Yeh Rishta Kya Kehlata Hai - 28 July 2025 EDT
CID Episode 64 - 27th July
WELCOME 🏠 MAIRA27.7
MAIRA IS SAD 😞28.7
YRKKH to take a generation leap!!!
Geetanjali vs Abhinav
BALH Naya Season EDT Week #7: July 28-Aug 1
Maa esi nahi hoti…
Mohabbatein: one of the best scenes
Has Kajol forgotten how to act?
Anupamaa 27 - 28 July 2025 Written Update & Daily Discussions Thread
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24 years of Yaadein
Wow, you’ve done an amazing job with building the atmosphere, especially the tension and mystery surrounding Asha and her family’s history. The way you described the haveli and the eerie events really pulls the reader in. Asha’s journey is intense, and her internal conflict adds so much depth to her character. Even though horror isn’t my preferred genre, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Fantastic work on creating such a gripping, haunting narrative!
Originally posted by: minakrish
Wow, you’ve done an amazing job with building the atmosphere, especially the tension and mystery surrounding Asha and her family’s history. The way you described the haveli and the eerie events really pulls the reader in. Asha’s journey is intense, and her internal conflict adds so much depth to her character. Even though horror isn’t my preferred genre, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Fantastic work on creating such a gripping, haunting narrative!
Thank you very much for your lovely feedback 
! I'm very pleased to hear that you were captivated by the atmosphere, the suspense and the mystery.
I'm also glad that, even as someone who doesn't normally like the horror genre, you enjoyed the story.
The Echoes of the Haveli
With the last of her strength and trembling fingers, she somehow managed to put the key in the lock and turned it round. Her legs gave way and she slumped to the ground. Her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She greedily sucked the fresh air into her lungs. A welcome relief from the suffocating malevolence of the basement! Her heartbeat slowly normalised.
The relief at her escape gave way to paralysing fear. She looked around cautiously. But there was only the moon, casting an eerie silver light through the windows. The door she had escaped through was locked. No creatures followed her into the haveli. It was as if they were bound to the basement, unable or unwilling to step beyond its cursed walls. For a moment, she thought she was safe. But the whispers, those cursed whispers, still lingered in her ears, faint but persistent, like a splinter lodged deep in her mind.
With trembling hands, Asha reached for her phone, which she had dropped in her frantic escape. The screen was cracked, but it still worked. She hesitated for a moment, then grabbed it and stood up determinedly.
„Whatever this curse is, it must come to an end!” she muttered to herself.
She made her way to her room and fell onto the bed, exhausted, when she felt a pain in her forearm and hissed. She looked at her arm where the creature’s claws had grazed her. The wound burned, not just with pain but with something deeper, something unnatural. A strangled scream escaped her throat. She wasn’t free. Not yet.
As she stared at her arm, she noticed something strange about her wound. The skin around it was darkening, veins spidering out from the gash like ink spreading through water. Panic bubbled up inside her. She switched on the bedside light to get a better look..
The mark wasn’t just spreading, it was moving. The veins writhed under her skin as if alive, pulsing in time with an otherworldly rhythm she could feel in her chest. Her heart raced as she realized this wasn’t just a wound; it was a curse, a tether to whatever dark force resided within the haveli.
„No,” she whispered, shaking her head violently. „No, no, no!”
She tried to wipe it away, clawing at her arm in desperation, but the mark only seemed to sink deeper into her flesh. Asha’s vision blurred with tears as she sunk back on the bed. The whispers in the wall grew louder. Her body ached from exhaustion, but sleep refused to come. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw them: the creatures with their grotesque grins and clawed hands reaching for her in the dark.
And then there were the dreams, or were they memories? Visions of people she didn’t recognize flooded her mind: men and women dressed in old-fashioned clothing, their faces twisted in anguish as they screamed for mercy. She saw glimpses of rituals performed in secret chambers beneath the haveli, sacrifices made to appease some ancient evil that demanded blood and suffering.
Asha woke with a start, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. Her arm throbbed where the mark continued to spread, now reaching up toward her shoulder. She knew she couldn’t ignore it any longer.
The next morning, Asha made a decision. She needed help. There had to be someone who knew about the haveli’s history. Someone who could tell her what was happening to her and how to stop it.
The family lawyer's words echoed in her head: „You are the last of the Chouhan line. The haveli, and its secrets, are yours now.”
His words took on a whole new meaning!
She grabbed her phone and dialed his number. His secretary put her through to him.
„Good morning, Mr. Banerjee.”
„Ah, Miss Chouhan, what can I do for you? Have you settled in yet?” his voice was strangely restrained.
„Well, if you mean the strange noises...” Asha came straight to the point.
„I'm sure they're just rats or mice. The house has been empty for some time, Miss Chouhan!” he said quickly. Too quickly for Asha's taste!
„Mr. Banerjee, what do you know about the noises?” she asked sharply. There was silence on the other end of the line.
„You found the door, isn't it?” After a short time he asked with low voice.
„And the key, Mr. Banerjee.” Asha heard a sharp gasp.
„Did… did you open the door?” he asked fearful.
„I did!” she replied. With trembling voice she explained what had happened. Again there was silence on the other end of the line.
„You should never have opened the door,” he said finally, his voice heavy with dread. „That place is cursed, a stain on your family’s name.”
„And you didn't think it necessary to inform me about it? I know that now!” Asha snapped, frustration bubbling over. „But I need to know how to break this... whatever this is. And this is not all…” She described the mark on her arm and its unnatural movement.
Mr. Banerjee sighed deeply.
„Come to my office,” he said. „There are things you need to know, things your family tried to bury.”
Asha arrived at Mr. Banerjee’s office one hour later. His secretary led her straight to his office. He greeted her with a scrutinising glance.
„Miss Chouhan, please take a seat!“ he pointed to a chair next to his desk. Stack of old books and faded photographs were spread across it.
„Why didn't you tell me about this, Mr Banerjee?” she asked reproachfully.
„Your aunt wanted to protect you. That's why she made me keep quiet about it. She told me that she always warned you not to go near the door!”
Asha was silent for a moment. She should have taken her aunt's warning seriously! Her gaze lingered on the documents on his desk.
„What's all this?” she asked, pointing at his desk.
„This,” he said, pointing to a grainy black-and-white photo of a group of people standing outside the haveli, „is your great-grandfather and his associates.”
Asha leaned closer, studying their faces. They looked stern and solemn, except for one man whose eyes seemed almost... wrong.
„They were part of a secret society,” Mr. Banerjee continued. „They believed they could harness supernatural power by making sacrifices to an ancient entity they called ‘Kalratri’, the Night Eternal. That's why they sacrificed their children. They were obsessed with it.”
Asha’s stomach churned as he explained how generations of her family had been complicit in these rituals until something went horribly wrong decades ago. The entity turned on them, cursing not only those involved but their descendants as well.
„This is so sick! How could they!” stunned she stammered. Disgust crept up inside her. Disgust and guilt! Guilt over what her ancestors had done.
„That mark on your arm,” Mr. Banerjee said grimly, „is proof that Kalratri has claimed you.”
Asha’s head spun as she tried to process everything she’d just learned. „So what should I do?” she asked desperately. „How can I stop this?”
Mr. Banerjee sit silently. What should he do? He scrutinised the brave young woman sitting in front of him. He carefully weighed up his words.
„There may be a way…” Mr. Banerjee said hesitantly.
„What is it, Mr. Banerjee?” she asked fearfully but also curious.
„It’s dangerous, and there are no guarantees.”
He explained that breaking Kalratri’s curse would require returning to the haveli and performing a counter-ritual using an ancient manuscript hidden somewhere within its walls.
„You’ll need courage,” he warned her. „And you’ll need allies.”
Asha clenched her fists, determination hardening in her chest despite the fear gnawing at her edges.
„I don’t have a choice,” she said firmly. „I’m going back.”
Mr. Banerjee nodded.
As night fell once more, Asha prepared herself for what lay ahead. A journey not just into the heart of darkness but into her own family’s haunted past.
The haveli wasn’t done with her yet! And this time, neither was she.
The Echoes of the Haveli
With the last of her strength and trembling fingers, she somehow managed to put the key in the lock and turned it round. Her legs gave way and she slumped to the ground. Her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She greedily sucked the fresh air into her lungs. A welcome relief from the suffocating malevolence of the basement! Her heartbeat slowly normalised.
The relief at her escape gave way to paralysing fear. She looked around cautiously. But there was only the moon, casting an eerie silver light through the windows. The door she had escaped through was locked. No creatures followed her into the haveli. It was as if they were bound to the basement, unable or unwilling to step beyond its cursed walls. For a moment, she thought she was safe. But the whispers, those cursed whispers, still lingered in her ears, faint but persistent, like a splinter lodged deep in her mind.
With trembling hands, Asha reached for her phone, which she had dropped in her frantic escape. The screen was cracked, but it still worked. She hesitated for a moment, then grabbed it and stood up determinedly.
„Whatever this curse is, it must come to an end!” she muttered to herself.
She made her way to her room and fell onto the bed, exhausted, when she felt a pain in her forearm and hissed. She looked at her arm where the creature’s claws had grazed her. The wound burned, not just with pain but with something deeper, something unnatural. A strangled scream escaped her throat. She wasn’t free. Not yet.
As she stared at her arm, she noticed something strange about her wound. The skin around it was darkening, veins spidering out from the gash like ink spreading through water. Panic bubbled up inside her. She switched on the bedside light to get a better look..
The mark wasn’t just spreading, it was moving. The veins writhed under her skin as if alive, pulsing in time with an otherworldly rhythm she could feel in her chest. Her heart raced as she realized this wasn’t just a wound; it was a curse, a tether to whatever dark force resided within the haveli.
„No,” she whispered, shaking her head violently. „No, no, no!”
She tried to wipe it away, clawing at her arm in desperation, but the mark only seemed to sink deeper into her flesh. Asha’s vision blurred with tears as she sunk back on the bed. The whispers in the wall grew louder. Her body ached from exhaustion, but sleep refused to come. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw them: the creatures with their grotesque grins and clawed hands reaching for her in the dark.
And then there were the dreams, or were they memories? Visions of people she didn’t recognize flooded her mind: men and women dressed in old-fashioned clothing, their faces twisted in anguish as they screamed for mercy. She saw glimpses of rituals performed in secret chambers beneath the haveli, sacrifices made to appease some ancient evil that demanded blood and suffering.
Asha woke with a start, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. Her arm throbbed where the mark continued to spread, now reaching up toward her shoulder. She knew she couldn’t ignore it any longer.
The next morning, Asha made a decision. She needed help. There had to be someone who knew about the haveli’s history. Someone who could tell her what was happening to her and how to stop it.
The family lawyer's words echoed in her head: „You are the last of the Chouhan line. The haveli, and its secrets, are yours now.”
His words took on a whole new meaning!
She grabbed her phone and dialed his number. His secretary put her through to him.
„Good morning, Mr. Banerjee.”
„Ah, Miss Chouhan, what can I do for you? Have you settled in yet?” his voice was strangely restrained.
„Well, if you mean the strange noises...” Asha came straight to the point.
„I'm sure they're just rats or mice. The house has been empty for some time, Miss Chouhan!” he said quickly. Too quickly for Asha's taste!
„Mr. Banerjee, what do you know about the noises?” she asked sharply. There was silence on the other end of the line.
„You found the door, isn't it?” After a short time he asked with low voice.
„And the key, Mr. Banerjee.” Asha heard a sharp gasp.
„Did… did you open the door?” he asked fearful.
„I did!” she replied. With trembling voice she explained what had happened. Again there was silence on the other end of the line.
„You should never have opened the door,” he said finally, his voice heavy with dread. „That place is cursed, a stain on your family’s name.”
„And you didn't think it necessary to inform me about it? I know that now!” Asha snapped, frustration bubbling over. „But I need to know how to break this... whatever this is. And this is not all…” She described the mark on her arm and its unnatural movement.
Mr. Banerjee sighed deeply.
„Come to my office,” he said. „There are things you need to know, things your family tried to bury.”
Asha arrived at Mr. Banerjee’s office one hour later. His secretary led her straight to his office. He greeted her with a scrutinising glance.
„Miss Chouhan, please take a seat!“ he pointed to a chair next to his desk. Stack of old books and faded photographs were spread across it.
„Why didn't you tell me about this, Mr Banerjee?” she asked reproachfully.
„Your aunt wanted to protect you. That's why she made me keep quiet about it. She told me that she always warned you not to go near the door!”
Asha was silent for a moment. She should have taken her aunt's warning seriously! Her gaze lingered on the documents on his desk.
„What's all this?” she asked, pointing at his desk.
„This,” he said, pointing to a grainy black-and-white photo of a group of people standing outside the haveli, „is your great-grandfather and his associates.”
Asha leaned closer, studying their faces. They looked stern and solemn, except for one man whose eyes seemed almost... wrong.
„They were part of a secret society,” Mr. Banerjee continued. „They believed they could harness supernatural power by making sacrifices to an ancient entity they called ‘Kalratri’, the Night Eternal. That's why they sacrificed their children. They were obsessed with it.”
Asha’s stomach churned as he explained how generations of her family had been complicit in these rituals until something went horribly wrong decades ago. The entity turned on them, cursing not only those involved but their descendants as well.
„This is so sick! How could they!” stunned she stammered. Disgust crept up inside her. Disgust and guilt! Guilt over what her ancestors had done.
„That mark on your arm,” Mr. Banerjee said grimly, „is proof that Kalratri has claimed you.”
Asha’s head spun as she tried to process everything she’d just learned. „So what should I do?” she asked desperately. „How can I stop this?”
Mr. Banerjee sit silently. What should he do? He scrutinised the brave young woman sitting in front of him. He carefully weighed up his words.
„There may be a way…” Mr. Banerjee said hesitantly.
„What is it, Mr. Banerjee?” she asked fearfully but also curious.
„It’s dangerous, and there are no guarantees.”
He explained that breaking Kalratri’s curse would require returning to the haveli and performing a counter-ritual using an ancient manuscript hidden somewhere within its walls.
„You’ll need courage,” he warned her. „And you’ll need allies.”
Asha clenched her fists, determination hardening in her chest despite the fear gnawing at her edges.
„I don’t have a choice,” she said firmly. „I’m going back.”
Mr. Banerjee nodded.
As night fell once more, Asha prepared herself for what lay ahead. A journey not just into the heart of darkness but into her own family’s haunted past.
The haveli wasn’t done with her yet! And this time, neither was she.
reserving
will read and comment soon
Mannat Har Khushi Paane Ki
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