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Vote :- 200
Comment:- 100

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So guyzz, I'm here to ask a question. Is it really hard to drop a vote. Seriously not to mention a single chapter is have 1.5k views approx and not even 200 votes. Its the last time I'm updating without the completion of votes, and yes also comments are necessary.

Did you guyss ever, know for getting the enotional structure of story stronger and the writing good i have read a ton of books. And still you guyss are doing this, its very disheartening to see this.

But however.

Enjoy reading ✨️

The first scene, till the tulip arrives again is a past scene. It was the day when akshita realized her love towards him.

The first scene is a past.⚠️

The night had fallen gently over the city, cloaking it in a velvet hush. A gentle wind tiptoed through the open window of Akshita's room, lifting the sheer pink curtains like whispers of forgotten dreams. The moon hung high and full, bathing everything in silver light, its glow spilling across her white-and-rose bedsheets like soft blessings.

Her room looked like it belonged in a fairytale-delicate and personal, every inch screaming of the girl who lived within it. The pale blush walls were littered with polaroids and vintage posters, and in the far corner, a stand held her most prized possessions-her guitars, ukulele, a set of headphones she guarded like treasure, and pages and pages of lyrics written in her delicate handwriting. Her vanity shimmered with little perfume bottles, scrunchies, books of poetry, and one friendship bracelet tucked beneath a jewelry box-the thread fraying, but the memory intact.

Akshita lay on her bed in her oversized hoodie, legs curled beneath her, the soft notes of a piano instrumental playing low from her Bluetooth speaker. Her hair spilled over the edge of the bed, cascading like a waterfall of ink against the pastel bedsheets. She wasn't asleep. She wasn't tired.

She was lost.

In memory.

In him.

In Avyansh.

Her fingers absentmindedly traced the stitching of her pillow as her mind pulled her into the echo of a laugh, a glance, a hallway - the way Avyansh used to nudge her shoulder when she was upset, never saying much, just showing up. The way he'd lean beside her against the library wall, reading a different book but occasionally stealing glances. How he'd act annoyed when she sang aloud, but his eyes always softened like he was trying not to smile.

They were friends.

Just friends.

But weren't the most sacred loves born in friendship first?

The moonlight kissed her skin like reassurance as the realization began to bloom in her heart. It started like a ripple-gentle, hesitant-and then like a wave crashing into the shores of her soul.

She loved him.

No, it wasn't sudden. It wasn't new.

It had always been there, hidden in moments that seemed ordinary but were, in truth, extraordinary.

The day he saved the last seat in the canteen without asking.

The time he consoled her when she got injured.

The way his voice dropped ever so slightly when he said her name.

Akshita's eyes welled up, not from sadness but from awe. It was so clear now. Her love wasn't loud or needy. It was devoted, like an eternal flame that didn't ask for anything in return-just the joy of being near him, the privilege of knowing him.

In that moonlit room filled with fairy lights and forgotten songs, Akshita's heart echoed a truth ancient as time.

She didn't just love him like a schoolgirl crush.

She loved him with the quiet power of Sita, who followed Ram to the forest not because she was told, but because love for her meant standing beside him through everything-even exile.

She loved him with the unshaken loyalty of Radha, whose love for Krishna didn't demand marriage or promises, only a soul-deep connection that danced through lifetimes, myth and memory.

She loved him with the passion of Sati, who defied the world and its rules, choosing her love even in fire, only to be reborn as Parvati, proving that true love always finds its way back.

Akshita wasn't a mythological figure.

She was a girl, lying on a bed adorned with soft toys, diaries, and music notes.

But in that moment, she was also more.

She was a devotee, a lover, a believer.

Every heartbeat sang his name now.

She thought of all the times she teased him, bickered with him, rolled her eyes when he wouldn't admit he cared. And she thought of the silent way he watched out for her, the small sacrifices he made without acknowledgment, the way he'd always been there-the one constant in her chaotic world.

He had never stepped into her world of pink drapes and perfume bottles, but somehow, he existed in every corner of it.

"How stupid I've been," she whispered into the stillness, a tear escaping down her cheek. "He was always it."

The moon seemed to listen.

It glowed brighter, casting her face in soft luminescence, like it, too, was trying to hold the sacredness of the moment. The air smelled of jasmine from the plant outside her window, the same scent she remembered from the school garden-where he once waited after class, pretending it was a coincidence.

She got up and walked toward her mirror.

She looked at her own reflection-not as the girl everyone saw at school, bubbly and full of laughter-but as someone who had discovered something holy. Her heart had picked him long ago. She was only now catching up.

Her fingers ran across the bracelet in the jewelry box-the one he had tied around her wrist in the month of August, half-jokingly, half-sincerely, during Raksha Bandhan when everyone else was doing it too. She never wore it because she didn't want to call him brother. He had laughed it off.

But that day she went home, heart aching for a reason she couldn't name.

Now she knew.

It was love.

She walked back to her bed, pulled the covers over her, and looked out at the moon one last time before shutting her eyes.

"I love you," she whispered into the night.

Not hoping he'd hear it.

Just needing the universe to know.

Because some loves are not made to be shouted from rooftops.

They are made to be lived quietly, deeply, eternally.

Like Radha's melody.

Like Sita's strength.

Like Parvati's rebirth.

Akshita's love for Avyansh was not the kind that demanded recognition.

It was the kind that became her identity.

And the moon bore silent witness to it all.

The past ends here_____________

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

PRESENT :-

The classroom smelled of new paint and old tension.

It was a chemistry room unlike most. Not the usual depressing cement-block box with screeching fans and peeling walls. No. This one screamed luxury. Cream-coloured walls with crown mouldings, switchboards that looked smarter than some students, and a board so white it reflected everyone's grades back at them. Even the floor tiles were polished enough to see your reflection-and your lack of will to study.

At the front stood Mr. Patil.

A legend. A threat. A daily dose of dictatorship.

He wore his usual off-white shirt, tucked into trousers that were older than most of the class. His mustache bristled like a guard dog, and his voice carried the weight of fifty years of disappointment.

"Today," he announced, already fuming, "we begin with alkanes. Saturated hydrocarbons. Unlike your saturated brains."

Pens scratched across notebooks. Except for the last middle row.

There, the Five Nuisances sat. Akshita. Vedika. Ishaan. Siddharth. Avyansh.

A group so academically brilliant-and so behaviorally disastrous-that even toppers sitting near them considered relocation.

Akshita leaned over to Vedika, barely hiding her smile.

"If clouds had legs, would they wear jeans?"

Vedika blinked. "What-like... above or below the knees?"

Akshita snorted. "Boot-cut or skinny?"

They collapsed in their textbooks, shoulders shaking.

Ishaan, overhearing, dramatically stared at the whiteboard.

"Guys," he whispered. "That molecule... it's crying. It looks like a half-drawn caterpillar with commitment issues."

Siddharth groaned, pen tapping. "That's not a caterpillar. That's butane."

Avyansh, trying to focus, rubbed his temple. "That's my brain shutting down."

He scribbled notes anyway. The responsible one. The calm center. But his eyes-

They wandered.

To Akshita.

Laughing, lit up, alive.

He blinked once. Looked back to his notebook. Just a friend. Just... familiar.

But Akshita?

She stole that glance and tucked it into her soul like a secret. Her smile faltered for a second. Then returned, brighter.

She loved him. Always had.

He hadn't realized it. Not yet.

Back at the board, Mr. Patil's voice climbed.

"Hydrocarbons are simple! Like your answers in the last test. And here-see this structure-this is ethane. NOT a bird. NOT a dancing chicken. ETHANE!"

Ishaan leaned forward. "Sir, I swear on my future, that thing flapping on the board is a crow."

Vedika muttered to Akshita, "Looks like a fried shrimp."

Akshita couldn't breathe.

And just then, the door creaked open.

All heads turned.

In walked the Principal Sir-dressed in his navy blue Nehru coat, his silver-rimmed glasses catching the sunlight from the window. His hands, as usual, folded behind his back in that signature stance that made every student sit straighter without meaning to.

Mr. Patil nearly saluted.

"Ah, Sir!" he straightened up.

He smiled softly, looking directly at the class.

"I won't take much time. Just a quick announcement. As this is your final year, the school management has decided to gift you a memory. A farewell field trip. To Vrindavan."

The class exploded.

Cheers. Gasps. A few students clapped without knowing why.

"The trip will begin in three days," he added. "So be prepared, behave, and do not test my mercy. Or Mr. Patil's blood pressure."

Akshita whispered to Vedika, "Was that shade? That was shade."

Vedika's eyes sparkled with a different light now. "Trip means pictures. Pictures mean outfits. Outfits mean-"

"Shopping," Akshita whispered.

Vedika stood up in her seat with the kind of declaration energy used by war generals. "Okay, listen up, uncultured swans. We are going shopping. It's not just a trip, it's a farewell moment. And I'm not wearing my last-year-of-school sadness in last-season jeans."

Ishaan raised his hand. "I vote yes. For both the trip and for never wearing jeans again."

Siddharth sighed. "I knew something big was coming. My wallet just fainted."

Akshita laughed. "Mine died. But it died beautifully."

All eyes turned to Avyansh.

As usual, leaning against the desk. Silent. Reserved. Watching the chaos unfold like he was part of it, but also... separate.

"Avyy," Vedika called out dramatically, "you in or not?"

He blinked slowly. "I'll come."

Akshita tilted her head. "With enthusiasm or with Avyansh-level emotional flatline?"

He looked at her. "I'll come because... you'll be there."

She didn't answer. She just smiled.

And everything inside her melted into fireworks.

Then it happened.

Mr. Patil-who had been writing furious chemical equations on the board-finally snapped. The marker dropped from his hand like the mic of a losing rapper.

"What are you ALL doing?!"

The class froze.

"Last row!" he roared. "The chatterbox parliament! Are you here to learn chemistry or open a shopping mall?!"

The five stood slowly like condemned criminals.

Ishaan mumbled, "Here we go..."

"OUT!" Mr. Patil bellowed. "Get out of my classroom. I'd rather teach empty benches than witness your madness!"

As they marched out:

Ishaan muttered, "It's like he's personally offended by joy."

Siddharth added, "I bet he scolds plants when they photosynthesize too loudly."

Vedika laughed. "Hydrogen atoms are shaking."

Mr. Patil grumbled, "This generation. No manners. No seriousness. Only hair gel and Instagram reels!"

Siddharth turned back just as they reached the door. "Sir, please. Have mercy. Look at these handsome faces."

Akshita snorted, loud enough to echo. "Handsome? Have you ever seen your own face, Sid? It's like a potato tried contouring."

Ishaan gasped. "And failed!"

Vedika added, "Looks like a soggy samosa with confidence."

The hallway echoed with their laughter as they spilled into it, still giggling.

Akshita walked slightly ahead, heart lighter, glancing sideways.

And yes-Avyansh was beside her. Calm. Collected.

She looked at him again.

He didn't turn.

But he smiled.

Just a little.

And even that was enough for her.

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

The sun filtered softly through the grand windows of the Rasinghanya Mansion, casting golden patterns across marble floors and silk curtains that danced with the breeze. It was quiet - too quiet - until their Princess entered.

Wearing a loose tee and pale blue cotton shorts, her braid slightly messy from her nap, Akshita strolled into the lounge like it was her runway. Anklets tinkled. Her soft steps made everyone turn.

She dropped onto the couch like royalty settling on a throne and, with the most casual air, said:

"So... there's a school trip coming up. And I was thinking, maybe I'll go. Also, kal shopping chahiye, okay?"

Pause.

Then, the room stirred.

Her Baba, seated with his laptop, paused mid-scroll.
His eyes lifted. "Trip?" he said, his voice soft. "Princess wants to go?"

From across the room, Bade Baba lowered his glasses.
"Trip? Our Princess? Haan... so she can leave us all behind for a few days and we'll do what- stare at her photos to survive?"

Before Akshita could even smile, two shadows approached.

Her elder brothers - sons of Bade Baba, but heartbeats of her childhood - entered with the speed only sibling panic brings.

"What's this I heard?" said the elder, arms already folded. "Princess is going away? Without us?"

The younger one raised a brow, slumping beside her dramatically.
"You said trip? As in you leave home, we don't see you, and we pretend we're okay? Not happening."

"Guys," Akshita laughed softly, brushing hair behind her ear. "I just said I might go. Not that I'm moving out."

Her Baba smiled gently. "You don't have to explain, Princess. But when you say you'll be away... suddenly this house feels too big. Too quiet."

Bade Baba gave a warm sigh. "And you know... when you're not around, even tea doesn't taste right."

Akshita blinked. Her lips parted to respond - but just then, her Mumma arrived, reading every face in the room in a glance. She walked over and sat beside her daughter, gently tugging her into her lap.

"Bas bas," Mumma said with a small smile, stroking her hair. "She just mentioned a trip and you all formed a rescue committee."

Akshita leaned into her mother, her voice a soft pout. "Mumma, they're acting like I said I'm going to Mars."

"Exactly," came the soft chime of Badi Mumma's voice, walking in with a silver bowl of chilled fruit. She placed it in front of akshita and offered her a mango slice.
"Our ladoo only said she wants to go. And instead of asking when or how - everyone's already decided she won't."

The brothers exchanged looks.

Baba rubbed his temples, "We just... can't imagine this home without her in it. That's all."

"Not even for a day," said the younger brother.

"Especially not for three," added the elder.

Akshita smiled - small, but full. She reached for the mango, still cuddled into Mumma's lap.

But then, quietly, she stood.

They knew where she was going before she took her second step.

In the back courtyard, under the old neem tree, sat her Dadu - in his soft white kurta, a book in hand, as always, waiting. Not just for her steps. But for her.

She walked to him silently, sat beside him on the swing, and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Dadu..." she whispered. "I just said I want to go on a trip. And everyone behaved like I dropped a bomb."

He smiled, warm and easy, as if he'd been waiting for that exact sentence.

"That's because, Gudiya," he said, stroking her hair, "you're not just loved in this house - you're needed. Your laugh keeps it alive. Your footsteps give it rhythm."

"But Dadu," she said, "I'm not going forever. I just... wanted to be excited about it."

"And you should be," he said gently, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.
"This family may panic, may argue - but you're their world, gudiya. Without you, time moves slower. Even happiness waits."

She smiled against his chest - eyes closed, heart full.

Because while the whole house revolved around her like stars around the moon...

Dadu was the sky who never let her fall.

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

The sun had mellowed, casting a soft gold hue across the gleaming marble floors of the Rasinghanya Mansion, where everything - from the Italian chandeliers to the butler-drawn curtains - echoed quiet power and polished elegance.

And yet, all that luxury took a back seat when Akshita, their Princess, entered the room hand-in-hand with Dadu.

Her cheeks still carried the warmth of his hug, and her eyes gleamed with mischief - she had already whispered to him everything, about how the "CEO Council of Overprotectiveness" had practically fainted just because she said the word trip.

The moment they stepped in, the men straightened like guilty schoolboys.

Her Baba, in his crisp linen shirt, shut his MacBook a second too quickly.
Her Bade Baba, still in his kurta but now on the edge of the couch, blinked like he'd been caught mid-crime.
Her two brothers - heirs to half the business empire - looked like they were trying to blend into the furniture.

Dadu cleared his throat dramatically.
"Wah re mere sheron... bada kaam kar rahe ho aajkal. Stock market sambhalte ho, factories chalaate ho... lekin apni Princess ke ek sapne ko handle nahi kar paaye?"

[Wow, my lions... you're doing great work these days. You manage the stock market, run factories... but couldn't handle one dream of your Princess?]

Baba scratched his neck. "Papa, woh bas trip ki baat thi toh-"

[Papa, it was just a discussion about a trip-]

"Wahi toh!" Dadu cut in, eyes twinkling. "Sirf baat! Aur tum logon ne aise react kiya jaise gudiya ne empire bechne ka plan bata diya ho!"

[Exactly! Just a mention! And you all reacted like the doll announced a plan to sell the empire!]

Akshita sat on the royal divan with the poise of a reigning queen, trying hard not to laugh.

"Aur tu!" Dadu turned to the younger brother. "Jisne college ke har fest ke liye private jet maanga tha... ab bol raha hai trip pe na jao?"

[And you! The one who demanded a private jet for every college fest... now you're saying she shouldn't go on a trip?]

The younger one groaned. "Dadu! Mujhe bas tension hoti hai! Agar Princess thoda bhi uncomfortable ho gayi toh?"

[Dadu! I just get worried! What if Princess gets even a little uncomfortable?]

The elder added, "Exactly! She's too delicate. Luxury air follows her. Trip pe AC bhi mood ka poochhega kya?"

[Exactly! She's too delicate. Even luxury air follows her. On the trip, will the AC ask about her mood too?]

Bade Baba attempted diplomacy. "Baba ... it's not like we don't trust her. But... you know na... woh is ghar ki rooh hai."

[Baba... it's not that we don't trust her. But... you know... she's the soul of this house.]

Dadu rolled his eyes with a grin. "Haan haan. Isiliye rooh zara hawa mein udhne ka sochti hai, toh aap log chhatri leke baith jaate ho 'don't fly, beti, don't fly'!"

[Yes, yes. And that's why the moment the soul thinks of flying a little, you all sit with umbrellas saying, 'Don't fly, dear daughter, don't fly'!]

Mumma walked in just then, holding Akshita's favourite iced rose drink and handed it to her ladoo silently - eyes narrowed at the men.

"I hope sabko realize ho gaya hai kitni nautanki ki gayi hai?"

[I hope everyone's realized how much unnecessary drama has been done?]

Akshita pouted. "Mumma, main toh bas trip ki baat kar rahi thi... aur mujhe aise treat kiya jaa raha tha jaise main exile pe jaa rahi hoon."

[Mumma, I was just talking about a trip... and they treated me like I was heading into exile.]

Her Badi Mumma followed with a fruit platter, tucking a strand of hair behind Akshita's ear as she fed her a slice of kiwi.

"Beta, tu toh sirf shopping aur school outing ki baat kar rahi thi... aur in logo ne toh emergency board meeting bula li thi."

[Dear, you were just talking about shopping and a school outing... and these people called an emergency board meeting.]

Her brothers looked at each other, then folded their hands dramatically.

"Sorry, Princess," the elder said. "Tu jaa trip pe. Bas daily check-in, fifteen selfies, location sharing, weather updates aur jo bhi tu kha rahi hai uski pics bhejna mandatory hai."

[You can go on the trip. But daily check-ins, fifteen selfies, location sharing, weather updates, and pictures of everything you eat - all that's mandatory.]

The younger one added, "Aur haan - koi tujhe zyada dekh le toh naam bata dena. Hum flight se pahunch jaayenge."

[And yes - if anyone looks at you for too long, just send us their name. We'll catch the next flight.]

Akshita grinned like a smug empress. "Noted. But kal shopping pe jaana hai. No hidden bodyguards, just bag carriers, one card swiper and unlimited opinions."

[Noted. But tomorrow I'm going shopping. No hidden bodyguards - just bag carriers, one card swiper, and unlimited opinions.]

Baba raised a hand like a defeated chairman. "Ladoo, apke liye toh bank bhi weekend pe kholwa denge."

[Ladoo, we'd even open the bank on a weekend for you.]

"Aur mall bhi private karwa lenge," Bade Baba said with mock surrender.

[And we'll even rent out the mall,]

Dadu clapped once. "Toh phir kal ka plan final. Mission: Princess Shopping pe jaa rahi wo hi doston ke sath. Aur agar koi roke... toh uska bonus cancel!"

[Then tomorrow's plan is final. Mission: Princess is going shopping with her friends. And if anyone tries to stop her... their bonus is cancelled!]

Everyone laughed.

And in that moment - under chandeliers worth crores, in a palace that echoed with laughter and mango slices - Akshita Rasinghanya, their most precious jewel, sat sipping her rose drink with the smile of a girl who knew:

She wasn't just loved.
She was protected, celebrated, cherished...
She was, and always would be-

Their Princess.

ᴛ ᴏ ʙ ᴇ ᴄ ᴏ ɴ ᴛ ɪ ɴ ᴜ ᴇ ᴅ

So how's the chapter, seriously I have written all the translation from meta ai. And it was kinda frustrating for me. If anyone knew better ideas drop it, because I'm fed up.

Did the chapter made you laugh, or any other emotions.

And yes, I'm planning to rewrite the initial chapters, i dont know why. But i feel like they needed to be treated asap.

So here is your crazy author shutting down because she has 100° fever. And I'm not able to look at the precious screen of my phone.

Jinda rahungi to update karugi...

Miss me.

Luv you all❤️