Finally did the Shree Ganesh of my writing journey.
Thank you everyone for liking my OS and everyone who supported me and guided me. Thank you iPK ORGANIZERS, Stuti thank you for connecting me to Bhavi and Bhavi for the collab on the edits for the contest so I could send my entry for the contest.
I'd really appreciate if I get feedback on this OS good or bad so It can motivate me and help me to improve on my writing
The Storm and The Diya
10:00AM
The snow-peaked mountains were cloaked in mist and chilly winds. Nestled at the edge of a pine-covered ridge was the Serenity Cove Retreat, where AR Designs had offsite training.
Arnav stood by the window, watching the drizzle and regretting that he had agreed to this madness. He was about to make his way inside when he noticed her.
She was sitting with her sketchpad in the corner of the outdoor gazebo, staring at the mountains. Her face seemed serene—until he noticed the furrow of her brows and pout as she sketched. She sat alone, away from the group, unnoticed by everyone.
Except one—
Arnav Singh Raizada.
The Night Before — 9:00 PM
She had wandered off unintentionally, curiosity leading her to the restricted wing where construction expansion was underway. Khushi found herself trapped inside the barely stable wing, alone in the dark with creaking wood and shuddering silence. She screamed for help.
Hours passed before the incessant rain slowed and everything was quiet, when someone came calling for her.
It was him.
He called out, “Khushii, Khushiiiii.”
Before she could respond, Arnav grabbed her arm—angry, cold with fear.
“Do you have any idea what could have happened? What were you doing here alone?!” he shouted.
Khushi, shivering and dust-covered, stared at him with wide, furious eyes.
“You think I did this on purpose? If I knew this was restricted, would I wander here out of curiosity? Why do you always assume the worst?” Her voice cracked.
“You’re so reckless! If something happened to you, I’d be held responsible—and you small people always wait for such opportunities to play victim and make money out of it!” he snapped.
“No, you're judgmental,” she spat back. “Paisa hi sab kuch nahi hota! Haisiyat se jyada bhi insaan ki koi pehchan hoti hai. Par aap ko kya, apko apne ilawa koi dikhta hi nahi! Aapka sirf gussa hi nahi, aapki poori zindagi galat buniyaad pe bani hai!”
The words hit harder than she expected. Arnav’s gaze dropped. She realized he was still her boss. Alarmed, she covered her mouth and avoided his eyes like a startled kitten.
He found it amusing. Suppressing a smirk, he told her to get back to the resort and not wander off again—like a child being scolded.
1:00 PM
The sun bathed the mountains in golden light. Arnav stood at the trail’s edge behind the retreat, facing the rising sun.
He heard footsteps.
It was her, holding a package.
“I was just passing by,” she said awkwardly. “I heard it’s your mother's birthday today.”
He sighed.
She continued, “Your eyes... they’re like your mother’s, aren’t they?”
He scoffed—bitter, broken.
“Please stop. You have no idea what it feels like losing your parents.”
Khushi froze, then gave a sad, distant smile.
“I wish no child had to lose their parents. I was eight,” she said softly. “I didn’t know what death meant then.”
She placed the package on the table and ran. In her rush, her shawl slipped, revealing bruises—echoes of last night’s grip, filling him with regret.
He opened the package. It was a sketch of his mother—not the stiff formal photo at AR, but mid-laughter, as if caught in a moment only he remembered. Her eyes sparkled with joy, reserved for him, when he’d cling to her or crack some silly joke.
For the first time in years, he smiled. This brought back beautiful memories lost under the storm. Realization dawned.
How did Khushi know?
Maybe… maybe she gave him what she had always wished someone had given her—a glimpse of a parent smiling, alive in memory.
And that broke something in him.
Because while he had shut out the world in his pain, she had somehow understood it… and responded with kindness. She had lost her parents at eight, with barely any memories to hold on to—yet she still found ways to spread light.
Now at eighteen, she was working to provide for her foster family.
She had no privilege. No safety net.
Only grit, innocence, and a kind heart.
She was surviving in this cruel world like a flickering diya in a storm—fragile, yet determined to glow.
While he was always scoffing at her because he was terrified of the emotions she evoked in him, she trusted him with a piece of her soul, with her deepest pain without any expectations.
He felt ashamed of himself and whispered, “Khushi,” like a prayer.
8:00PM
He found her at the gazebo.
“Khushi,” he called very softly.
She turned to leave.
“Sorry. I am really very sorry,” he said remorsefully.
He saw her eyes well up with tears. She blinked and asked, “Why? I don’t want sympathy.”
He said gently, “You deserve an apology… and thank you for the sketch. It’s beautiful. And Khushi, if and when you ever feel like sharing more… you can talk to me.”
Khushi gave a small, grateful smile. “Thank you for asking. Someday, I’ll share.”
He nodded in understanding.
She lightened the moment, saying, “Sorry and thank you together? Aap bohot ajeeb ho!” and then burst out laughing.
He admired her laughing freely, a rare smile gracing his lips.
Her laughter was a fragile spark in the darkness—a light so pure and fierce, it made him ache. He wanted to shield her from every storm life could throw her way.
In that moment, all he felt was the burning need to be her guardian, the one who would never let her flicker fade into shadow.
He whispered to himself, “Protect her.”
Devi Maiyya smiled, for the storm was over—and the diya, once flickering in the wind, now burned unwavering, a tender flame of love strong enough to mend what life had broken. A true love that would be built on respect, understanding, and trust.
CID
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
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