This book is under major editing. Read the refined version, called She stole my Knight.
Roshni, her name meant light. Yet she was considered as darkness. Except for one person. What will happen to Roshni, when the only person who loves her uncondit...
🎵 Raaste mein jo milo toh Haath milaane ruk jaana Saath mein koi ho tumhare Door se hi tum muskaana 🎵
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"Dad," tears rushed down cheeks, with a thumb he wiped a cheek.
He shook his head, "hoon na main kya, ab rone ki kya zaroorat hai?"
("Now since, I am here, you do not need to cry.")
"How are you dad?"
His lips formed into a smile, "my sweetheart, I am good. Are you okay?"
"I am," he cupped my cheeks and planted a kiss on my head. My smile dropped, from the corner of my eyes, I saw his wife. The woman, who left no stone unturned to hurt me. She flashed a grimace, my eyes narrowed. As if dad read my emotions, he looked at the sight of my focus.
Onyx eyes turned guilty, he blinked furiously, "dad, please don't think about it," my head bobbled negativity.
It was a usual day, warm and peaceful. I never knew it turn cold and ugly soon. It had hardly been a week since my fifth birthday. My cousins and I were engaged in some doll game, which made a lot of sense to our tiny selves.
"Oh no mahika! You spilled all the tea," Ahana scolded her cousin when she dropped the water, which we used as tea for our doll tea party.
"Agh I'm sorry. Wait I will get more water," dusting of her green pants, Mahika stood up and went outside our playroom.
It were a couple of minutes since she had left, soon we could hear her scream in hallways. Panting, she entered, "new aunt has come," she jumped with happiness and excitement.
"What are you saying Mahika?" Darpana asked her.
I was sitting there, all quiet, in confusion.
New aunt?
My mother?
I nodded, it was my new mother, she was talking about.
Abruptly, I stood up, running and tripping down the stairs. My happiness knew no limits. I was glad, now I wouldn't be pitied and sympathised as, "bin maa ki baachi hai," or "maa nahi hai na ladki ki," those words which were uttered out of sympathy, little did the people knew, these words made me realise how unlucky I was.
("The child has no mother." "The child's mother has died.")
Now that was going to change. I would get mother.
Mother. A person whose love is most precious and unconditional, a person who sacrifices their needs for their little human, a person who nurtures their child, a person teaches to their offspring even if they're nescient, a person who will accept me without any stipulations.
"No! I can't accept her as my Daughter-in-law. Nobody gets married twice in our lineage. On top of that she is a divorcee and has a kid. I can't accept her," Loud voice of my grandfather, froze me on spot, outside the door of the room they were talking in.
