The room felt quieter than usual. I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of the day settle in my bones. Household chores had piled up, and even though it wasn’t anything new, today, it seemed harder to manage. I had always been the one to take charge, to handle everything on my own. But lately, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all becoming too much.
Raghav ji’s footsteps caught my attention. I looked up to see him standing by the small desk, his gaze lifting to meet mine. He must have noticed the weariness in my eyes.
“Aarti Jaan, kya ho raha hai? Tum thodi thodi thak gayi ho, lagta hai,” he asked, his voice gentle, his concern evident.
(Aarti Jaan, what’s going on? You seem a little tired.)
I smiled weakly. “Bas, thoda kaam badh gaya hai. Sab kuch ek saath karna thoda mushkil ho raha hai,” I replied, my voice quieter than I intended.
(Just that the work has piled up. It’s getting a little difficult to manage everything at once.)
I didn’t want him to worry, but the exhaustion had made it difficult to hide.
Without a word, Raghav ji walked towards me. Before I could stop him, he started picking up the clothes I had left on the chair. I blinked, surprised at his sudden involvement. He wasn’t the kind of person to volunteer for chores, and certainly not in our shared space.
I was about to protest, to tell him not to bother, but his calm voice interrupted my thoughts. “Mujhe tumhari madad karne mein koi dikkat nahi hai. Tumhare saath hoon toh sab kuch asaan lagta hai,” he said, folding the clothes with a practiced hand, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
(I don’t mind helping you. Everything feels easier when I’m with you.)
I stood there, unable to stop watching him. It wasn’t just the task itself; it was the quiet, thoughtful gesture. He wasn’t just helping me - he was lightening the load that I hadn’t even realized was too heavy to carry alone.
I felt my heart swell with something I couldn’t quite put into words. “I didn’t expect this from you, Raghav ji,” I said softly, almost to myself.
He paused, glancing over at me with that same calm smile of his, “tumhare liye toh kuch bhi kar sakta hoon,” he said.
(For you, I can do anything.)
The words were simple, yet they held so much meaning. It was his way of showing me that he wasn’t just physically present but emotionally invested in everything we shared. It was more than I had ever expected.
As he finished folding the last of the clothes and placed them in the drawer, I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming wave of appreciation. “Shukriya, Raghav ji. Tumne jo kiya, woh mere liye kaafi hai,” I said quietly.
(Thank you, Raghav ji. What you’ve done means a lot to me.)
Raghav ji turned to me, his eyes filled with a warmth I hadn’t seen in a while. “Main hamesha tumhare saath hoon, Jaan. Tumhein kabhi yeh mehsoos nahi hona chahiye ki tum akeli ho,” he said softly.
(I’m always here with you, Jaan. You should never feel like you’re alone.)
A lump formed in my throat as I heard his words. There was something incredibly comforting about the simplicity of them, and I felt the tightness in my chest ease just a little. It was as if, for the first time in a long while, I could let go of my worries and trust someone else to share the load.
His presence had always been a calming force, but today, in this small, quiet moment, I felt it more than ever. He wasn’t just my husband; he was my partner, my equal in every way.
I stepped closer to him, my voice barely a whisper. “Mujhe kabhi nahi laga tha ki koi mujhse yeh sab keh sakta hai... Aapke saath, sab kuch thoda asaan lagta hai,” I said, my words thick with emotion.
(I never thought anyone could say something like this to me... With you, everything feels a little easier,Raghav ji)
Raghav ji’s smile softened, and he took a step toward me. Without saying a word, he pulled me into his arms, holding me close. His warmth surrounded me, and for a moment, everything else faded away.
“Aur tum meri duniya ho, Jaan. Tumhare saath, zindagi ki har mushkil ka samna karna asaan hai,” he whispered against my hair. (And you’re my world, Aarti. With you, facing every difficulty in life becomes easier.)
I closed my eyes, my heart swelling in my chest. It wasn’t just about the help with chores, or his quiet words - it was the love that I could feel radiating from him. He was here, not just in the physical sense, but in every way that truly mattered. He was present, and that presence, that connection, was everything I needed.
I could feel my breath steadying as I relaxed into his embrace. We stood like that for a while, simply holding each other, the world outside forgotten. There was something about the stillness of the moment that made everything feel right. In his arms, I felt like I had found my place, my peace.
I pulled away gently, my hands tracing the lines of his shirt as I took a deep breath. A familiar sense of calm washed over me. The tension in my shoulders seemed to melt away. I glanced at my veena resting nearby, its presence a reminder of the music I had always turned to in times of reflection.
Without thinking too much, I picked it up and settled back down on the bed. I began to play softly, the first notes filling the room, their melody a soothing balm to my soul. The music didn’t just fill the space around us - it filled my heart, grounding me in a way nothing else could.
I look around the room, feeling a sense of warmth not just from the music but from the changes Raghav ji has made, the support he's silently giving. There's the veena, hidden in the corner of the room, perfectly placed under a cloth where no one could find it. And it was my Raghav ji who made sure of that, just like he promised. No one will ever know I still play it. It's our little secret.
Raghav ji sat next to me, watching me with a soft smile, his gaze full of quiet admiration. I could feel the weight of his attention on me, but it didn’t feel like pressure - it felt like support.
The music swirled around us, a perfect harmony that echoed the understanding between us. In that moment, I realized that with Raghav ji, it wasn’t just about being there physically - it was about being there, in every sense of the word. His support, his love, and his presence made everything feel a little easier, a little lighter.
As the last note of my song faded into the air, I looked at Raghav ji, my heart full of gratitude. In the silence that followed, we both knew - this was just the beginning of something beautiful. And no matter what the future held, we would face it together, side by side.
I think about the little things he's been doing. It's not just about doing the household tasks. It's the way he's making sure my veena stays hidden from everyone, just like I asked. No one else in this house knows about it, and that's exactly how I want it.
He understands my hidden melody... and is giving me the time to understand my own feelings.
The room, once filled with the weight of my worries, now felt like a place of peace. With Raghav ji by my side, I knew I wasn’t alone, and that made all the difference.
Raghav pov:
As I sit beside her, I watch Aarti pick up her veena, her fingers moving gracefully over the strings. A soft melody fills the room, and I can’t help but smile to myself. I don’t want to interrupt her, not now, when she’s lost in her music. But there's something about the way her fingers move, how absorbed she is in the rhythm - it’s a side of her I’ve rarely seen.
Aarti, my wife, has always been strong. But tonight, as I listen to the melody that flows effortlessly from her, I realize how much strength she has within her. She’s always carried a quiet resilience, but now, it feels like she’s letting herself breathe.
I stand up quietly, deciding not to intrude on her moment. I like the silence between us. It feels sacred, like this is her space - her way of reclaiming herself.
Aarti’s music continues to echo through the room, and I find myself walking around, just appreciating the quiet strength that she’s showing tonight. She doesn’t need anyone to tell her she’s capable - she knows it herself.
The sound of the veena fades, and I stop for a moment, feeling the calm that follows. I’m not thinking about anything - no expectations, no pressures. For the first time in a long time, I’m not thinking about the weight of what’s expected of me. I’m not thinking about the future, about our responsibilities. I’m simply... here.
And there, beside me, is Aarti.
The moment she finishes playing, I notice the peace that settles around us. The room, once heavy with so many unsaid things, now feels lighter. There’s no judgment here, no demands. It’s just us, and I realize that I’ve missed this - just being with her, in the quiet moments where we don’t have to be anything for anyone but each other.
As she places the veena back in its case, I see her sigh in contentment. It’s a small thing, but it means so much to me. I’ve always known Aarti’s strength, but tonight, there’s something different. She seems at ease with herself.
Aarti whispers softly to herself, as though the music has allowed her to release the weight she’s been carrying.
"Aarti..." I start, my voice almost a murmur, not wanting to disturb the calm between us. "Agar tum thoda aur madad chahti ho, toh main hamesha tumhare saath hoon."
(“If you ever need more help, I’m always with you.”)
She turns to me, a faint smile playing on her lips. There’s something vulnerable in her gaze - something she doesn’t usually show. I feel a surge of protectiveness for her, wanting to ease whatever burden she’s carrying, even if I don’t fully understand it yet.
She hesitates, then speaks in a soft, almost uncertain voice.“Raghav ji... Tumne jo kuch bhi kiya hai, wo mere liye... yeh sab samajhna... shukriya.”
(Raghav ji... Everything you’ve done, all the understanding... thank you.)
Her words catch me off guard, and I sit down beside her, unsure of how to respond at first. I’ve never done anything extraordinary in my eyes. But seeing her like this, hearing her words, I realize how much she’s carrying on her own.
“Aarti,” I whisper, taking her hand in mine. “Main tumhe kabhi hurt nahi karna chahta. Agar tumhe kuch zarurat ho, toh main hamesha tumhare saath hoon.”
(Aarti, I never want to hurt you. If you need anything, I’m always here with you.)
I can feel her anxiety, but I don’t know how to reach the root of it. It’s like there’s something deep within her she’s afraid to share, a fear she’s holding on to. But I won’t let go. I’ll be there for her, whatever it takes.
She looks at me, her eyes searching mine, then asks softly, “Raghav ji... agar mujhe koi galti ho gayi ho, agar main... kuch poori tarah se nahi kar paayi... kya tum mujhe nahi chhodo ge? ”
(Raghav ji... If I’ve made a mistake, if I haven’t been able to do something... would you leave me?)
Her words pierce through me like an arrow. How could she think that? I could never leave her. Not now, not ever. I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her as I press my forehead to hers, my voice a quiet promise.
“Jaan, hum dono ek doosre ke saath hain. Tumhara saath dena mera farz hai... jo bhi ho.”
(Jaan, we are in this together. It’s my duty to stand by you... whatever happens.)
I feel the weight of her doubts lift, even if just a little. But I know she’s still unsure. There’s a hesitation in the air. I can feel it. But I’m not going anywhere. I never will.
I see her leaning forward, her lips just a breath away from mine. The kiss is hesitant at first, a question rather than an answer. But then she pulls away, her heart racing, and I see the uncertainty in her eyes. I know what she's feeling - it’s not just about the kiss. It’s everything we’ve been holding back, everything we’re still figuring out.
But I don’t let go. Her lips brush against mine again, this time more firmly. There’s no hesitation now. I kiss her back, gently, my hand cradling the back of her head, holding her close. And in that moment, I feel like we’re finally speaking the same language.
She whispers against my lips, shyly, her voice barely audible. “Kya... kya aap... mujhe samajh rahe ho?,Raghav ji”
(Are... are you understanding me, Raghav ji)
I nod, my lips still against hers, my heart full of nothing but her.“ Main tumhe samajh raha hoon, Aarti. Tumhari har baat, har jazbaat.”
(I understand you, Aarti. Every word, every feeling.)
With those words, I feel a sense of relief wash over me. Finally, we’re no longer just existing together. We’re truly connecting. And as I pull her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, I know that this is the start of something deeper.
In that moment, I realize that it’s not about fulfilling expectations, or living up to any ideal of perfection. It’s about us. It’s about the quiet moments, the understanding, the unspoken bond we share.
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