It was a calm Thursday evening, and after a long, exhausting day of meetings and work, Arnav Singh Raizada stepped into a cozy restaurant, hoping for a quiet meal to unwind. He'd always preferred the peace and solitude of smaller places, away from the crowded noise of the city and the pressures of his high-profile life.

He found his corner, placed his order, and settled in, trying to push away thoughts of the constant buzz of work that never seemed to stop. The warm atmosphere of the restaurant, the soft background music, and the aroma of freshly prepared meals should've been enough to relax him, but his mind kept wandering back to the stress of his responsibilities.

It was then that he heard a soft giggle—so pure, so genuine, it cut through the haze of his thoughts. He looked over at the table next to him and saw a young girl, he thinks he has seen her somewhere.It was hard to ignore the sound of her laughter, and for a brief moment, Arnav wondered why it felt so comforting. He had seen many children, but something about this girl's carefree energy felt almost magnetic. As if on cue, she looked up and spotted him, her eyes widening in recognition.

"Hello office uncle" she said, her voice loud and confident.

Arnav blinked, taken off guard. He hadn't expected to be recognized in a place like this, especially not by someone so young. He smiled politely, though his curiosity was piqued. "Yes?" he replied, tipping his head toward her in acknowledgment.

"I saw you outside my mama's office! You were the on who taught me to cross that rotating door!" The little girl's voice was filled with wonder, like seeing him outside her mama's office was the most exciting thing that had happened to her all week.

Arnav chuckled, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips finally remembering who this little angel was. "You have a good memory. That was me."

The little girl grinned from ear to ear, clearly pleased with herself. "You looked like a boss! Mama says bosses are always important people."

Arnav raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Does she now?"

The girl nodded seriously. "Yep! Mama says you do a lot of important things and wear suits all the time. Are you also a boss? I see you wearing suits always."

Anya—he now knew her name—was so confident, so full of life, that Arnav felt his lips curl into a warm smile. He wasn't used to this kind of straightforward, unfiltered honesty. It was refreshing in a world where most people only showed what they thought you wanted to see.

"She's right," Arnav said.

Anya tilted her head, considering this. "Really?" she asked, sounding very skeptical, as if she found it hard to imagine this fun loving Uncle as a boss.

"Really," he said with a soft chuckle.

"But bosses aren't funny. They always work and give works to others. I have seen in movies" she wondered.

Arnav couldn't help but laugh again, amused by how seriously Anya took her little observations. He found himself wanting to engage more with her. Her innocence, her way of seeing the world—it was different. There was a purity to it, something that made him feel oddly lighter.

As the conversation continued, Anya's eyes began to sparkle more and more. She chatted freely about her favorite foods—pasta, soup, pancakes, and of course, her mother's cooking. But then, without any hesitation, she said, "Mama says food is important because it makes people happy."

Arnav was struck by that. Something about the way she said it felt profound. It makes people happy.

"I think your mama is right," Arnav said softly. "Food does make people happy."

Anya beamed. "Mama's smart, isn't she? She knows everything! She says if you have good food and good people, everything's okay."

Arnav paused at her words. He hadn't realized how much he needed to hear something like that. Good food, good people.

Anya's voice broke through his thoughts, her next words soft, almost as if she were confiding in him. "Sometimes I think Mama works too much, though. She doesn't smile as much when she works. I want her to smile more. She smiles more when I'm around."

Arnav's heart tightened at her words. It was a small thing, a child's observation, but it hit him hard. It reminded him of how he used to pick his so called parents expression as well. All he wanted as child was to be loved by his parents but all he got was indifference. However he got love from his baba and dadi but the scar of indifference was itched in his soul.

Arnav smiled gently. "Maybe you can remind her to laugh, then, by being around her more."

Anya nodded seriously, her expression filled with determination. "I will! I'll tell her it's okay to smile. Like you smile when you talk to me."

Her words took him by surprise. He hadn't realized how much he was smiling when talking to her. But she was right. Her energy, her innocence—it was contagious. And in a way, it reminded him of what he had missed as a child—having someone to just be with, to enjoy the little things with.

"You're a smart girl, Anya," he said quietly, his voice filled with something almost tender. "Maybe you can teach me how to smile more too."

Anya beamed at him, so proud of herself. "I will! I'll teach you lots of things! Like how to be happy!"

Just then, Garima, looked over with a soft, warm smile. "She's been talking about you ever since we sat down," she said, her voice filled with affection for her granddaughter.

Arnav nodded, his heart inexplicably lighter. "She's a wonderful little girl. I think she's already teaching me something."

Garima's smile deepened, though there was a touch of sadness in her eyes. "She doesn't have a father figure in her life... sometimes, I think she looks for someone to show her things, to be there for her. But she's also incredibly strong for her age."

Arnav's chest tightened. He know what that feels like, he thought, remembering his own childhood, the years of loneliness, the absence of love, and the emptiness that had followed him throughout his life.

He looked at Anya again, watching her chat animatedly about something trivial, yet important to her. There was a bond forming between them, something quiet but undeniable. And in that moment, Arnav realized that perhaps they both needed something the other had.

A child who didn't have a father to guide her, and a man who had never been loved the way he needed to be. It was a rare thing to find someone who could fill a void so silently, so simply. But with Anya, Arnav felt connected in a way he hadn't in years.

When he stood up to leave, Anya waved enthusiastically, her small hand almost disappearing in her excitement. "Bye, Uncle! See you again soon! Don't forget to smile, okay?"

Arnav nodded, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I won't forget. You take care, Anya."

As he walked out of the restaurant, a warmth lingered in his chest, a warmth he hadn't realized he'd been missing. And for the first time in a long time, Arnav felt like maybe, just maybe, someone cared.

The soft hum of classical music plays in the background, and the familiar scent of lavender and sandalwood fills the room. Khushi sits across from her therapist, Dr. Mehra, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She feels a little disoriented, unsure of where to begin. It's been a few weeks since she started coming to these sessions, and while she's shared bits and pieces of her life, today feels different. She knows there's something deeper, something unresolved, gnawing at her. But she's not sure if she's ready to confront it.

Dr. Mehra watches her intently, sensing her hesitation. She gives Khushi the space to breathe, knowing that it often takes time for her clients to open up fully.

Dr. Mehra: [Gentle, reassuring] "Khushi, you don't have to say anything if you're not ready. But I can tell you're carrying something with you today. What's on your mind?"

Khushi shifts slightly in her chair, her eyes wandering to the window, watching the way the light falls over the plants outside. She doesn't know how to say it. She's been here for a while, yet the truth feels so hard to voice.

Finally, her voice breaks the silence, but it's soft, almost fragile.

Khushi: [Quietly] "I don't know how to move forward, Dr. Mehra. I feel like I'm stuck. I don't know if I'm supposed to keep running from my past... or if I should confront it. But when I try... it just feels like I'm trapped."

Dr. Mehra leans forward slightly, her gaze warm but firm, urging Khushi to continue.

Dr. Mehra: [Gently] "It sounds like you're caught between two paths—one that keeps you in the past, and one that asks you to move forward without knowing how to. What does your past look like, Khushi? Can you share with me what happened?"

Khushi exhales slowly, her chest tight as the memories rush in. She tries to steady herself, but the weight of her words feels heavier than she imagined.

She shifts her gaze to her therapist, her voice trembling slightly as she begins to speak about her past, a place she's been reluctant to revisit.

Khushi: [Softly, eyes downcast] "I was 22 when I got married. I thought it was what I was supposed to do. My parents were so excited—my whole life, they had planned it for me, and I just went along with it. I didn't know how to say no to them... or maybe, I was just too scared to disappoint them."

Dr. Mehra listens intently, her silence encouraging Khushi to keep talking.

Khushi: [A little choked up] "But it wasn't like I imagined. At first, everything seemed perfect, like I was living in a dream. But... soon it became a nightmare. He... he wasn't who I thought he was. Ahaan, my ex-husband... he became cruel. He controlled everything. My clothes. My time. My choices. He made me feel... invisible. Like I wasn't allowed to have my own voice. And when we had our first child... it was like I was trapped in a life I couldn't escape from."

There's a long pause, and Dr. Mehra waits, sensing the emotional weight behind Khushi's words.

Khushi: [In a barely audible whisper] "He didn't even love her, Dr. Mehra. Our first daughter... he didn't even care. And when I was pregnant with our second, I didn't know... he... he forced me to have an abortion when he found out it was a girl. I didn't even get a choice. He didn't care what I felt, what I wanted. It was his decision... always."

Tears begin to pool in Khushi's eyes, but she quickly wipes them away, furious at herself for showing vulnerability. But the pain is too deep, and she can't contain it anymore. She feels herself breaking, not just in this moment but in the years that have passed since.

Khushi: [Quietly, as if speaking to herself] "I should have known. I should have left him sooner. I should have fought back. But I couldn't. I was so lost... so suffocated. I didn't know who I was anymore."

Dr. Mehra's voice is steady and compassionate, as she speaks carefully.

Dr. Mehra: [Softly] "Khushi, what you went through was trauma. It wasn't your fault. You were in a situation that many people could never understand, and it's okay that you felt lost. Sometimes we do things because we're trying to survive, not because it's the right choice. You did what you had to do to get through that chapter of your life."

Khushi nods, her chest tightening as she takes a slow, deep breath. The therapist's words comfort her, but they don't completely ease the pain. The scars are still there—hidden beneath layers of forced smiles, professionalism, and a façade of control.

Khushi: [Softly, with hesitation] "I divorced him. I sent him to jail for what he did. But it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like I was just... getting rid of a piece of myself. I feel like there's a part of me that's still stuck there. And now... now I can't move on, Dr. Mehra. I don't know how."

Dr. Mehra looks at Khushi with deep understanding, offering her a gentle, knowing smile.

Dr. Mehra: [Kindly but firmly] "You're still healing, Khushi. Moving forward doesn't mean forgetting the past. It's about acknowledging what happened, giving yourself the grace to heal, and then finding a way to live your life again, without the weight of that past hanging over you."

Khushi looks up at her therapist, the words sinking in, but she still feels uncertain. The road ahead seems so long, and she doesn't know where to begin.

Khushi: [Quietly, almost in a whisper] "I don't know if I can trust again. I've kept myself so guarded for so long. I've been afraid... afraid of opening up to anyone, afraid of being vulnerable. I thought I could do it alone, but... sometimes I feel like I'm drowning."

Dr. Mehra leans in, her voice soft but grounded.

Dr. Mehra: [Gently] "Khushi, trusting again isn't about being reckless or naïve. It's about knowing that you deserve love, respect, and kindness. It's about recognizing that you are worthy of connection, but also setting boundaries to protect yourself. And that's something you get to decide. It's not about rushing. It's about taking small steps when you're ready."

Khushi exhales, her shoulders relaxing just a little. It's not much, but it's something. She's hearing what she needs to hear, even if she doesn't fully believe it yet.

Khushi: [With a quiet, hopeful vulnerability] "But how do I know when I'm ready? How do I know when to let someone in?"

Dr. Mehra smiles softly, her voice warm but with a hint of gentle encouragement.

Dr. Mehra: [Softly] "You'll know when you trust yourself again. And when you do, you'll find that it's not about letting someone in completely all at once. It's about giving yourself permission to let people in, piece by piece, when you're ready."

Khushi sits back in her chair, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. She feels lighter in some ways, but the journey ahead still feels daunting. It's a slow process, she knows, but for the first time, there's a spark of hope—a small, quiet reassurance that she can begin to trust again, to heal, and to let go of the chains that have bound her for so long.

As the session comes to a close, Khushi stands, offering Dr. Mehra a small but genuine smile.

Khushi: [Quietly] "Thank you, Dr. Mehra. I... I think I have more to think about now."

Dr. Mehra nods, a soft and knowing smile on her face.

Dr. Mehra: [Gently] "Take your time, Khushi. Healing doesn't happen overnight, but you're on your way."

Khushi walks out of the therapy room, her heart a little lighter, her mind buzzing with new thoughts. For the first time in a long while, she feels like maybe, just maybe, she can move forward. Slowly, cautiously, but with a glimmer of hope.

Iss tarah se aur kabtak jeena hai?

Mai haar gya iss jeene se.

Koi abr ude kisi kulzum se,

Ras barse mere weerane par.

Koi jaagta ho, koi kudhta ho,

Mere der se waapas aane par.

Koi saans bhare mere pahlu me,

Koi haath dhare mere shaane par.

Aur dabe dabe lahje me kahe,

tumne ab tak bade dard sahe,

Tum tanha tanha chalte rahe,

Tum tanha tanha jalte hai.

Suno tanha chalna koi khel nahi.

Chalo aao mere humraah chalo.

Chalo naye safar me chalte hai.

Chalo mujhe bana ke gawah chalo.

( How long do I have to live like this?

I am defeated by this way of living.

Some cloud flies from a storm,

As rain falls over my desolation.

Someone is awake, someone is jumping,

On my return after a long delay.

Someone breathes beside me,

Someone rests their hand on my shoulder.

And in a soft voice, they say:

You've endured so much pain,

You walked alone all this way,

You burn alone all the time.

Listen, walking alone is no game.

Come, walk with me, my companion.

Come, let's embark on a new journey.

Come, make me your witness and walk.)

A few days later, Arnav found himself jogging along with his grandfather in the park. Doctor has suggested Arjun workout to keep himself healthy but he often find excuse to not do it thus Arnav decided to join him.

Anya: [From behind him, shouting with excitement] "Uncle!"

Arnav turned around, a surprised laugh escaping him when he saw Anya running towards him, her small legs working in an excited frenzy. She was holding an ice cream cone, and there was a giant smear of chocolate ice cream on her cheek.

Arnav: [Laughing softly, amused] "Hey there! That's some serious ice cream you've got there."

Anya: [Grinning, raising her cone proudly] "It's the best ice cream in the world! Want some?"

Arnav looked at her, surprised by the generous offer. He had always been more reserved when it came to personal space, especially with people he didn't know well. But the sincerity in Anya's eyes made it impossible for him to decline.

Arnav: [Chuckling, shaking his head] "I'm good, thanks. But that looks like it might get all over you if you're not careful."

Anya tilted her head thoughtfully, then smiled mischievously. Without warning, she took a small step forward and carefully swiped a bit of the ice cream from her cone and playfully dabbed it on Arnav's sleeve.

Anya: [With a mischievous giggle] "There. Now we both have ice cream!"

Arnav stood still for a moment, blinking at the spot where the ice cream had smeared on his suit. He couldn't help but laugh.

Arnav: [Smiling softly, shaking his head] "You've got me there, Anya."

Her innocent laughter rang in the air, and Arnav found himself laughing along with her. It was so unexpected—such a small, playful moment that brought him a kind of joy he wasn't used to. He wiped the smear off his sleeve, still chuckling.

Arjun: [smiling amused to see Arnav interact with a child that too this sweetly]"And who do we get here?"

Anya:" I am uncle's friend. Hai na uncle?" she asked arnav.

Arnav:[smiling] Yes baba she is my friend Anya." and they both chatted a bit.

Arnav: [Lightly teasing] "Alright, alright. But you owe me a dry cleaning bill."

Anya: [With a big, innocent grin] "I'll get my mommy to pay for it!"

Arnav raised an eyebrow, amused by her boldness.

Arnav: "Your mommy, huh? Well, I'll be sure to tell her how generous you are."

Anya nodded earnestly, her little face filled with mischief.

Anya: [Excitedly] "Yes! Mommy always says I'm a good girl. She'll say it's okay."

It had been a few weeks since Arnav first met Anya in the park, and every time they crossed paths, he found himself growing fonder of the little girl. Despite his usual reserved nature, he felt a certain tenderness toward her, something that went beyond the casual meetings. He didn't know exactly why—he wasn't someone who usually got attached to children—but there was something about her that made him feel... different.

One day, he saw Anya playing near the swings while her nanny and grandmother, was sitting on a bench nearby, talking to a friend. Arnav, who had come for his usual stroll in the park, found himself instinctively walking over to her.

Anya: [Looking up as she saw him approaching, grinning] "Uncle! Look! I can swing so high now!"

Arnav stopped and watched her for a moment. There was something so pure in her excitement, in her innocence. It reminded him of how simple things could bring joy, how easy it was to find happiness in the smallest moments. He smiled softly, genuinely touched by her enthusiasm.

Arnav: [Nods, smiling warmly] "That's impressive, Anya. Be careful though, you don't want to go too high and fall off."

Anya nodded sagely, then continued swinging with even more enthusiasm, her laughter rising into the air. Arnav found himself standing there for a while, quietly watching her.

He didn't know why he felt so protective of this little girl—someone he barely knew—but the connection he felt was undeniable. It was a simple bond, pure and unspoken, one that didn't require much effort but made him feel like he mattered to someone, in a way he hadn't felt in a long time.

As Anya swung higher and higher, she looked back at him with a wide grin.

Anya: [Yelling playfully] "Uncle! Catch me if I fall!"

Arnav's heart gave a little flutter at her words, and he couldn't help but take a small step forward, instinctively ready to catch her if she fell.

Her innocence, her trust, it was so disarming. He wasn't used to being around people who made him feel this way—so vulnerable, yet so full of warmth. He smiled, watching her, a feeling of affection growing in him that he couldn't quite explain.

As he stood there, watching Anya's joyful, carefree laughter filling the air, Arnav felt a deep, unspoken connection to the little girl—an unexpected tenderness toward her. Little did he know, this connection was only the beginning of something much deeper, something that would slowly begin to entwine him with Khushi's world in ways he wasn't yet ready for.

But for now, he was content to be there—watching, protecting, and simply being part of this moment.

THANK YOU!