This is based on Kis Desh, but with the very different characters of ASR and Khushi. I will make changes to the storyline and characters as need be. People who know the story, please don't ruin it for others. 😊I know I suckwaa because I have a couple SS and FF's that I have totally ignored and you deserve to hate me. But I couldn't help but write this, and maybe even continue it depending on reaction 😃 Please give me feedback. Any comment will be appreciated, even if it is "you suck. leave IF." 😆 Also, if you are reading my FF and haven't read "Of Lemons and Limes", uh what? Get on that, NOW. I just started and finished it today and fell in love with it... so excuse the ranting that was uncalled for. 😃 But srsly. READ IT. Omorabati, if you read this... you are the Pooja Mishra to my Sanaya Irani. You rocked my world. 😳 Anyways. Sorry for that. Happy reading y'all.
(I don't have awesome sauce ppl to make me banners, so cr. goes to me. 😆)
Part One
"Chotte, you must. Please." Anjali extended the parcel containing holy water and flower garlands towards her scowling brother, adorning her face with the best sympathy pout she could muster. Arnav rolled his eyes, and snatched the parcel out of his sister's hands, choosing to ignore the sly smirk of triumph that played across her gloating face as he examined the contents of the parcel.
Arnav Singh Raizada cherished time, and having to drive out to the old, forgotten and desolate Shiv mandir to deliver his sister's blessings was not something he looked forward to. But Anjali Jha was coy and manipulative, and she knew he was wrapped around her fingers, trapped in the hands that raised him. She had a mother's hands. Rough and worn through the years of taking responsibilities which were never meant to be hers, but gentle and soothing, homely and warm. "Di. This is it. No more favors." And with that final proclamation and an acclaim worthy "umph", he tucked the parcel under his arm, swung his keys around his finger and walked out of Shantivan's doors, leaving a giggling Di behind him.
*************
Arnav was not a man easily scared, but even he had to admit, the abandoned Shiv mandir was downright terrifying. With night looming and the unmistakable signs of movement in the surrounding forest, even the mighty Arnav Singh Raizada stepped cautiously as he made his way up the uninviting slope. There was only a lone shivling in the mandir according to his Di, and Arnav had scavenged the entire stone encased temple searching for it, only to be proven unsuccessful. Finally, he was able to discover ominous stone steps hidden in overgrown grass and weeds, and he treaded up slowly, darkness hindering his vision. Upon reaching the end of the incline, he wandered a bit, only to stop when his eye caught a lone trace of white peeking through the dark thistles of trees and bushes. He walked in that direction, weary and exhausted, hoping the statue would be nearby, but he gaped at what he witnessed next, suddenly curious as to if he were actually asleep and dreaming.
He laid eyes on a girl draped across the Shivling crying uncontrollably.
She was a vision dressed in white, her dupatta covering her long locks of raven black hair and collecting her incessant tears, her small, pale hands trembling as her sobs shook her entire body. Arnav felt his heart freeze and his throat go uncomfortably dry at hearing her desperation. Never had he felt such a natural pull to help a woman, or anybody for that matter. This stranger affected him, and her pain pierced him, but the sensibility he was famous for seemed to be unaware of how to deal with such a foreign matter. Of their own accord, his legs wandered and crouched down to where she was sprawled. Her back was facing him, and he felt a need to turn her around and examine her face, perhaps to smooth out the traces anguish and pain that would be etched into her features.
"Stop being stupid Arnav." Despite what his Di said jokingly, he knew he was capable of some limited range of feeling. He used whatever little part of his brain that was still functioning to muster up "humanity" as a justification for his actions. Yes. Good, old fashioned humanity. Any normal human that could feel affection would want to help this afflicted girl. But as he lifted a hand to place on her shoulder, she stiffened instantly, sensing his invading presence.
The stranger stood up abruptly and covered her face with the free end of her dirt covered dupatta, turning around to meet his honey brown eyes with her own tinted emeralds. Silence. Utopia. Arnav felt his frozen heart thaw and pump fresh blood to every cell of his body. Time stopped, and all that kept him rooted to the ground were those strikingly beautiful eyes. Hazel green eyes rimmed with grey and speckled with brown. Her tinted emeralds. Shining with fear, an open book revealing anxiety, pain and misery. Beautiful eyes tainted by despondency. How he wished to reach across and glimpse at the rest of this woman's hidden face, but she turned and ran down the moss eaten steps, leaving only a lone payal in her trail, even before he could ask her name.
STOP. There are way too many awesome writers on this site. So with every update, I'll share a story that touched me, so it can touch you too. Today, "Of Lemons and Limes": https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/3213154/ss-of-lemons-and-limes-1-chapter-1-6
My not as awesome sauce index of works: URL Not Available
Pati Patni Aur Panga
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
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