Sarpanch's Biwi • 18+ [Completed✓]

Bonus chapter ~ 1 : Thanking her in the best way

Ye mahal-munare, suraj-taare
Humse pare le jaaiye..
Main teri, tu mera
Aur nahi kuch chahiye..

Aaiye ji, aaiye, mere paas itna aaiye,
Nazrein milake mere haath choom jaaiye,

✿✿✿✿✿

ABHIGYAN

I've always known that Priya was a wonderful woman.

Wonderful sounds still less for her. She is fantastic. Perfect. Beautiful. Strong. And all mine.

But she is even more wonderful mother than a wife.

There's one thing that I always think.

WHY DO WE MEN NOT APPRECIATE WOMAN FOR EVERYTHING THEY DO? Without complaining!

It’s been six months since Rajveer entered our world, and not a day passes without me marveling at how Priya has transformed.

Still, I've never. Never said this out loud. And I feel guilty. Really.

I mean I praise her, in simple words sometimes, ‘You look beautiful,’ ‘You’re wonderful,’ but never more.

The night sky stretched over our small village, stars twinkling above, and the soft glow of the lantern in our room casted a gentle light on her as she rocked Rajveer to sleep.

I sat quietly in the corner, just watching her.

There’s something almost sacred in the way she holds him, her arms so steady, her face so peaceful. She hums a quiet lullaby, one that her mother used to sing, and I can see how Rajveer, our son, relaxes in her arms, his tiny hand gripping her saree.

It’s moments like these when I truly understand the depth of what motherhood has done for her, and for us.

Priya has always been strong, but now there’s a new kind of strength within her—a quiet resilience that shines through her every movement. She wakes before everyone in the morning, preparing for the day while keeping a watchful eye on our little boy.

The house is alive with her presence, and everything feels in perfect harmony when she is around. I don’t know how she does it, balancing so much without ever letting it show that she might be tired or overwhelmed.

I remember the first few nights after Rajveer was born, how anxious I was. I’d toss and turn, worried he might cry or get sick in the middle of the night.

But Priya... she was a natural.

She would hold him close, soothing him with a patience I didn’t know was possible. She never rushed, never grew frustrated.

Even when she was exhausted from endless nights of feeding and rocking him back to sleep, she found the strength to smile, to hum that same gentle tune that calmed him down every time.

I’ve come to believe that Rajveer knows the sound of her heartbeat, that her very breath is the lullaby that keeps him at peace.

“Abhigyan, he’s finally asleep,”

She whispers, her eyes glancing over to me with that familiar warmth.