Yeh Rishta Kya Kehlata Hai - 30 July 2025 EDT
CRYING FAMILY 29.7
TRIALS OF BOND 30.7
Kyunki Saas bhi kabhi Bahu thi 2 : EDT # 1
Anupamaa 29 July 2025 Written Update & Daily Discussions Thread
Anupamaa 30 July 2025 Written Update & Daily Discussions Thread
Param Sundari song Pardesiya out now
Emotional support 😢 animal 😍😍🥰🥰🥰 silly boy ☺️☺️☺️
🤱Surrogacy: Womb For Hire ! Is It A Blessing Or A Curse For Women?👶
Sitaare Zameen Par Straight to YouTube
Will WAR 2 Surpass Saiyaara
After so long we see Katrina with Vicky
Who did it better?
Anupama back to Shah house , at Baa's feet !
21 years of Mujhse Shaadi Karogi
War 2 Run Time 3h 5m
Chhaava continues to remain the biggest HIT of 2025
Hi everyone! So sorry for the late post but I had a family emergency come up so I had to travel out of town unexpectedly where I didn't have access to my laptop on which I had the OS saved. Thank you to Pallavi for being so understanding with all this and dealing with all my PMs. 😛 Anyways, here's my OS on picture 26, entitled "Her Essence." It's completely unrelated to the actual YHM scene but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Please excuse any mistakes, I didn't have a lot of time to proofread. 😊
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Her Essence
He picked up the crisply ironed peach shirt that was set out beside the brown suit for him. He threw his wet towel on the bed, as he pulled on his trousers and swiftly buttoned the shirt under his blazer. It was perfect; his favorite suit with his favorite shirt, both would hopefully prove to be lucky for today's meeting with Mr. Tandon. Except...the top button of the shirt was missing.
"Ishita!"
He gathered the files he needed for today's meeting, while he waited for his wife to respond. A few seconds later, he heard the click of the door opening, but to his dismay, it was Ruhi that stood in front of him.
"Papa, Ishima is making my tiffin right now. She said she will come as soon as she is done."
Glancing at his phone to check the time, he saw that he only had a half hour before the meeting. Shaking his head and muttering under his breath at his wife's lack of time available for him nowadays, he grabbed the sewing kit from the cupboard and sat on the couch to attach the missing button himself.
He felt the sharp prick of the needle on his finger and instinctively stuck it into his mouth seeking comfort. The unattached button fell from his hands simultaneously and skittered across the marble floor, rolling into the darkness underneath the desk. Throwing the needle back into the sewing kit, he went in search of the lost button. Kneeling down to look beneath the desk, he felt around the small area and pinched his fingers to clasp the first object he encountered.
Pulling his hand out from under the desk, he found himself holding a small gold earring instead of the button that he had been searching for. Placing the stud into the palm of his hand, he stroked the ridged pattern of the earring with his thumb, as the corners of his mouth curved into a soft smile. This was the missing earring that she had been looking for the other day. He stood up and walked towards the dressing table on the opposite side of the room.
Placing the earring safely into her jewelry box with its partner, he closed the lid and began to walk away when his eyes caught sight of the row of colorful bindis that were stuck on the bottom edge of the dressing table mirror. He peeled one off, the deep maroon one that she had been wearing just yesterday, and stuck it on to the back of his hand. He frowned for a brief second and adjusted the bindi so it was positioned on the webbing between his thumb and first finger, in the exact spot that she would sneak a soft kiss when he handed her his empty chai cup at the breakfast table every morning. He touched his mouth to the bindi with closed eyes, imagining the softness of her lips on his skin. Laughing quietly at his silliness, he stuck the maroon dot back on the mirror, placing it carefully between the pale blue and parrot green ones, where he had originally found it.
As he adjusted the bindi into place on the mirror, his hand knocked against the various bottles that were clustered on the dressing table. He caught the tube of hand lotion just before it rolled off the edge of the table; Pink Chiffon, it was labeled. He opened the cap and squeezed a dollop onto his palm. Rubbing the cream into his skin, he stroked the smoothness of his own hands and inhaled deeply, recognizing the familiar sweet aroma. She always made it a point to moisturize her hands just before joining him in bed; it was her nightly ritual. She would pull the blanket up to her waist and turn to her side so she lay facing him. He would gaze into her eyes, as she ran her fingers across the rough stubble on his cheek, tracing the outline of his jaw, the molecules around his face becoming faintly perfumed with her Pink Chiffon.
Setting the lotion upright on the dressing table, he picked up the bottle of perfume that had fallen over. It was the one he had gifted to her a few months ago in an effort to apologize for missing Ruhi's annual day function. He held the bottle up to the light and tilted his head as he looked at the amber liquid. It had a citrusy aroma with mysterious undertones of some warm spices; alluringly enigmatic, just like her. Inhaling quietly as he uncapped the bottle, he was reminded of the special nights that she had spritzed the scent into the crook of her neck, inviting him to become lost there. Placing the bottle beside the hand lotion, he quickly cleaned up the other scattered tubes, setting everything back into the same clustered organization that she liked.
He observed that the upper drawer of the dressing table was half open, so he pulled it out and surveyed the neat arrangement of her large cosmetics collection. In the corner was a tube of rose-colored gloss that she wore almost on a daily basis. He would complain to her if she didn't, as he missed the characteristic strawberry flavor of their evening kiss on those days. He saw a tiny make-up mirror that had her fingerprints on the glass; he wiped away the smudges with the edge of his blazer before putting it back alongside the lip gloss. Her hair brush lay next to the mirror. It had a few strands of her long hair stuck in it, so he picked them out gingerly and let them float to the ground. The faint smell of her coconut shampoo infused the air as he tucked the comb back into the drawer. He shook his head with a chuckle as he brushed his hand over her large collection of lipsticks, eye shadows, liners, blushes, and whatever else she thought she needed to paint her face with to look presentable. He had told her countless times that she was beautiful enough without all these things. He found her to be at her prettiest in the mornings, when she woke up beside him, her face flushed with pleasure, hiding the secrets of their passionate nights.
He closed the drawer and went back to the desk to resume his search for the lost button. Just as he bent over to look under the wooden structure, his elbow hit the pen holder that was balanced precariously at the edge of the tabletop, scattering a number of pens in the vicinity of the desk. He gathered them together, stroking the ends that she had chewed on, remembering how she habitually stuck pens into her mouth and bit the plastic with her front teeth mindlessly when she was thinking. It was a dead giveaway if she borrowed any of his pens because there would always be bite marks on the end. He would often pretend to be irritated with her over the matter, but he secretly caressed the indents left behind by her teeth whenever he chanced upon a chewed pen in the office. Gathering them all up into a bunch, he placed the pens back into the pen holder and shifted the cylindrical container to the back of the desk.
Just as he bent down to look for the button again, his eyes caught sight of a book that was on the desk; Rabindranath Tagore's Gitanjali, the book of poetry that she had bought from a nearby flea market. They had gone for an evening stroll after dinner one day upon Ruhi's insistence to have ice cream for dessert. Wandering through the alleyways behind their apartment building, they had emerged in an abandoned parking lot, which was converted into a bustling open air bazaar every Sunday evening. He had rushed off behind Ruhi to buy the ice cream, but she had gone off in the opposite direction when she had caught sight of a pile of books that were hidden away into one small corner of the busy market. The father-daughter duo had polished off their ice cream cones by the time she had finished her book shopping. He had watched from afar as she bargained with the bookseller, shaking her head from time to time and carefully counting out the bills from her wallet after agreeing on a reasonable price. He ran his hand across the book's cover to smooth out the ruffled pages now, opening it randomly to the page that had a bookmark. The text was in Bengali, a foreign language for her, but she had vehemently refused the bookseller when he had tried to sell her the translated English edition, adamant that she only wanted the authentic Bengali version if he had it. She had spent several sleepless nights sitting on the couch by the window in their room, her reading nook she called it, tucked away into a soft cashmere blanket, engrossed in the book. She had translated and re-translated the lines herself with the help of an online dictionary and multiple websites that offered varied analyses of the famous poems. She had softly penciled in the English translations next to each line, several marks visible where she had erased and written revised meanings. He read the poem on the page he had opened to, Only Thee. She had written the English title in her swirly script, adjacent to the printed Bengali text.
That I want thee, only thee --- let my heart repeat without end.
All desires that distract me, day and night,
are false and empty to the core.
As the night keeps hidden in its gloom the petition for light,
even thus in the depth of my unconsciousness rings the cry ---'I want thee, only thee'.
As the storm still seeks its end in peace,
when it strikes against peace with all its might,
even thus my rebellion strikes against thy love
and still its cry is ---'I want thee, only thee'.
To his bemusement, he noticed that she had written "Only Thee Raman" in the margins of the page and drawn hearts around his name, as though she was a teenager fantasizing about her first crush. As sensible and mature as she was with most things, she could be strangely childlike in some matters too, like choosing stubbornly to translate an entire Bengali book into English herself when she could have just as easily purchased the English version to begin with. He tucked the bookmark back into page 87 of the book and placed it in the nearby bookshelf. He then crawled under the desk and felt his fingers close around a small circular object, sighing with relief when he realized that he had managed to find the button this time around. Emerging from beneath the table, he walked towards the couch. Sitting down, he grabbed the needle from the sewing kit again, but became distracted upon feeling a hard lump under the seat.
Lifting up the seat cushion, he picked up an almost-full bottle of aspirin. Scrunching his eyebrows with confusion, he tossed the medicine into the drawer of her bedside table. As he sat back down on the couch with the needle and button, he recalled her pained sighs a few nights ago. He had come home later than usual from the office and had found her tossing and turning on the couch, clasping her lower abdomen with the pains of her monthly discomfort. She had popped a few pills of pain reliever into her mouth just as he had turned on the lights. Startled by his sudden arrival, she had jumped off the couch to heat up dinner, but he had led her to the bed and forced her to lie down comfortably, informing her that he had already eaten. He had tucked the quilt around her body and massaged her lower back until she had fallen asleep. He shook his head remembering the embarrassment on her face when his hand had touched her lower back. Even after so many months of marriage, she was still shy about her womanly matters. He was jerked out of his thoughts hearing the ringing of his cell phone. Picking up the call immediately upon seeing Mihir's name flash across the screen, he listened carefully for a few seconds.
"Yes Mihir, I'm just leaving the house. I'll be there in ten minutes."
He ended the call and pushed the sewing kit off to the side as he glanced at the watch on his wrist. There were just 15 minutes left for the meeting to start, so he had no choice but to change his shirt and leave right now or else he would be late. Just as he began to take off his jacket so he could change into a new shirt, he felt a pair of hands tugging softly at his collar. She stood in front of him, dressed elegantly in a sea green chiffon dress. Her long hair was curled at the ends and pulled over to one side, splaying casually over her left shoulder. The lone diamond bracelet on her wrist glinted in the light as her hand moved up and down, stringing the needle and thread through the button, securing the plastic wheel onto the fabric of his shirt.
He felt the molecules around him become permeated with her essence, the quiet air in the room becoming charged with energy from her mere presence. He found his arms automatically wrapping around her waist and drawing her body closer to his. She continued to work quietly, seemingly unperturbed by his advances. She was close enough for him to feel her warm breath on his chest. Her flowery scent filled his nose, intoxicating him, making him forget both his earlier irritation at being ignored as well as his urgency to leave for the meeting. She drew her mouth close to his body, cutting the thread with her teeth, her moist lips grazing his skin seductively. She remained in that position for a second longer than necessary, as though she was willingly meting out the sweet torture to him. Moving her face away from his chest, she hid her mischievous smile as she finished buttoning up his shirt for him and tidying his collar.
Clearing her throat as she pushed his arms away from her curves, she tapped her wrist to remind him of the meeting that was due to start soon. He ignored her actions and continued to stare at her flushed face, pushing her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"A little dressed up to go pull out teeth, no?"
She slapped his arm playfully, but her eyes glittered with excitement and anticipation, a rosy blush creeping up her glowing cheeks, as though she was waiting to hear something particular.
"So what's the special occasion then?"
"As if you don't know." Her reply was a whisper; he would have missed it if he wasn't standing just a few inches away from her.
"Nothing that I can remember." He winked at her naughtily before releasing her body from his hold. She looked disheartened for a brief second, but recovered within a blink. Just as he picked up his files from the desk where he had placed them earlier, she let out an annoyed sigh at seeing his wet towel on the bed. He rushed out of the room before she could yell at him and she looked on at his vanishing figure with disappointment.
She picked up his towel and hung it on the hook in the adjoining bathroom, after which she opened the cupboard and pulled out her usual outfit, a two-toned magenta and beige sari today with contrasting black silk embroidery along the border. Just as she closed the cupboard door, she felt his arms around her abdomen, as he caressed her from behind.
"Happy birthday my love." He whispered into her ear, his lips brushing against her earlobe, as he turned her around so she was facing him.
She melted into his loving embrace, as he pulled her even closer to himself, molding his body to perfectly fit her every curve. They stayed like that until his phone rang to alert him of his lateness again. He chose to ignore the ringtone, instead pressing the power button to turn off the device and savor the intimate moment with her. He led her to the couch by the window and they sat together; her frame leaning comfortably against his chest and his left arm tossed casually over her shoulder, as his fingers tickled the milky skin exposed by the plunging back of her dress.
"Who reminded you?" She asked quietly as she toyed with the button on his shirt, the one that she had sewn a few minutes ago.
"Seeing the balloons that I stuck onto every inch of the living room walls last night." He replied with a laugh, embarrassed that he had forgotten to wish her this morning after making all the efforts to decorate the living room last night once she had fallen asleep. She laughed along with him, her melodious voice sounding to him like wind chimes on a breezy monsoon day.
She sighed with contentment, nuzzling her nose deeper into his neck. He hummed a birthday tune aloud for her, following the collective rhythm of their quickening heartbeats. As the song came to an end, he tightened his hold around her body possessively and drew himself towards her, touching his lips to the corner of her mouth, hungrily sucking on her strawberry pout as he realized that he had missed breakfast.
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❤️ Nivi
Originally posted by: shravani_2311
@pretty_h
its awesoem...i love raman's romnce and ishu's seducings...loving making was prfct...finally ishu pregnant...im in love with it...
Geet - Hui Sabse Parayee
Bade Achche Lagte Hain Naya Season
