𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

VIDHI POV

📍 Ajmer, Rajasthan.

In Ajmer stood the Khandelwal haveli, built from old stones that had darkened with age and shaded by surrounding trees.

While most houses were filled with love, laughter, and warmth, the Khandelwal haveli had none of those things. Its atmosphere was always heavy with hatred: raised voices, coldness, and constant tension.

The family did not behave like other families. They never sat together; instead, they watched Manoj Khandelwal arrive late at night with different girls or women. He had no good reputation anywhere in Rajasthan, yet his illegal business continued with the support of the Thakurs.

To the world, Manoj Khandelwal had only two sons: the elder, Prateek, and a younger boy born shortly before his wife's death. No one knew the truth-that Manoj also had a daughter, Vidhi Khandelwal.

At the back of the haveli a lone figure danced in the courtyard as birds chirped in the trees above. It was Vidhi, whose life had been spent within those four walls, a life filled with pain and suffering.

Vidhi had never been allowed to dream-not because she lacked desire, but because she was forbidden. Unlike other children, she never attended school publicly; Manoj insisted the world believe she had died with her mother, Vanshika.

Only with the help of her eldest brother, Prateek, was she able to complete her education privately-and she still managed to top her class. Prateek was the sole reason she had survived this long.

If he wasn't present, Manoj could kill Vidhi at time which Vidhi came into his the World.

But still she was not treated as Manoj's daughter but as his punching bag. Any small mistake brought brutal beatings from him. Only Prateek could save her, tending to her bruises and shielding her when he could.

Her relationship with her other brother, Virendra, was distant and strained. He lived mostly in Jodhpur at the home of Manoj's sister, so the warm brother-sister bond Vidhi might have hoped for never truly formed.

Her mint-green, floor-length Anarkali twirled as she spun, the dance the only thing that healed her; whenever she felt low, she danced.

As she continued to whirl, the bun at the nape of her neck came undone and her long, wavy hair streamed out around her. Her ghungroos jingled with every step, then suddenly one snagged and broke.

A ghungroo pierced her foot. A sharp wince escaped her lips as she lost her balance and fell to the ground, eyes clenched shut, biting her lip against the pain.

"Mumma."

("Mother.)

A voice made her flinch. She turned to see Prateek standing there; he rushed to her side.

"Kuch nahi, voh... main gir gayi thi."

(It's nothing, I... I fell.)

Prateek sighed. "Aise kaise dance kar rahi thi? Dekh kar karna tha. Ab uth."

(How were you dancing like that? You should have been more careful. Now get up.)

He extended his hand.

Before Vidhi could take it, a voice came from the living room. Prateek froze.

"T..tu jaldi se room mein ja, main thodi der mein wapas aata hoon."

(Y..you go to your room quickly; I'll come back in a little while.)

Prateek stammered and hurried away, leaving Vidhi confused.

Vidhi frowned toward the living room and muttered to herself, "Bhai ko achanak se kya ho gaya? Aur yeh aawazein kaise aa rahi hain? Papa ki aawaaz toh nahi hai yeh."

(What happened to brother all of a sudden? And where are these voices coming from? That's not father's voice.)

She rose slowly and made her way toward the living room, each step leaving small bloody prints on the floor as her foot continued to bleed.

Her steps halted when she saw several guards outside, dressed in black. She crept to the window and peered into the living room.

"The day my son and I get proof against your son and you for what your son did to my daughter, I swear, Manoj, tujhe aur tere bete ko yahi se ghaseet kar lekar jauga. This is Abhiraj Meghna Singh Rathore's promise."

(The day my son and I get proof against your son and you for what your son did to my daughter, I swear, Manoj, I will drag you and your son out of here. This is Abhiraj Meghna Singh Rathore's vow."

)

Vidhi flinched at the voice. From behind, she could see the person glaring straight into Manoj's eyes; Manoj stood silent. It was the first time Vidhi had ever seen him like that.

Who is this person? Vidhi wondered.

Before she could see his face, a hand gripped Vidhi's forearm and dragged her into the kitchen. Vidhi's breath hitched as she turned to look.

"Sanyukta kaki."

(Aunt Sanyukta.)

Vidhi murmured, to the caretaker Sanyukta who had always been a mother figure to her.

"Aapne toh humein dara diya."

(You scared me.)

Vidhi said, placing a hand over her heart.

"Darane wale kaam kyu karti ho? Wahan kyun khadi thi? Maalik dekh lete toh pata hai na kya hota." Sanyukta scolded her softly.

(Why do you do things that frighten yourself? Why were you standing there? If the master had seen you, you know what would have happened.)

Meanwhile, Abhiraj and his men stepped out from the room but stopped when they noticed the bloody footprints.

Abhiraj's face tightened as memories flashed through his mind. He shook his head, stepped back, and walked out of the mansion.

"VIDHIIIIIIIIIII!" The voice echoed across the haveli - Manoj Khandelwal's voice. Vidhi, who stood with Sanyukta, flinched.

"P..papa ne humara naam kyun liya? Ab toh maine kuch bhi nahi kiya."

(W..why did Papa call my name? I haven't done anything now.)

Vidhi muttered, her voice trembling with fear.

Her breaths began to come unevenly as Manoj's voice continued.

"Shant, beta, ghabra mat. Main hoon na. Prateek bhi aa gaya hai. Ab toh maalik ko koi kaam hoga." Sanyukta tried to calm her.

(Calm down, child. Don't panic. I'm here. Prateek has come too. The master must have some work now.)

"Vidhi, behri ho gayi hai kya? Meri chai lekar aa." Manoj's voice came again.

("Vidhi, have you gone deaf? Bring me my tea.")

"Chai? Chai toh main banana hi bhool gayi." she muttered.

("Tea? I forgot to make the tea.")

"Tu bhuli hai, main nahi. Ye le ja dekar aa." Sanyukta said, handing Vidhi a cup of tea.

("You forgot, not me. Take this and go give it to him.")

"M..mai? Kaki, aap de aao na?" Vidhi muttered.

("M..me? Auntie, could you bring it instead?")

"Vidhi, maalik ne tujhe bulaya hai, mereko nahi. Main gayi toh woh faltu mein gussa honge tere par. Tu ja." Sanyukta urged.

("Vidhi, the master has called you, not me. If I go, he'll only get needlessly angry with you. You go.") Vidhi took a deep breath and walked toward the living room, carrying the tea.

"Itna dheere-dheere kyu aarhi hai? Langdi hogyi hai? Jaldi aa." Manoj raised his voice as he looked at Vidhi with disappointment; she kept her face blank, used to his scornful stare.

("Why are you walking so slowly? Are you limping? Hurry up.")

With shaking hands, Vidhi handed the cup to Manoj. Before she could step back, Manoj hurled the cup to the floor. It shattered into pieces. Vidhi staggered backward.

Manoj's gaze locked onto Vidhi's frightened eyes, rage and hatred burning in them. Then - THUD.

He slapped her hard across the left cheek. Her head snapped to the side, hair falling across her face. Pain erupted across her skin; tears welled in her eyes.

"Ye chai itni thandi kyu hai? Kuch kaam theek se kar sakti hai ya nahi? Tu bas nachaniyon ki tarah jaisi teri maa thi - uski tarah nachna aata hai." Manoj yelled

("Why is this tea so cold? Can you do any task properly or not? You're nothing but a dancer like your mother - she only knew how to dance.")

"Teri maa khud toh mar gayi aur tujh jaisi shraap ko mere gale mein bandh gayi. Mar kyun nahi gayi tu apni maa ke saath?" he spat venomously.

("Your mother is dead, and a curse like you clung to my neck. Why didn't you die with your mother?")

Vidhi stared at him as these words tore through her.

Only these thoughts ran through her mind: How can a father say this to his own child? To his dead wife?

"Ye kaise dekh rahi hai mujhe, tu? Haan." Manoj said, pulling Vidhi by her hair. A wince escaped her lips..

("How are you looking at me like this? Huh?")

He gripped her hair tighter.

Tears streamed down her face as her head fell backward under his hold. Then his free hand wrapped around her throat; his nails dug into her skin.

"Papa, p..please, I can't bre..athe." she gasped as Manoj applied pressure.

("Papa, p..please, I can't breathe.")

"Jabse hamari zindagi mein aayi hai, tabse sabki zindagi kharab kar di hai tune. Pehle apni maa ko khaa gayi aur ab hume bhi marne mein lagi hai. Tujhe teri maa ke paas hi bhej deta hoon."

Manoj spat, as Vidhi's body started to give up and tears trailed down.

("Since you came into our life, you've ruined everyone's life. First you destroyed your mother, and now you're trying to kill us too. I'll send you to your mother.")

Vidhi felt death closing in.

Before she could lose herself, Prateek burst into the room as Sanyukta had called him.

"PAPAAAAAAAAAA!" Prateek screamed, shoving Manoj away from Vidhi and lifting her tiny frame into his arms. She choked and gasped for air.

"Vidhi, bachche, saans le. Dekh, tera bhai hai. Main hoon yahan. Saans le, relax your nerves." Prateek said, rubbing her back. Vidhi said nothing; she fled from his arms back to her room, coughing.

Sanyukta ran after her while Prateek faced Manoj, fury in his eyes.

"Papa, mujhe bohot acche se pata hai aap kya karna chah rahe ho. Lekin main aapko yaad dila doon - main woh Prateek nahi hoon jo maa ke samay chup raha tha. Main maa ke samay chup raha tha, par Vidhi ko itni si bhi chot di na toh mere se bura koi nahi hoga. Jab tak main zinda hoon, use main kuch nahi hone dunga."

Prateek said in a final, hard tone, then went to Vidhi's room.

("Papa, I know very well what you intend to do. But let me remind you - I'm not the Prateek who kept quiet when Mother was alive. I stayed silent then, but if anyone even scratches Vidhi, there will be none worse than me. As long as I'm alive, I will not let anything happen to her.")

Vidhi bolted her door and slid down against it the moment the click echoed in the room. The strength she had been clinging to finally gave way.

Her knees folded, and she dropped onto the cold marble floor.

Trembling, she crawled forward until her hands found the small table beside her bed - the only place she ever found comfort. The only person who had never judged her.

Her mother's photograph.

Vanshika Khandelwal.

Vidhi's fingers shook as she drew the frame into her chest. Looking at the picture felt like staring at her own reflection: the same eyes, the same nose, the same smile.

She was Vanshika's exact copy - perhaps not only in looks, perhaps in fate as well. The thought forced a broken, humorless laugh from her that quickly dissolved into sobs.

Tears blurred the glass as she pressed her forehead to the frame. "M-Mumma..." she cried, voice splitting.

"He tried t-to kill me again..." The words barely left her before a fresh sob wracked her.

Her grip tightened as if the photograph alone might hold her together. "W-Why did you give birth to me, Maa?" she whispered, the question torn and pleading.

"Why didn't you take me with you when you left?"

Silence swallowed the room except for her gasps and quiet keening. She curled inward, clutching the frame like a lifeline.

"Maa... I can't do this anymore," she breathed. Her shoulders heaved. "I don't want to live here. I don't want to stay among these people."

New tears fell. "He will kill me one day, Mumma..." The fear she'd carried every day spilled out at last.

"He will actually kill me."

Images returned unbidden: Manoj's hand at her throat, the crushing pressure, air squeezed away, darkness creeping at the edges of her vision.

For a moment she had been sure she would not survive. Her fingers moved to her neck; the skin still stung from where his nails had dug in. "Mumma..." she whispered, helpless.

"Why am I so unlucky?" she asked the photograph, eyes wet and unfocused.

"Am I really a curse?" Years of insults, slaps, and hateful words had planted the doubt deep inside her.

"Because of me... you aren't here? Because of me... you died?" Her voice waned to a breath.

"But what did I do, Maa? What was my mistake?"

The questions tumbled out, endless and raw:

"Why am I being punished for simply being born? Do I have to spend my entire life like this? Will every day be the same? Will I always be scared? Will I always have to hide? Will I always be hated?"

She shook her head as if denial might change fate.

"No..." A ragged sob tore through her. "No... no... no..." She curled tighter around the photograph.

"No one loves me here, Maa," she confessed into the glass before she could stop herself.

"Not Papa. Not this family. Not this world." Her tears soaked the front of her dress. "No one cares whether I live or die."

A hollow laugh escaped her. "If I disappear tomorrow, nobody would even notice because for the world I was already dead "She covered her mouth as another sob escaped.

"Then why am I here, Maa? What's the reason for my existence?" She stared at the smiling face that had once warmed her world.

For years she had only survived, not lived: waking each morning to count how long she could continue, sleeping each night praying for relief that never came.

"I'm dying here," she whispered, voice threadbare. "My chest hurts. I can't breathe in this house. It feels like these walls are swallowing me alive." She hugged the frame until her knuckles whitened.

"I have no reason left to live, Mumma," she said, the words breaking like glass. "I have no dreams. No future. No happiness. Nothing."

The room echoed with her cries. For the first time in years, she was not trying to be strong. She was not hiding her pain or forcing a smile.

She was simply a broken daughter weeping before her mother's photograph: a daughter who had spent her whole life searching for love and never found it.

As exhaustion finally crept over her, her sobs slowed. She pressed her face to the cool glass and mumbled, half-asleep, "dum ghut raha hai, Mumma mera." Then sleep, merciful and deep, took her.

Time Skip

Night had settled over the Khandelwal haveli. In her room, Vidhi sat on the bed, eyes swollen and heavy from crying. She held a small tin of cream and was carefully rubbing ointment over the bruises on her neck.

A hand reached across and gently took the tin from her. Prateek had entered quietly and sat beside her.

No words were exchanged at first; as always, he began to treat her wounds. This time, Vidhi flinched when he touched her.

"Dar kyun rahi ho? Pehli baar marham nahi laga raha hoon."

("Why are you scared? It's not like I'm hurting you for the first time.") Prateek muttered.

Vidhi looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. When he finished applying the cream, he wiped her face with the soft edge of a handkerchief.

"Ro kyun rahi ho? Main zinda hoon na-main mara nahi hoon."

("Why are you crying? I'm alive; I'm not dead.")

Prateek said, attempting a small, comforting smile. Vidhi responded with a sharp glare.

"Aap hamesha zinda marne ki kyun baat karte ho?"

("Why do you always talk about living and dying?") Vidhi asked.

"Kyuu-ek na ek din toh mujhe bhi jaana hi hai." Prateek murmured with a strange, wry smile.

("Because-one day I too will have to go.")

"Aapke jaane ke baad phir toh mera jeena bhi mushkil ho jayega. Aapki absence... toh mujhe bhi maar denge." Vidhi whispered.

"But maybe that's better - then I could meet Mumma."

("After you leave, living will be harder for me. With you gone, they'd kill me too. But maybe it would be better - then I could be with Mother.")

Prateek tapped her lightly on the head and pushed a stack of documents toward her.

"Chal pagal, kuch bhi bolti hai." He smiled and then grew serious.

"He won't do anything to you. If he thinks of hurting you when I'm not here, I'll make sure you go into the right hands - to the right home, not to a place like ours." He sounded determined. Vidhi hugged him; he hugged her back just as tightly.

"Bhai... am I really a curse? Did Mumma die because of me? Is that why Papa doesn't love me? Did he ever love Mumma?" Vidhi asked, voice trembling.

At the last question, Prateek froze. The memory stabbed him - the beatings, the way Manoj had controlled and hurt their mother. Flashbacks of childhood violence swept through him..

"He used to love her," Prateek said slowly,

"but not the way you think.Not now. But he does love you in his own twisted way. Don't doubt yourself." His voice softened.

Vidhi pulled back slightly, unsure.

She touched the bruise on her neck. "Did his love look like this on Maa too?" she whispered, pointing to the dark marks.

"Yes." Prateek answered quietly.

"But he loves you too in that same broken way." He handed her a glossy prospectus. The front read: Pink City International University (PCIU), Jaipur.

"Bhāī?" Vidhi asked, surprised, eyes fixed on the prospectus.

Prateek smiled and nodded. "He himself gave me this to give to you. He allowed you to study, Vidhi."

"But... Jaipur?" Vidhi's surprise deepened.

Prateek frowned, puzzled.

"I'm surprised too - why Jaipur and not Ajmer?" He thought aloud, a question in his tone. Vidhi watched him, searching his face..

"Are you not happy?" she asked, her earlier surprise giving way to a tentative hope.

"Are you happy? Do you want to study in Jaipur?" Prateek asked in return.

Vidhi glanced at the prospectus, then at her mother's photograph on the table, and finally at Prateek. She nodded.

"If you're happy, who am I to stop you? I'll speak with Nani - she'll be glad to see you after so long." Prateek ruffled her hair. Vidhi's face lit with a shy, fragile smile.

For the first time in a long while she felt a flicker of excitement. She would be stepping out of the cage she had lived in for years.

She was also nervous - she sensed that something significant awaited her in Jaipur.