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Thank you for the heartwarming response on the characters. Every comment you left has helped me give a direction to the story.

The book will be updated daily (Mon-Fri), Starting Jan 01st 2025, if the feedback comes back on time. To unlock chapter one Feedback should come in by 28th December 11 PM IST. 350 inline comments. (Emojis will not be counted as feedback.)

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Loads of Love

Swati Sandeep

Sheetal Singh Randhawa slowly made her way down the familiar path, the frosty morning air brushing against her face, bringing with it a flood of memories. Each step was a little slower these days, but her spirit was undiminished, her heart still open, still hoping for one last miracle. As she approached the grand oak tree that had stood sentinel over so many dawns, she heard the gentle strumming of a guitar, a melody that echoed with the sparrows' morning song.

Her lips curved into a smile as she looked around for the boy. She found him seated beneath the sprawling branches, enjoying the early morning sunshine. Those Auburn eyes that shimmered with flecks of gold in the early light, lit up with a smile as he saw her walking towards him. His well-chiseled features and breathtaking smile reminded her of the children who were taken away from her too early in life. His sandy hair danced in the soft breeze, giving him a boyish look that she adored with every breath.

Like always, Dheeren was perfectly dressed in jeans and a jacket that fit him like a second skin. The London Times dubbed him as the ladies heart throb, but for her he would forever remain the child she raised. But it wasn't him that captivated her attention, it was the music. He played with a depth of emotion that resonated within her soul. Each note told a story of joy and happiness, of fulfillment. The sparrows flitted around him, drawn to the haunting beauty of his song, as if nature itself paused to listen.

As she stood there, tears welled in her eyes, as she remembered the ones she lost. The music transported her back to a time when her home was filled with laughter and joy. When Randhawa mansion was much more than the opulent walls and elegant furniture. It was her home! The one place she could be herself. If she closed her eyes she could still see her sons laughing, as he cooked their favorite parathas in the kitchen. She could feel Abhishek hugging her from behind. She could still see the spark of mischief in Dev's eyes. Sheetal missed the laughter, she missed her boys.

"Did I get it right this time, Girlfriend?" Dheeren's warm voice startled her out of her thoughts. She looked up with a smile, but Dheeren's smile faded away as he saw the tears in her eyes.

"Kya hua, Girlfriend? Phir se sad?"

Sheetal blinked away her tears and gently cradled his face. "Na, bacha. I am not sad. I am happy." She forced a cheerful note, "Yes you got it right. Abhi could not have done it better than you."
Dheeren shook his head. He did not believe that. The great Abhishek Singh Randhawa was a legend in music. His songs had once dominated the music industry. He was once dubbed as the Voice of young India. No one could compare to the man, his inspiration, his uncle.

"That is because you are very partial, Girlfriend. I do not have bade papa's talent." 

"You have much more than that, Dheer. You are gifted. If you had chosen music, you would have outshined your uncle."

Dheer lowered his head to hers. He knew she wanted that, but he had other goals. "You know this is not for me, Girlfriend...."

"I know you want to make a name for yourself in the Gaming Industry, and one day you will. Don't give up on music. It will help you in life. It's a healing, a blessing..."

"I will never give up music, Girlfriend. It may not be my calling, but it is my solace. Now enough of this serious talk, let me play you something good, something romantic. Something that will complement your beauty."

Dheeren strummed a note and Sheetal's face lit up with a smile. The boy always knew how to lift her spirits.

"Ache hai na?" Dheerein winked at her.

Sheetal nodded her head, the tune was as charming as her child.

"Is this for Kiara?"

"Kiara who?" Dheeren stopped strumming and gave her a puzzled look.

"Kiara Sharma, the girl you brought to dinner three weeks ago."

Dheeren still looked lost.

"The one with hazel eyes and long curly hair. You were even photographed together at the F1 race."

"Oh the chick with the hot as...." Dheerein winced when he felt a hard smack on his back. His grandmother was a very cool woman, but she drew a very firm line.

"Ouch, girlfriend. I was about to say Aston Martin. You sure have a dirty mind."

Sheetal shook her head. She knew exactly what he meant. The boy was 21 but was stirring quite a big storm among the ladies. With all the attention he received from the fairer sex she was afraid that he would never find the right woman. The boy had not known his mothers love, he was deprived of his fathers love before he turned twelve. She wanted him to find someone who could compensate for everything he lost. She wanted Dheeren to have what both her sons were blessed with. True love.

"Don't try to dodge the question, was the question for her?"

Dheer flashed his dimples as wrapped his arms around her slender shoulders. "You have set the bar too high, girlfriend. Every chick pales away in comparison."

"Dheer......"

"Dheerien Singh Randawa was born to enjoy his life. Why compromise with one beauty when I am surrounded by a sea of them? Kind of unfair don't you think?"

Sheetal let out a deep sigh. It was impossible to argue with the boy. "One day you will find true love, Dheer. That day you will change your tune."

"True love and happy ever after is only limited to fiction, girlfriend. I believe in writing my own story. Live life king size. Who needs a queen  by his side. Are wah! Kya shayari hai na?"

Sheetal gave him a swat for his efforts, "Stop talking nonsense, and drop me to the temple. I am already getting late."

Dheerein set the guitar away and held his grandmother's hand gently, "Ek baat batao, girlfriend. Aapke paas sabkuch hai, to phir aap yeh rooz rooz apne Ramji se kya maangte hoon? What is it that the great Yash Singh Randhawa's wife is missing in her life?"

Sheetal's smile faded away. "Jane de, Dheer tu nahi samjhege"

"Kyun nahi samjhunge? Aap ek baar batake to dekho, girlfriend. Phir woh cheez chahe asmaan ka taara he kyun na ho, main aapke leye le aoge."

Sheetal gently caressed his face. He looked so much like his first born that her heart skipped a beat. "Kuch bhi le ayega?"

"Even the moon, all you have to do is ask"

"And if it is not something that you can give?"

"Come on, Girlfriend. I am the heir to Yash Singh Randwa. There is nothing that I cannot have. Nothing I cannot buy."

Sheetal shook her head, her eyes filling with sadness. "Not everything can be bought with money, Dheer."

"Everything has a price, girlfriend. All you have to do is find the right price, once you do, it's yours for the taking."

Sheetal looked away. That was the misconception that her husband once shared. It took him 30 years to realize his mistake. Dheer was following in her husband's footsteps. She was terrified that he would end up like Yash.

The town fair was in full swing, as the community gathered to celebrate Ganapati Visarjan. The air was filled with the mingling scents of fresh flowers, incense, and delicious street food, creating an intoxicating atmosphere. The streets were alive with people of all ages, dressed in their festive best, their faces glowing with excitement and devotion. Children ran about, their laughter echoing through the air, while vendors called out, showcasing their wares - everything from colorful bangles to mouth-watering sweets.

In the center of it all stood the grand idol of Lord Ganesha, adorned with vibrant garlands and shimmering decorations. As the overhead sun shifted into shadows, the energy of the fair heightened. In the midst of the celebrations, a young man with auburn eyes and well-defined features moved gracefully through the crowd, making his way to his stall. His simple yellow kurta fit him to perfection, making him stand out from the crowd.

Seventeen year-old Devansh Singh Randhawa, watched with a knowing smile as the ladies discreetly admired his brother. As always, Dhruv Singh Randhawa remained blissfully unaware of the attention he garnered, focused solely on his task. A true businessman who never let go of any opportunity to cash on.

"That looks delicious." A young lady said as she reached Dhruv's stall. The colorful assortment of food and the delicious aroma made her mouth water. "How much for the meal?"

"It's on the house, lady. What would you like to eat?" Dhruv smiled, revealing his dimples, even as his hands whipped up a fresh batch of chapatis.

The young woman's eyes widened in surprise. "Free? Seriously?"

Dhruv nodded his head, "Like I said everything on the house. What would you like to taste today?"

"Hey I know you" The girl's eyes softened as recognition dawned on her. "You won the Master Chef competition a few years back. Dhruv Singh Randawa!" She almost swooned remembering the 25 year old home cook had taken the culinary world with a storm. That was four years ago. Now the man was a very popular chef. "Your restaurant is the bloody best in town. I never got a chance to even book a reservation. How come you are here today?"

Dhruv quickly packed a box for her and politely handed it to her. She was blocking the line. "I came for my mother." Dhruv said as he gently nudged her aside but the young lady was too fascinated by him to take the hint.

"Your mother, is she here?"

"You are keeping the line waiting, lady." A sharp female voice cut through their conversation. Devansh smiled as he saw his sister, step between the two of them. Her grey eyes, cool and piercing, bore through the young lady, forcing her to take a step back. Her glance held a silent warning, an unspoken message of "stay away" that kept everyone at a respectful distance. The young lady stood no chance against her. She quickly excused herself and ran away as if caught on fire.

Dhruv chuckled again as he handed his twin, a glass of cold Lassi. "Drink that you need to cool off, angel."

"Don't Angel me" Dhiti hissed as she grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the stall. They had  helpers to do the job, Dhurv did not have to slave over the stove, but her twin never listened.

"You have been working since morning, Dhruv. Take a break." She forced him to sit down on the only plastic chair available, and handed him the lassi. "Drink before you faint."

Dhrvu smiled but did not reach for the glass. "I made it for you."

"Are you fasting again?" Those grey orbs turned frosty, glinting with anger as she shook her dainty head in disapproval. Her dark brown curly hair cascaded around her face in untamed waves, adding a touch of wildness to her otherwise composed demeanor.

"Poochne ke zarurat hai," Devansh chimed in, unable to remain as the silent spectator any longer. "Bhaiya aajke din khale to Tsunami aa jaye, kyun, Bhaiya?"

The minute they heard the voice, the twins turned around in shock.

"Dev?" Driti shrieked in delight as opened her arms for him, "Aa gaya mera bacha?"

Dev rushed into her arms, and buried his face into her warmth. He had missed her terribly. She held him closer to her chest as she whispered into his ear, "How did the audition go?"

Dev tensed as he looked at his Bhaiya. "Baad me bataoga," He whispered back and stepped away from her embrace and walked to his Bhaiya.

"Nahi kahaya na?" Dev shook his head reproachfully, but when Dhruv opened his arms for him, he melted into his embrace. Seven days away from his siblings proved a real challenge. Dhruv gently ruffled his hair. "Kuch khaya?"

Always the caring one, Dev could not help but smile. It was that love shackled him and his dreams. "Ji. Aur aapka kya?"

"Tugjhe dekh leya na? To peth bhi bhar gaya."

Dev rolled his eyes, and grabbed a bottle of coconut water from his backpack. He knew his Bhaiya would fast. It's been seven years since they lost their mother on Ganapati Visarjan. Every year since then, Dhruv fasted in their mother's memory. Dev knew Dhruv loved their mother the most, her loss left a huge void in their life.

"Pe lo. Coconut water hai. Mumma kehtey the na le coconut water pee sathey hai, fasting ke waqt? To unke he baat maan lo aap. Have it."

Dhruv hesitated but  Driti grabbed the bottle, uncapped it and forced it into his hands. "Pe warna abhi injection leke atey hoon"

"Really?" Dhruv crossed his arms across his chest. "Tughe lagta hai main dar jaoga?"

"I got my medical kit, Dhruv. I am not lying. Abhi leke atey hoon injection."

The twins glared at each other both unwilling to back down. In the end it was Dhruv who backed down. His need to win was overpowered with his fear for needles. He made a big show of finishing the drink before handing her the empty bottle. "Now let me go back to work, angel. The crowd is increasing. The staff won't be able to handle the rush."

He did not give her a chance to protest and rushed back to the stall. Dev trailed behind him, hoping to catch a quick moment. He wanted to talk to his Bhaiya. Since Dhruv was in a cheerful mood, Dev knew he would not get a better chance.

"Can I have more curry?" A little boy asked the helper who was setting up fresh boxes.

"Of course you can," Dhruv said as he reached for the curry. Once he topped it with a generous quantity he closed the lid and handed it back to the boy.

"How much, uncle?" The young boy asked.

"It's on us, buddy. Enjoy the meal" Dhruv ruffled the boy's hair and moved him along. A steady stream of devotees lined the counter. It was not everyday that they got to taste the master chief's delicacies for free.

"Free, seriously?" Dev's voice filled with shock, his auburn eyes turning a deeper shade of gold . "Did you say, free?"

A warm chuckle was the only answer he received. Dev grabbed the serving spoon from Dhruv's hand and dumped it back in the wok . He could never understand Dhruv Singh Randhawa. On one side the man counted every penny, on the other side he splurged on charity.

"You spent eight hours slogging over the stove, Bhaiya. It's not a joke. It's your effort, look at these people. I am sure they can afford to pay. They will not appreciate your effort."

"Everything is not about money, Dev. Baith. I will make you something."

Dev shook his head, refusing to remain silent. "Aap he kehtey ho na ke hume life me pracical hona chaye? We should have realistic goals. Money doesn't grow on trees. Then why are you wasting your time and money? You could make lakhs in this event. People will kill to have one dish served by you. Why are you doing this?"

"For Mumma." Dhruv's eyes softened. "She used to do this every year."

"She was not Chef DSR." Dev shook his head. "Your name is a brand, Bhaiya. You worked hard to get here. Why waste all the effort?"

Before Dev could answer a soft melody filled the air, weaving through the crowd like an enchanting spell, drawing people in with its magical embrace. A group of young teens stood together and formed a semi-circle, each holding an instrument as they brought the crowd alive with their harmonious notes. Dev's eyes softened as he heard the girl singing. She had the voice of a nightingale.

"Now that's what I call a sincere waste of time" Dhruv's voice brought Dev crashing back to reality. "These idiots should be studying, instead forming groups and wasting their parents' hard earned money." Dhruv whipped up a paneer paratha and handed it to Dhruv. "Idiots"

Dev looked at the happy faces of the teens, their passion reflected in their happy smiles. Music was never a waste, it was always a solace, but Dev did not dare to voice it out.

"I am glad, you do not have such dumb dreams." Dhruv's voice filled with relief. "My child is not an idiot"

Dev smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. Dhruv was too busy to notice it.

"How did the seminar go?"

Dev nodded his head, unable to muster more lies. Before Dhruv could question more, a staff called him for help. Dev got up and rushed out. The lies were getting to him. Every day became a burden. He could not even look into his brother's eyes without feeling regret. He almost reached the exit when Driti cornered him. She was waiting for him to come. Dev saw her and quickly hugged her. Driti gently guided him away from the crowd, knowing well that he would soon break down into tears. Dev was the most sensitive one. She wished he had inherited their mothers temperament instead of their fathers.

"Baat keya Dhruv se?" Driti pulled back and gently cradled his face.

Dev's eyes misted. He tried to blink them away, but a stray tear betrayed him. Driti quickly wiped it away. "Rotey nahi, bacha. Isme tere koi galti nahi hai."

"Yeh galat hai, jiji" Dev's voice filled with agitation. "I can't live like this anymore. Bhaiya ko sabkuch bata dunga. Phir jo hoga dekha jayega."

"Pagal ho gaya hai?" Driti hissed, "If he finds out he will force you to drop out of college. Mumbai Music School is the best in the country. You got through on the first attempt. You cannot give up your dream."

"And I should deceive Bhaiya to achieve my dream? The day he finds out....." Dev's voice shook with fear. "He will never forgive me, Jiji. He will hate me forever."

"Dhruv tughse kabhi nafrat nahi kar skata. Bacha hai tu uska. Apne haton se pala hai humne tughe. Tere khushi se badke humhare leye kuch nahi hai, beta."

"Isleeye aap mughe Bhaiya ko dhoka dene ke leye keh rahe hai?"

Driti sighed. "Dhruv bohot ziddi hai, Dev. Tu kehta bhi to woh nahi manta aur tu uske khelaf kabhi nahi jata. I don't want to give up your dreams. Give me some time, I will convince him. Main khud sab kuch bata dunge."

"Aap teen mahene se yahe keh rahe ho, jiji. Aab mughe dar lagne laga hai. Bhaiya hates music. The only reason he let me take the training is because Maa convinced him. If he finds out I am pursuing music and not BBM, he will never forgive me."

"Dev...."

"Woh dad ke naam se nafrat kartey hai, jiji. He won't forgive me."

Driti gently pulled him into her arms. She hated hearing the sadness in his voice.

"One day soon, Dhruv will understand, Dev. We only need to be a little patient. Remember what Maa used to say? When we lose all hope, God sends us an angel to solve our problems. We only have to wait for the angel to come and do his job."

"And when will this angel come?"

Before Driti could answer the evening air filled with the sound of drums.

"Ganpati Bappa Morya" The devotees chanted as the final procession began. They saw Dhruv walking towards the idol, struggling under the weight of Bhog offering. Dev rushed away to help him. Driti saw Dhruv's smile and felt a pang in her heart. She was deceiving the one man who stood by her through everything. When the truth came out, she would lose his trust and respect forever. All her life she was upfront, speaking her mind. She did not know one deception could change her life.

She could not hurt Dhruv, nor could she let Dev give up his dreams. So she did the only thing she could. At that time she thought it was the best solution. Now she was scared that it would shatter her happy family. As the brothers performed the aarti together, she prayed with all her heart for a miracle. She did not know if god reality sent angels, but her family needed a little miracle now. For seven years Dhurv held their small family together, doing his best to offer them a safe home. If the truth came out Dhruv would be left hurting. Their happy home would shatter. If that happened, Driti could never forgive herself.

"Send us the angel, mumma. We really need one" A sigh escaped Driti's sigh. If only wishes could come true.

Do take a minute to voice your opinion.

A- What is your take on prologue?

B- Your first impression on these characters:

1- Dheerein Singh Randhawa

2- Dhruv Singh Randhawa

3- Driti Singh  Randhawa

4- Dev Singh Randhava