DESCRIPTION
This story exists because it had to.
It wasn’t borrowed, inspired, or stitched together from somewhere else.
It came from a place where thoughts don’t ask permission before turning dark.
The images used are not mine.
The words are.
And that difference matters.
If you’re here to enjoy, stay.
If you’re here to judge, read anyway.
But if you’re here to copy — stop right now.
Because imitation doesn’t make you a writer, it only exposes how empty your own pages are.
Praise is welcome.
Silence is fine.
Disrespect will be returned with interest.
Aur... aur asthetic par koi hasega nahi. I felt cute, so I made it.
Language flaws may appear.
I see them. I own them.
This is storytelling, not an exam hall.
So keep the red pen down darling.
Do not compare these characters with anyone you already know.
They don’t belong to films, books, or borrowed fantasies.
They stand alone — flawed, layered, and unapologetic, just like me and you.
This story is not gentle. (Like my heart)
The women here are not written to be liked. (Like me)
They are written to exist, to resist, and to outgrow expectations.
If you feel uncomfortable while reading,
good — that means it’s working :)
And if you’re still here till the end,
remember this:
nothing in this story was meant to please you. (Evil smirk)
It was meant to stay with you.
Aur haa character ko samjhne ki koshis mat karo, flow me chalo warna ulajh jayoge.
Hero ki buraai koro par heroine ki nhi.
— धन्यवाद, शुक्रिया.
Now read carefully.
