When the Wind Carried a Whisper of Love
The winds in Shivdara had changed since that moment.
The moment she fell.
The moment he caught her.
Vaanika didn’t see his face—just heard his voice and felt his hand. But Arin… he saw something.
Not her full face—just a glimpse beneath her fluttering dupatta, like moonlight through clouds. But in that split second, time had slowed, and something stirred inside him.
A spark.
Unexplainable. Unfamiliar. Yet hauntingly known.
Before he could make sense of it, Vaanika had stood up, her cheeks flushed, and rode away without a word, her anklets chiming like a forgotten melody fading into the distance.
At the edge of the village, near the banyan grove, an old man smiled.
Veer Baba, sitting on his meditation mat, opened his eyes slowly as if awakened by something only he could feel. The wind whispered secrets to him through the rustling leaves.
He picked up a crystal from his side and held it against the golden sunlight.
“Samay aa gaya hai,” he murmured to himself.
The time has come.
He closed his eyes, whispering an ancient mantra. The wind stirred stronger for a moment, and the flame in the small lamp beside him flickered—though there was no breeze nearby.
“Jo roshni thi, ab milne ko tyaar hai apne saathi se…
Jis pyar ko sadiyon se taal diya gaya tha, wo ab apna raasta khud banayega.”
(The light is ready to meet its destined one.
The love that was postponed by lifetimes… will now carve its own path.)
Back at the haveli, Arin couldn’t focus. He’d been in India for just three days, but something about this village, this girl, this moment—had unbalanced his carefully structured mind.
The girl had barely spoken, her face barely visible. And yet, her presence lingered like perfume in a closed room. His logical brain said forget it.
But his heart? It whispered, “She matters.”
He found himself sketching. Not his usual clean, symmetrical diagrams—but a girl. Eyes closed. Windswept hair. Bangles glowing under the sun.
Meanwhile, Vaanika lay awake under the open stars. Something inside her had shifted. She had touched many hands before—while helping, supporting, or praying.
But this… this touch had felt different.
Her heart had raced like a song on a drumbeat. She couldn’t explain it, but the air around her still felt alive… like it was holding a secret.
She sat up and looked at the night sky.
“Was that... just a coincidence?” she whispered.
Somewhere, in the banyan grove, Veer Baba smiled again.
The next day, their paths crossed again.
At the temple courtyard, she was lighting a diya when she felt a gaze.
She looked up—and there he was.
Arin.
He looked as surprised as she did. But calmer. More curious. He took a hesitant step forward.
“Hi…” he said, his tone gentle.
She lowered her eyes and gave a soft smile. “Namaste.”
“You disappeared fast last time.”
She looked at him playfully. “I thought it was safer to run away from strangers who drive too fast.”
He laughed. “Fair enough. I’m Arin, by the way.”
She paused… then answered softly, “Vaanika.”
The wind stirred again. The flame in the temple flickered. The peepal tree leaves danced though no storm had come.
And from behind a tree, unseen, Veer Baba whispered to the wind,
“Aur ab kahani shuru hoti hai…”
Now, the story begins.
Some souls don’t fall in love.
They remember it.
And the universe finds ways to bring them together… again and again.
To be continued...
Some stories don’t need to begin — they just continue from where destiny left them.
Did Vaanika feel that spark too? Or was it just Arin… remembering something more?
Tell me how you felt reading this chapter.
I’d love to hear your thoughts — what you liked, what you're curious about, and what you want to see next!
Stay with me, the story has just begun...
– The Author (Kridha)
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