~ Safarnaama ~ An Armaan-Abhira FF - Part Twenty-One (22.05.2024) - Page 28

Hope you get over the writers block soon. Looking forward to your update

Awesome update 

This was by far my favorite part 💕👏 you did an amazing job!! The depth of each character and the way you described their emotions, I felt like I am watching them in front of me!!! Ruhi is probably the most complicated character, she has so many layers and you portray them beautifully!! I love how you made this confrontation into something like introspection for Ruhi and I love that Abhira didn’t lose her kindness, she actually empathized with her!!! Very well written 💕

Thank you all so much! I was so pleasantly surprised reading your comments, seeing as I was unsure while posting the last update. Thank you for being so wonderfully encouraging 

PART TWENTY

Abhira's tears cascaded down her cheeks, onto Armaan's shoulder as they sat together on the weathered bench. The tranquility of his secret spot enveloped them, offering a sanctuary amidst the chaos of their lives. Here, the rustling leaves whispered secrets of peace, and the gentle breeze carried away the weight of their worries. Yet, Abhira's heart remained heavy, haunted by the memories of her conversation with Ruhi.

Abhira felt her chest tighten with a mix of emotions. On one hand, she felt lighter, having finally voiced what needed to be said. Yet, beneath that sense of relief lingered a deep sense of conflict. Was forgiveness possible for the injustice that the Goenkas had inflicted upon her mother? The uncertainty gnawed at her conscience, weakening her resolve to stay away from them all. 

Worry crept into her thoughts as she recalled the last glimpse of Ruhi, on the brink of what seemed like a panic attack. While the others had rallied around Ruhi, attempting to comfort her, Abhira and Armaan had exchanged a silent look and slipped away unnoticed. Would Ruhi be okay? Had she been too harsh? 

"You didn't tell Ruhi that she was responsible for her mother's death," Armaan said softly, as though reading her thoughts. 

"I couldn't," Abhira admitted, "It would break her... even more... Do you think we should have stayed?"

Armaan felt a swell of pride at Abhira's kindness and humanity, despite the myriad ways Ruhi had wronged her — her demeaning words, her constant taunts and alliances against Abhira with Armaan's family. It was for Ruhi that Abhira's mother had endured years of exile, and it was Ruhi who had driven a wedge between Akshara and Manish, leading to her heartbreaking end where Manish hung up on her as she lay on her deathbed.

Yet, despite everything, Abhira's empathy prevailed. 

"Ruhi needs professional help," Armaan said, softly but firmly. "It's not up to you. I'm sure she will get the help that she needs."

Armaan smiled fondly at her as he continued, "You are truly your mother's daughter." 

Abhira looked up at him, her heart clenching with guilt, "Mumma would have forgiven them. She had called Parnanu before dying... But I... I am not able to. I am not like my mumma at all."

Armaan wiped away her tears gently, "You are the kindest person I have ever known, Abhira. But you need to be kind to yourself as well. If you still harbor hurt within you, that's on them, because of how they behaved. If you need time and space, that's fine. There's nothing to feel guilty about."

"It must have been hard for you as well," Abhira said, her eyes filled with concern for him, "seeing Dadisa and Rohit after so long... and yet, not being able to meet them properly."

Armaan's expression softened, a mixture of sadness and longing crossing his features. "It wasn't easy," he admitted quietly. "But being here with you, by your side, is where I need to be, it's where I want to be."

Abhira ran her fingers on the crevices of the bench, tracing the names of Armaan's family members that had been engraved onto the bench, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions. She was herself feeling torn due to her inability to forgive her Parnanu, when she had never even spent that much time with him. 

But it was different for Armaan. Like the names engraved on the bench, his heart was etched with the ties to his family, a bond that he had severed, partly for her sake, because of his unwavering support for her. 

"I'm truly grateful, Armaan" Abhira began, her voice barely above a whisper, "for everything you've done for me, the fact that you have been there to support and empathize with me every step of the way. But I can't help but feel guilty, knowing that your estrangement from your family is in part because of how they behaved towards me. It's been more than a year now, you need to let go of all that."

Armaan's eyes, filled with a blend of pain and determination, locked with Abhira's as he spoke. "Do you remember what the judge said at our last hearing?" he asked softly. "We are one unit. It's just you and I that matter. And I can never be happy if you are not. A place where you have been constantly disrespected can never be home to me."

"And it's not just about you, Abhira," he continued, his voice carrying a weight of sorrow. "I never truly belonged in that family. Dadisa barely looked at me today. She is probably still angry that it was because of me and my past relationship with Ruhi, that Rohit left the house. He's the son of the family, I was always the outsider.  Rohit of course is more than my brother, he is my baccha... And I know Charu, Krish, Kiara, Aryan surely miss me as well. Not everyone in the family thinks the same, but they all adhere to the rules and standards set by Dadisa. I see no point in disturbing the peace of that house."

"And your parents?"

"Rohit is there with them now. They'll be fine," he replied with resignation.

"Besides," he added, his tone tinged with melancholy, "They know how to reach me. My phone number, email address, nothing's changed. And yet..."

His voice trailed away. 

Abhira felt a surge of empathy for Armaan, imagining the depths of his longing for his family as he had lived alone in Delhi. She pictured the stark contrast between the warmth of his bustling extended family, of his vibrant former life filled with celebrations and events and a myriad happy moments of love and togetherness, and the solitude that he had suddenly been pushed into. It must have been jarring, shifting from a life where his identity was inseparable from theirs, to one where he stood so profoundly isolated.

The thought of how he must have felt when nobody bothered to reach out weighed heavily on her heart. To feel, day by day, everyday... forgotten, unacknowledged by those who had meant everything to him, must have broken him, bit by bit, day by day, everyday.

As Abhira's fingertips brushed against Armaan's tear-streaked cheeks, she felt the searing ache of his pain echo within her own wounded heart. Locked in a silent exchange, their eyes bore into each other, twin pools of torment swirling with unspoken agony.

"It's okay," she said softly, "Life is long... maybe your paths will cross again with some of the family members one day and you can reconnect. But until then, you know that they love you and miss you, right?"

The air grew heavy with the weight of her words, a heavy silence settling between them. Armaan's eyes seemed to have suddenly darkened, as though haunted by the ghosts of his past, as if he were trapped in the clutches of a recurring nightmare.

"Armaan?" Abhira asked, her heartbeats quickening with concern. 

"You weren't there," Armaan began, his voice choked, as though rendered breathless with the depths of the sorrow within him. "You didn't hear the things they said to me the last time I met them," he said, his tone heavy with bitterness. "They made it painfully clear that I was, that I had always been, just an outsider. They reminded me that my biological mother had torn their family apart, and said that I too had done the same. They said... so many things. You know, I didn't expect their forgiveness, because I know what I had done was wrong on so many levels. But to be made to realize that I never deserved their love either... it was, well... an eye-opener."

A weary sigh escaped him as he continued, his gaze drifting away. "That was one of the reasons why I didn't reach out to you, besides that one email," he confessed, a shadow darkening his features. "I felt... unworthy. Beyond the guilt for the wrongs I've done you, I felt... tainted, somehow. I longed to see you, to be with you, at the very least to ensure that you were okay. I missed you terribly. I wanted to beg for your forgiveness every single day, to plead for one more chance to be with you... I wanted to beg that you give me, our marriage a second chance... I would have done everything in my power to make it up to you... But I feared that I had nothing to offer you but pain. I couldn't bear the thought of dragging you back into my darkness. It seemed best for everyone if I stayed away. That's why I signed and filed the divorce papers as well. Working at the law clinic was a penance of sorts, but only barely."

He paused, a heaviness settling in his chest as he took a deep breath to steady himself. With a determined effort, he forced a strained smile to his lips, masking the turmoil within. 

"That day in Delhi, I don't know how I garnered the courage to tell you how I felt about you. Maybe it was the fact that you were going to be leaving soon... Trust me, I didn't expect anything from you, I just wanted to tell you how I felt. I thought you would walk away after that. But you stayed. And you've been here since. Your acceptance, your friendship means the world to me, Abhira. You have no idea how much. You make me feel alive again, a little bit worthy again."

Armaan's gaze softened as he continued, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. "I know I don't deserve this," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't deserve this happiness or this appreciation. But I am grateful for your kindness, for the fact that you're there with me, despite everything that I've done. Thank you."

Abhira's heart twisted with anguish as she listened to Armaan's words, shocked by the depth of his self-doubt and the weight of his perceived unworthiness. It pained her to see how deeply ingrained the need for gratitude had become in him, a reflection of the wounds inflicted by years of seeking validation, acceptance and love from those who could not provide it. 

She felt a surge of compassion for him, a profound ache for this beautiful soul who couldn't see his own worth. How could he not recognize the incredible person he was, the kindness and strength that radiated from him? Abhira longed for him to see himself through her eyes, to understand the light he brought into the lives of those around him.

Taking a deep breath, Abhira reached out to Armaan, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm not doing you a favor or anything that you need to thank me for," she said. "You are my family, and I am yours. I need you, I want you... I am with you because you make me happy. You have no idea, Armaan... how much I missed you when we were separated. I lived like a zombie... no friends, no laughter, no joy whatsoever."

"Despite my ambitions and goals that were driving me, I felt lost," Abhira admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "Every day felt hollow, like something vital was missing. I missed your laughter, your warmth, your presence beside me. You're not just a friend, Armaan... you're my anchor, my confidant, my family. And I never want to experience that kind of emptiness again. That is why I am with you... for me."

Although Armaan's lips curved into a warm smile at her words, Abhira couldn't shake the feeling that beneath the surface, he remained unconvinced. Despite his attempt at reassurance, a lingering shadow of doubt seemed to linger in his eyes, a silent testament to the depth of his inner turmoil.

"That day, in Delhi, you asked me if I trusted you," Abhira said earnestly, "Do you trust me, Armaan?"

"Of course," Armaan said, without missing a beat.

"So trust me when I say that I will never lie to you, or say things just to make you feel better," she implored, her sincerity evident in every word.

"I know," he muttered, his tone tinged with vulnerability. "I'm just... I fear that this might end one day as well."

Abhira's heart ached as she took in his words.

"I understand," she said.

In that moment, she saw in his eyes the same flicker of uncertainty that had once clouded her own heart... what she had felt, that day in Delhi, when he had told her that he loved her... But she also knew that with time, his fears would go away, and their shared bond would overcome any lingering doubts, his and hers both.

.........

Part Twenty-One  

Omg. Absolutely beautiful! 

I wish the makers would write Armaan the way you do. This heart to heart conversation is pure ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thank you. 

Beautifully written 

Loved reading armaan sharing his pain with abhira and abhira supporting him

Now that they both have accepted each other as family, I would love to read some romantic gestures between them.

Excited to read more 

I’d rather read what you write than watch the stupid show to be honest. What a beautiful exploration of characters and their story. 

This is pretty much the same Abhira as the show but the Armaan is so so so well written!👏👏👏 

The writers on the show are just murdering whatever little is left of Armaan’s character - I don’t know how they’re going to bring him back from this. It’s reached a point from where there’s absolutely no redemption. 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

Beautiful update , waiting for the next one already ! 😊

Amazing update 

U written soo well... Both are in pain but supporting each other 

Caught up with the next chapters and like always, I'm spellbound with your writing. The way you have dealt with the intricate truth of Akshara and Ruhi, my word! This redeemed Armaan is so pleasing to read, the way he became her companion in happiness and misery is worth everything. They're each other's only family, the realisation is bittersweet. His fears of her leaving him are valid, I hope Abhira assures him of her unwavering commitment towards him. Looking forwards for the next chapter 🤍