she muttered, “No men inside these gates. No delivery boys. No salesmen. Not even their shadows.”

Her husband’s betrayal had once crushed her. Since then, Amba had chosen fire. She raised her daughters without compromise. No man would rule them. No man would ruin them.

From the quiet herb garden nearby, Ganga Prakash, her much younger sister, watched calmly. Sorting tulsi leaves into a silver bowl, Ganga was the gentler moon to Amba’s raging sun. She rarely spoke in high tones, but when she did, even Amba paused.

“A storm at the gate again?” she asked, passing a basket of flowers to Aditi.

Aditi’s face remained serene. “Same storm, same sky.”

Ganga smiled faintly and returned to her bowl. Though she called Amba Di with sisterly fondness, she was more mother than aunt to her nieces.

Especially to Meera.

The Prakash Sisters

Aditi Prakash, the eldest, was everything Amba admired—graceful, obedient, and unwavering. A classical dancer by training and a dutiful daughter by heart, she wore her strength like silk—quiet and dignified.

Jaya Prakash, the second, was fire in a bottle. Sharp-witted and cynical, she didn’t speak often, but when she did, it left a mark. She shared her mother’s defiance but envied the softness Meera brought out in others—especially in Ganga.

And then, Meera Prakash—the youngest—roared in on her Royal Enfield Bullet, grease-stained kurta flapping in the wind, helmet tucked under one arm, and a steel tumbler of chai in the other.

“Sixth staff fired this month,” she muttered, hopping off the bike. “Should I print Amma a termination certificate next time?”

Amba glared. “Meera, don’t start.”

“I’m not starting,” Meera smirked, “I’m just archiving the chaos for my memoir.”

“Meera!” Jaya snapped, folding her arms.

“Let her speak,” Aditi said gently, though her voice trembled with unspoken tension.

Ganga watched the exchange silently. Meera’s words were often laced with sarcasm, but Ganga knew—they were smoke signals. Wounds wrapped in rebellion.

Amba turned toward her younger sister. “You pamper her too much.”

Ganga replied softly, “Because she asks the questions we were too scared to ask, Di.”

But Meera had already picked up her helmet.

“I’m going out.”

“To where?” Amba snapped.

“To breathe,” she called back, kicking her Bullet into motion.

The Wild Cards: Jay & Rani

On the other side of the city, near Assi Ghat, Jay Bhardwaj leaned casually against a black SUV, fiddling with his sunglasses. Flamboyant, funny, and forever flirtatious, he was the human equivalent of a firecracker. Childhood best friend to Rajat, Jay balanced logic with chaos—and often leaned into chaos.

“Banaras hasn’t changed,” he muttered, popping a peanut. “Still smells like incense and incoming drama.”

“Some things are worth staying the same,” came a calm voice.

Jay turned to see Rajat Gupta, fresh off duty, in olive green and steady as ever. His eyes scanned the ghats, his soldier’s calm at odds with the city’s chaos.

Elsewhere, Meera revved her Bullet. Rani Mishra, her equally outspoken best friend, held on tight from behind.

“You think your mom will ever let go?” Rani shouted over the noise.

“Only if she falls in love again,” Meera yelled back.

“You?”

“Never.”

Just then, the SUV splashed through a pothole beside them—muddy water splattered across Meera’s kurta and face.

“WHAT THE—!” Meera screeched, braking hard.

Jay peeked out of the SUV and winced. “Bro… we just baptized Durga with gutter water.”

“I’ll handle it,” Rajat said, stepping out.

His eyes met hers. Calm vs. storm.

Banaras held its breath.

“Do you always drive like you own the road?” Meera demanded, wiping her face.

“Only when the road leads to interesting turns,” Rajat replied.

Jay groaned, “Please tell me we’re not flirting with Shiva’s wrath.”

Rani whispered, “Tell me you don’t find him hot.”

Meera didn’t answer. She just glared harder.

“You owe me dry clothes,” she snapped.

“I owe you more than that,” Rajat replied.

Their eyes locked again.

And in the chaos of Banaras, beneath temple bells and crowded streets, destiny had just cleared its throat.

------

To be continued.

Chapter 2 (Clash of Fire and Ice)

The lanes of Banaras weren’t ready for the collision that morning. And neither were Rajat Gupta and Meera Prakash.

They had splashed into each other’s lives—quite literally—and now stood on opposite ends of an invisible battlefield, staring down like seasoned rivals.

Rajat folded his arms, calm but cutting.
“So it was you. Meera Prakash. Daughter of my brothers' biggest ideological opponent and my biggest headache since childhood.”

Meera cocked an eyebrow, crossing her arms.
“And I didn’t know the army now allowed men like you—so full of ego and lacking discipline.”

Rajat’s jaw tightened.
“Mind your words, Miss Prakash. I wasn’t thrown out. I’m home on official leave, to spend time with my perfectly functional family.”

Meera scoffed.
“Functional? A house with only male furniture, male cutlery, and male opinions. That’s your definition of family?”

Rajat’s face darkened.
“Look who’s talking! A household allergic to testosterone. Your family will vanish without a legacy if there’s no one to pass it forward.”

Their voices rose, sharp as the winter wind. A small crowd of tea vendors and passersby slowed their steps, pretending to adjust slippers just to eavesdrop.

Rushing toward them came Jay and Rani, looking like firefighters called to a blaze.

“Will you both calm down!” Jay grabbed Rajat’s arm. “This isn’t a courtroom drama!”

Rani tugged at Meera. “Meera, please! I was late for class once because of this—don’t let Round Two start!”

But Jay’s gaze shifted—and lingered on Rani. Annoyed, flushed, radiant. Without thinking, he smiled.
“Hi.”

Rani blinked, caught off guard. A reluctant smile crept in.
“Hi.”

WHACK! Rajat lightly elbowed Jay.
“Why are you greeting this chudail’s friend like it’s some college romance?”

Meera’s eyes flashed.
“If I’m a chudail, you’re a Luttapi.”

“Is that a curse?” Rajat scowled.

“A demonic cartoon sidekick. Fits you perfectly,” Meera smirked.

Jay and Rani groaned in unison.
“Enough,” Jay said, dragging Rajat toward the SUV.
“Can we go before you two start quoting Shakespeare in Shankar Bazaar?” Rani muttered, pulling Meera toward her Bullet.

Even as they walked away, Rajat and Meera didn’t break eye contact—stubbornly holding the stare like a promise of future battles.

Banaras had witnessed the fiery exchange—and by the time they parted, the tale had already begun to spread like incense smoke across the city.

Gupta Nivas, Banaras – A Little Later

The iron gates creaked as the black SUV rolled into the courtyard. Shiv Gupta stepped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. His expression eased into a quiet smile.

“He’s home,” he murmured.

The door opened. Rajat Gupta, still in his olive-green jacket, stepped out with a leather duffle over his shoulder. The dust of Kashmir hadn’t left him, but neither had the weight of memories.

“Bhaiya,” he said, his voice warm as he bent to touch Shiv’s feet.

But Shiv stopped him mid-motion and pulled him into a tight hug.
“My brother, who’s brought honour to our name by standing at the nation’s borders, is finally home.”

Veeru ran in, mop in one hand like a ceremonial weapon.
“Prince has returned! Quick question—do you still remember where we keep the detergent?”

Rajat chuckled.
“Still allergic to mess, I see.”

Alok, from his seat near the ledger stack, muttered without looking up,
“Don’t touch the kaju. That’s all I ask.”

The four stood for a moment, laughter tucked between them like a shared breath.

Shiv smiled.
“We may not have wives, but this... is still a complete home, isn't it?”

No one disagreed.

Courtyard – Moments Later

Jay, as usual, couldn’t keep a story in.
“Oh, don’t ask what happened on the way! Rajat just started World War III on the ghat with Meera Pra—”

He stopped. Too late.

Everyone froze.

Shiv’s hand shot out for the wall. His breath hitched, legs faltered.
“Bhaiya!” Rajat cried, catching him.

Veeru abandoned the mop and rushed over. They helped Shiv to the charpoy, fanning him gently. Shiv waved them off, signaling he was okay, but his breath came slower, heavier.

Inside, the air grew thick with anxiety.

Veranda – A Little Later

Alok stood near the courtyard, phone pressed to his ear, voice barely a whisper. He faced the garden, away from the house.

“You shouldn’t have called.”

He paused.

“You don’t know what just happened. Shiv bhaiya… almost collapsed. Because of something Rajat did. Because of… someone.”
A pause.
“No, I’m not blaming you. I just… I can’t take risks right now.”

Another pause.

“If this... whatever this is, becomes a distraction... if it weakens even one of us... then I’ll never forgive myself.”

He cut the call before the silence on the other side could hurt more.

As he turned back toward the house, a shadow of restraint passed through his usually composed eyes.

Prakash Haveli, Ramnagar

The storm had returned.

Meera stormed in, helmet in hand, mud on her kurta, rage on her face.

Rani was right behind.
“Why do you always have to poke the tiger? Because of you, I’ve been banned from college for three days!”

“Keep it down!” Meera hissed, “Amma will hear—”

“WHO is fighting with whom this time?” came the voice of thunder.

Amba Prakash entered, her stare enough to silence all.

Rani froze. Meera tried.
“It was... nothing. Just Rajat Gupta.”

Amba’s face turned grey, then cold. She slowly sank into a wooden chair, her knuckles white around its edges.

“Shiv’s brother,” she whispered. “They’ve returned to destroy us… again.”

“Amma!” Meera cried, instantly kneeling beside her.

But Amba’s voice had regained its steel. She looked directly at her youngest.

“You’re the only one I trust. You’re the fire I shaped with my own hands. I want you to finish what I started. Break Rajat Gupta.”

Meera faltered.
“And if… I fall for him?”

Amba’s eyes narrowed.
“You won’t. Because you’re mine. And we don’t fall—we rise.”

Late Night – Split Screen: Two Homes, Two Wars

In Gupta Nivas, Shiv lay in bed, finally resting. Rajat sat beside him, silent. Watching. Thinking.

A question tumbled out, soft as breath.

“Why does Amba Prakash’s name affect you like this?”

Shiv’s eyes opened, slowly.

“Because once... I failed her. And she never forgives failure.”

He didn’t say more. But Rajat understood the depth of regret.

Shiv drifted into sleep. Rajat sat back.

His fists curled.

“If she’s built walls so tall… maybe I’ll be the crack that brings them down.”

He hadn’t made a promise to anyone.

He simply made a choice.

To protect his family.

To prove his worth.

Even if it meant tearing down a girl who looked like fury and freedom on a Bullet bike.

Two houses.
Two hearts.
Two histories.
And now—one battlefield.

Banaras had held its breath.

Now it would watch the storm begin.

-----

To be continued.

Surprising that you started a hulchul ff on gupta brothers.How did you decide to write a gupta brothers ff on hulchul?

Glad that the leads are from ps2 and arhana.

I know hiten parineeta sonal.if possible plz put the pics of other characters in the CS.

Surprising that rajat is a soldier.veeru alok conversation was funny.surprised to see rinku as amba. Shocking that men are not allowed there as her husband betrayed her.surprising that ganga is her sister.to breath dialogue was hilarious. rajat meera scene was interesting.

Originally posted by: jasminerahul

Surprising that you started a hulchul ff on gupta brothers.How did you decide to write a gupta brothers ff on hulchul?

Glad that the leads are from ps2 and arhana.

I know hiten parineeta sonal.if possible plz put the pics of other characters in the CS.

All the brothers and their pairs are shown in this article:

https://www.tellyupdates.com/which-is-your-favorite-pair-of-gupta-brothers-chaar-kunwaare-from-ganga-kinaare/

But in this article Rajat is a young boy so he doesn't have a pair. However in my story the main pair is Rajat-Meera which is:

Other than these four brothers and their pairs, there is the "Amba" who is the Aditi, Jaya and Meera's mother and the main antagonist of this story:

Finally there is Jay and Rani who are Rajat-Meera's best friends:

Chapter 3 (First Sparks)

Banaras didn’t just watch. It listened.
It listened to the clipped words between brothers at dawn, the unspoken questions in glances across courtyards, and the quiet storms that rose in hearts too proud to name them.

And now, after years of distance, after a single splash and a single stare, the city braced itself — because the lines had been drawn, and nothing would stay hidden for long.

Gupta Nivas – Morning

Shiv Gupta had his sleeves rolled up, quietly shaping dough for pooris. His rhythm was deliberate, his face calm—but inside, thoughts stirred. It was one of those mornings when the air smelled of lemongrass, smoke, and unfinished conversations.

“Bhaiya!” Veeru barged in, holding up a card wrapped in gold thread. “Did you seriously order a saree? For yourself? Should I be concerned?”

Shiv didn’t look up. “It’s an invite.”

“To a women’s self-defense workshop at Kalpana NGO,” Alok clarified, entering with a cup of chai. “The same NGO you’ve been secretly funding for years, apparently.”

Rajat, flipping through the newspaper, raised a brow. “Kalpana? That’s where Ganga Prakash volunteers, isn’t it?”

When Shiv didn’t answer, Rajat lowered the paper slightly, grinning. “The Prakash family’s pride and joy. Are we... making peace treaties now?”

Veeru gasped dramatically. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to go! To a place full of women who know how to punch?”

Shiv calmly wiped his hands. “I’m going. It’s a public event.”

Veeru clutched his heart. “Is this the same Shiv Bhaiya who once said he’d rather attend a tax audit than a public gathering?”

Shiv glanced up briefly. “It’s a public event, Veeru. I’m attending to show support.”

Alok smirked. “Support for women’s safety... or for Ganga Prakash?”

Shiv shot him a calm, warning look.

Jay, stepping in at that moment with a biscuit half in his mouth, mumbled, “Who needs Netflix when you guys serve drama for breakfast?”

Veeru handed him the invite. “Come with Bhaiya to Kalpana. Maybe you’ll get punched and we’ll have peace at home for a week.”

Jay grinned. “Tempting. But someone’s got to keep Rajat out of trouble.”

Rajat rolled his eyes. “Oh, thanks for the confidence.”

Kalpana NGO – Courtyard of Echoes

The courtyard hummed with energy—women practicing defense moves, laughter mingling with the thump of sticks and claps of encouragement. Ganga Prakash moved among them, adjusting a student’s grip, correcting a stance. Calm. Focused.

And then… she felt it.
A shift. A presence.

Shiv Gupta stood at the edge of the courtyard, hands clasped behind his back, respectful but impossible to miss.

Their eyes met. Sparks flew—not of romance (not yet)—but of two people too proud to look away first.

“Namaste,” Shiv said, his voice steady.

Ganga inclined her head coolly. “I wasn’t expecting a Gupta here.”

“I wasn’t expecting such hostility in a place meant for learning.”

Her silver bangles clinked softly as she crossed her arms. “Hostility? No. Caution? Absolutely.”

“Caution against me?”

“Against what you represent.”

Shiv’s lips curved, just slightly. “I’m not here to represent anyone but myself.”

“This isn’t your arena, Shiv Gupta.”

He nodded, unoffended. “I’m not here to claim it. Just to observe.”

Ganga turned to her group. “Five-minute water break, everyone!”

As the women dispersed, she faced him fully. The tension between them crackled louder than the traffic horns beyond the gates.

“Your family’s donations don’t buy you a pass here.”

“I didn’t come looking for one.”

“Good,” she said. “Because I don’t give them.”

Neither moved. Neither blinked. And neither admitted that the storm inside had just begun.

Prakash Haveli – Veranda

Amba Prakash sat on the creaking swing, slicing raw mango, her blade swift and sure.

“Shiv Gupta was seen at Kalpana this morning,” Chanda the house-help said lightly, almost testing the waters.

The blade froze mid-slice.

“Of course,” Amba muttered, her voice like steel wrapped in velvet. “Where there’s a chance to look noble, a Gupta won’t be far behind.”

She popped a mango slice into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

“Let him strut. Let him offer his charity. It changes nothing.”

The swing creaked as she resumed slicing—clean, precise, like she was cutting up the past itself.

Ramnagar Ghat – Late Afternoon

Meera Prakash sat on the wide stone steps, sipping soda through a steel straw, her combat boots muddy from the morning drills. The river flowed on, but her mind was stuck in a whirlpool of its own.

Rani flopped beside her, kicking off her sandals and groaning.
“So… any progress on your seduce-and-destroy mission?”

Meera shot her a look. “Don’t joke.”

“I’m not!” Rani held up her hands. “You’ve been brooding like a failed poet all day.”

Meera stared at the water, the current reflecting the mess inside her.
“Amma wants me to break him. Make him fall, then walk away. Like they did to us.”

Rani blinked. “Whoa. That’s… dark.”

Meera’s voice softened. “But he doesn’t act like a villain, Rani. He doesn’t even act like a Gupta.”

Rani watched her friend quietly.

“I hate that he listens. That he doesn’t flinch when I insult him. That he looks at me like I’m… a puzzle. Not a problem.”

Rani grinned. “Oh no. You’re falling for the enemy.”

“I hate him,” Meera snapped.

“Sure,” Rani teased. “Because that sounded super convincing.”

They sat in silence as a temple bell rang somewhere upstream.

“I’m supposed to trap him,” Meera said, quieter this time. “But what if I fall instead?”

As they sit quietly, Jay strolls by with a bag of jalebis, pretending not to notice them.
“Fancy seeing you two at the ghat, plotting world domination?” he called out.

Meera groaned. “Jay, go away.”

Rani smirked. “He’s like a mosquito. Shows up everywhere.”

Jay pretended to be wounded. “Mosquito? At least I’m sweet-blooded enough to attract attention.”

Before Meera could retort, he tossed a jalebi into Rani’s lap.
“For your stress. You’re welcome.”

Rani blinked, surprised. A small, genuine smile escaped her.
“Thanks... I guess.”

Jay winked. “Anytime, sidekick.” He sauntered off before they could respond.

Meera shook her head. “That guy’s impossible.”

Rani, chewing thoughtfully on the jalebi, muttered, “And weirdly sweet.”

Gupta Nivas – Evening

The haveli was warm with the smell of ghee and hing. Rajat folded laundry on the veranda while Jay leaned lazily against the window, spooning chutney straight from the jar.

“I bring disturbing news,” Jay announced dramatically.

“I’m sure it’s unnecessary,” Rajat muttered, not looking up.

Jay smirked. “Apparently, Meera Prakash was seen at the ghat today… not yelling. Just sitting there. Staring at the river like she’s in a tragic love song.”

Rajat finally looked up, unimpressed.

“You’re messing up her mission, soldier boy,” Jay said, wagging the chutney spoon at him.

“There is no mission,” Rajat replied flatly.

“Oh, my sweet naive idiot,” Jay grinned. “She’s the mission. And you? You’re the battleground.”

Rajat threw a towel at him.

Meanwhile, Alok walked in, ending a hushed phone call. His expression was unreadable.

Veeru peered at him. “Which client now?”

Alok coughed. “Just work.”

Veeru folded his arms. “Uh-huh. Does this ‘client’ wear ghungroos, by any chance?”

Alok hurled a cushion. “Get out!”

Montage – The City Holds Its Breath

· Shiv, standing at the window, watching the moon rise over Banaras rooftops, drumming his fingers on the sill.

· Ganga, walking home, pausing by a crumbling wall where Prakash–Gupta Community Trust is barely visible beneath the dirt. She wipes the dust off… then keeps walking.

· Meera on her balcony, muttering into the breeze: “Fall for me, Rajat Gupta. I dare you.”

· Amba, burning an old letter, the flame reflecting cold resolve in her eyes.

· Jay standing on a rooftop, playing his flute idly, watching Banaras lights flicker — spots Rani walking below with her books, smiles to himself, and shakes his head.

· Rani, feeling a gaze, glances up, sees nothing, and keeps walking — heart oddly lighter.

Banaras remembers.
And it waits—for sparks, for storms, and for hearts that keep pretending they aren’t listening.

------

To be continued.

Rajat meera nok jhok was funny.The dialogues were very funny.Did rani get suspended from the college for 3 days?I didn't understand that.

I imagined shiv saying that though there are no women there their family and home are complete.I felt that this particular scene was very emotional.

Amba wants to destroy Rajat using Meera.How confident she is to say that since meera is hers she will not fall,but only rise.But what if meera really falls for rajat and amba's plan backfires?

Shiv said that amba failed her and she never forgives failure.i wonder what really happened between amba and shiv.

Thanks for staring the pics of the couples.

All are teasing shiv by mentioning ganga's name. What is their past?Ganga says that she is only against what he represents. Did she mean his family?I am surprised that meera doubts whether during the love drama she will really end up falling for rajat.I think already meera has a soft corner towards rajat.because she feels that he is not at all like other guptas and doesnt act like a villain.Rani calling Jay a mosquito was so funny.

The last Jay rani scene was sweet.it had a romantic feel too.I feel that Jay loves rani.

Originally posted by: jasminerahul

Rajat meera nok jhok was funny.The dialogues were very funny.Did rani get suspended from the college for 3 days?I didn't understand that.

I imagined shiv saying that though there are no women there their family and home are complete.I felt that this particular scene was very emotional.

Amba wants to destroy Rajat using Meera.How confident she is to say that since meera is hers she will not fall,but only rise.But what if meera really falls for rajat and amba's plan backfires?

Shiv said that amba failed her and she never forgives failure.i wonder what really happened between amba and shiv.

Thanks for staring the pics of the couples.

@bold- Yes Rani got suspended from the college for being late. Earlier too, she has been late several times and this time she got late because of Meera