Target- 135 iss baar target pura nahi kiya to update nahi dungi 😝
Dhimahi’s POV –
Days are passing in a strange haze. Things between us have become… better, at least on the surface. Trayambak now talks to me, initiates conversations, even smiles sometimes. But he still seems busy—always on calls, coming home late at night. Still, that’s more than before.
Mom is still staying with us. I don’t really mind… but her words linger in my head like an echo in an empty room. “If you don’t make it work, you’ll lose him.” Maybe I shouldn’t feel insecure—but I do. Her words weren’t cruel, just brutally true.
Today was different. Trayambak stayed home. It’s Sunday—my off day—and for once, I thought we’d get to spend some time together. I was happy. I’d made breakfast, trying not to show how excited I was. But just when we were about to eat, I noticed Mom was dressed. Not casually, but dressed dressed. I didn’t comment. They’re rich, maybe that’s just how they are. Maybe she felt like dressing up. Still… something felt off.
We finished eating, and then she said, "Beta chalo, chalte hai." ["Son, come on, let’s go."]
My brows furrowed. Trayambak simply nodded, no questions, no explanations. It felt like a conversation I wasn’t supposed to hear. Like a plan I was never a part of.
It’s not that I mind him spending time with his mother. I still love her—despite her words. I know she meant well. Her advice made me act, helped us avoid a deeper rift. I’m grateful… but this? This silence, this exclusion, it gnawed at me.
They were about to leave. I couldn’t hold back any longer and asked, "Aap log kaha jaa rahe hai?" ["Where are you two going?"]
They looked at each other—a glance heavy with something unspoken. Mom opened her mouth, but Trayambak quickly cut in, "Woh humare new hotel ka construction ho raha hai, remember? Tumhe pichle hafte le gaya tha dikhane. Wahi jaa raha hoon mom ko dikhane." ["The construction of our new hotel is going on, remember? I took you there last week. Just taking Mom to show her."]
"Oh, acha," ["Oh, okay,"] I replied quietly.
Just before leaving, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on my lips. My eyes widened in shock—his mother was standing right there! He didn’t care.
Thankfully, it was just a peck. I was already dying of embarrassment.
Mom gave a playful gasp and lightly hit his arm. "Badtameez," ["Shameless boy,"] she fake-scolded.
He just shrugged with a smirk, "Badtameezi ka kya hai, apni hi biwi se pyaar kar raha hoon." ["What’s shameless about loving my own wife?"]
Oh God. Can the earth please crack open so I can disappear?
They left… but something about it felt off. I don’t know why. Maybe I’m just overthinking.
The house was quiet. Sunday means a day off for me. No one was home, so I thought of cleaning up a bit. As I dusted my room, I found a loose sheet of paper tucked behind a drawer. I don’t know why, but I brought it to my nose.
It smelled… divine.
Something strange took over me—an intense craving to smell more. Books. The scent reminded me of old books. Bibliosmia. It felt like a forgotten longing. I was never into books, hated them actually—but now, it’s like I needed it.
I made my way to Trayambak’s library. He loved books—enough to build an entire room for them. A whole damn sanctuary of pages and bindings. I stepped in and was instantly hit by the aroma—like nostalgia, like old secrets. I started sniffing around like a dog reunited with its owner.
YOU ARE READING
The Oculesics- Ek Kahaani Junoon Ki
Fantasy"Kapde utar," he said coldly. ["Strip"] Dhimahi's hands shook as she reached for her dupatta. There was no point resisting. She knew it. But she was too slow. Trayambak stormed towards her, ripped her kurti, and forced her down to her knees. "Muh kh...
