Vivaan Chaturvedi had always been a man of few words, choosing instead to let his art speak for him. His world revolved around colors, strokes, and emotions that spilled onto canvas - a world where he was in control, where he could escape the harsh realities of life
Yet, even in the sanctuary of his studio, the memories of his family’s loss often lingered like a shadow. The vibrant hues on his palette couldn’t erase the grayscale void left behind after the accident that claimed his parents and younger brother. Now, his life was defined by the responsibilities he shouldered for his sister Meera and his grandmother Nirmala, the two women who were his anchor in an otherwise turbulent sea of grief.
Vivaan’s career as an artist had gained traction in recent years. What had started as a coping mechanism had turned into a thriving profession. His paintings, often described as hauntingly beautiful, were displayed in galleries and sought after by collectors. The financial stability his art provided allowed him to support Meera’s education and ensure Nirmala received the care she deserved.
Despite his success, Vivaan’s personal life remained stagnant. He had attended several arranged marriage proposals over the years, each one ending in rejection. Some families deemed him "too introverted," while others were put off by his career choice. The stigma of being an artist which is considered an uncertain and unconventional profession by many - followed him like a stubborn shadow.
One evening, as Vivaan worked on a commissioned piece, Meera walked into his studio, a phone in her hand and a look of determination on her face.
"Vivaan Bhaiya," she began, her voice firm yet gentle, "Dadi and I have been talking. You can’t keep hiding behind these walls forever. It’s time you consider meeting someone again."
Vivaan sighed, setting down his brush. "Meera, we’ve been through this before. You know how these meetings end. Why put ourselves through it again?"
Meera crossed her arms, her gaze unrelenting. "You’ve built a life around your art, Bhaiya, but it’s time to step outside those lines. Maybe there’s a bigger canvas waiting for you."
Vivaan looked at her, his expression softening at her concern. "Every time I meet someone, I feel like they’re searching for something I can’t give, a version of me that doesn’t exist anymore."
"You don’t know that," Meera said quietly. "And you won’t know until you try again. Maybe this time, it’ll be different."
Her words struck a chord in Vivaan. Meera had always been his biggest supporter, but tonight, she seemed more than just worried,she seemed determined.
"Fine," he relented. "But I’m not promising anything."
Meera’s face lit up with a smile. "That’s all I’m asking for, Bhaiya. Just keep an open mind."
A week later, Vivaan found himself sitting in a café, meeting yet another potential match. The woman across from him was polite and articulate, but as the conversation progressed, Vivaan realized there was no connection. It wasn’t her fault,he simply couldn’t bring himself to engage beyond surface-level pleasantries.
As they parted ways, Vivaan couldn’t shake the feeling of inadequacy. Was it him? Was he incapable of forming a bond with someone new?
Later that evening, Vivaan confided in Nirmala, who listened patiently as she always did.
"Vivaan," she said, her voice laced with wisdom, "you’re not broken, and there’s nothing wrong with you. Sometimes, the heart takes time to heal. But you mustn’t close yourself off to the possibility of love. Life has a way of surprising us when we least expect it."
"Love isn’t about finding someone who fits a mold, Vivaan. It’s about finding someone who sees the cracks and chooses to stay anyway."
Her words stayed with him, echoing in his mind as he worked late into the night. He didn’t know if he was ready to open himself up to the idea of marriage, but for the sake of his family, he decided to give it one last chance.
Unbeknownst to him, fate had already set its wheels in motion. The next name on Meera’s list was Roohi Ahuja, a woman whose life was as far removed from his as the sky was from the sea.
And yet, something told Vivaan that this meeting would be different.
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