"Kehte hain waqt ke saath har ghaav bhar jaata hai, par apno ko khone ka dard waqt ke saath aur gehra hota jaata hai."
>๐ฅ<
11:45 AM | JABALPUR, MADHYA PRADESH
The sound of the Narmada River filled the air as Nidhi stood at Bhedaghat, her hands resting on the cold metal railing. In front of her, the water rushed over the rocky edge and fell into the river below, its roar filling the entire area. Tourists were everywhere-some taking pictures, some waiting for the boat ride, and others buying small marble souvenirs from the shops nearby.
Nidhi barely noticed any of them.
She had come to Jabalpur to stay at her Dadi's house for a few days, but this time there was another reason for her visit. Her family had arranged a meeting with a man they were considering for her marriage, and she was supposed to meet him tomorrow.
She hadn't known what to feel about it. At twenty-seven, marriage wasn't something Nidhi had spent much time thinking about. She had been too busy taking care of her family and running the clothing shop. Somewhere along the way, marriage had become another decision that seemed to belong to everyone except her. For now, she didn't want to think about it.
She looked at the river again, and somehow, the sight of it brought back an old memory. Her father used to bring her here when she was younger. She remembered holding his hand as they walked around the marble rocks while he kept warning her not to go too close to the water.
"It looks beautiful from here, Nandu. But water like this doesn't forgive carelessness."
Back then, she would simply nod and promise to be careful. She never really understood why he repeated the same warning every time they came here.
Now she did. Her father had been gone for years, but sometimes his voice still came back to her at the strangest moments, especially when she found herself standing in places they had once visited together.
Nidhi looked down at the water and let out a quiet breath. Life had changed so much since those days. She had once been a girl with books in her hands and plans for college. She had imagined what she would study, where she would go, and what kind of life she would build for herself.
Then her father passed away. There was no time to think about what she wanted after that. There were bills to pay, her mother needed help, and her younger twin siblings were still in school. So Nidhi stopped talking about college and took over the small clothing shop.
She slowly learned everything she needed to keep it running-buying fabric, dealing with customers, checking accounts, and making sure there was enough money at the end of every month. Her own dreams simply became less important.
Sometimes, when she saw girls her age talking about college, careers, or planning their futures, she wondered what her life would have looked like if things had been different. Would she have finished college? Would she have had a career? Would she have been a completely different person?
She didn't know. Maybe every girl had a version of herself she had once imagined. Nidhi had simply stopped chasing hers.
She looked down at her hands. The tips of her fingers were rough from handling fabric and thread every day. Tomorrow, she would be sitting across from a stranger and trying to decide whether she could spend the rest of her life with him. The thought made her nervous.
Before she could think about it any further, a familiar voice called from behind her.
"Didi, let's go! Maa is calling us."
Nidhi turned around and saw Riya standing a few steps away, holding two ice creams and looking impatient. Nidhi smiled despite herself. "Coming."
She gave the river one last look before stepping away from the railing. "Let's go."
Riya immediately turned around and started walking back toward their mother, while Nidhi followed her.
Tomorrow, she would meet the man her family had chosen for her. She had no idea what he would be like, and she certainly didn't know that this arranged meeting would become the beginning of a life she had never planned for.
----
Nidhi stopped in front of one of the small marble shops before leaving Bhedaghat. The shelves were filled with small marble pieces, name plates, idols, and little souvenirs. She looked through them for a while before picking up a simple white marble piece.
"Uncle, isme Nidhi naam likh dijiye," she said politely, handing the marble piece to the shopkeeper.
(Uncle, please write the name Nidhi on this.)
The shopkeeper smiled and took out a small piece of paper. He handed it to her along with a pen.
"Isme apna naam likh do," he said.
(Write your name on this.)
Nidhi carefully wrote her name on the paper and handed it back to him. The shopkeeper looked at it and nodded before placing it safely beside the marble piece.
"Hum thodi der baad aake le jayenge," Nidhi said, taking out her money. "Abhi aadhe paise de deti hoon, baaki jab lene aayenge."
(We'll come and collect it later. I'll pay half now and the rest when we come to pick it up.)
The shopkeeper took the money and nodded.
"Theek hai beti."
(Okay, dear.)
Nidhi smiled and stepped away from the shop. Riya was waiting nearby with their mother and Rahul.
"Didi, ho gaya?" Rahul asked.
(Sister, is it done?)
"Haan, ho gaya," Nidhi replied.
(Yes, it's done)
"Chalo, ab ghar?" their mother asked.
(Come on, shall we go home now?)
Nidhi nodded, and the four of them started walking back toward their Dadi's house.
----------------
12:15 PM | JABALPUR, MADHYA PRADESH
Arnav sat on the marble steps, looking at the Narmada flowing quietly in front of him. The sound of the water had always been calming for him. Whenever his mind felt crowded with thoughts about the future or things he couldn't control, he came here.
He had been coming to this place for years. Looking at the water, he found himself thinking about how different his life had once been.
Arnav didn't remember his parents. He didn't know their names, where they were, or why they had left him behind. Most of his childhood was nothing more than scattered memories of streets, hunger, and cold nights. He remembered begging for food and sleeping wherever he could find a safe corner.
Sometimes, he washed utensils at a small roadside hotel in exchange for a meal. Other days, he simply wandered around looking for something to eat. He had never known what it felt like to have a proper place to sleep or someone waiting for him at the end of the day.
Then, when he was twelve, something changed.
One afternoon near Bhedaghat, a man noticed him sitting alone near the river. Arnav still remembered that day clearly. The man had approached him and asked a few questions-where were his parents, where did he live, and did he have anyone waiting for him?
Arnav hadn't known what to say.
When the man finally asked him his name, the boy had simply lowered his eyes.
"Mera koi naam nahi hai."
(I don't have a name.)
The man remained silent for a moment. Then his eyes moved toward the Narmada flowing beside them.
"ARNAV."
The boy looked up at him.
"Arnav?" he repeated quietly.
The man gave him a faint smile.
Arnav naam ka matlab samandar hota hai. Gehraa, vishaal, aur apne andar bahut kuch samete hue."
(Arnav means ocean. Deep, vast, and holding countless things within itself.)
He looked at the boy for a moment before continuing.
"Samandar kabhi kisi nadi se nahi poochta ki woh kahaan se aayi hai. Bas apne andar sama leta hai. Tum bhi apne beete hue kal se apni pehchaan mat banana. Jo ho gaya, woh tumhari poori kahaani nahi hai. Tumhari kahaani abhi baaki hai."
(The ocean never asks a river where it came from. It simply embraces it. Don't let your past decide who you are. What happened is not your whole story. Your story is still waiting to be written.)
The boy didn't understand every word, but something about the way the man said it made him feel different. For the first time, someone wasn't looking at him with pity.
Someone was looking at him as if he could become something. And that day, the boy who had believed he had nothing was given his first identity.
ARNAV.
The man then took him to an orphanage nearby. Arnav remembered sitting quietly while the man spoke to the people inside. He remembered being given food, clean clothes, and a proper place to sleep. Before leaving, the man had told him that he would come back to see him.
Arnav waited.
But the man never came.
He tried asking about him many times, but no one knew much. Arnav only remembered hearing one of the man's friends call him "Vishwakarma ji."
That was all he knew. He never learned his first name, and he never saw him again. But Arnav had never forgotten him.
He was the first person who had stopped long enough to see him-not as a street boy, not as someone to be ignored, but simply as a child who needed help.
The orphanage owner, Arvind Singh, eventually took responsibility for him. He made sure Arnav stayed in school, ate properly, and had everything he needed to study. When the time came to register Arnav's name officially, Arvind Singh gave him his own surname.
And that was how Arnav became Arnav Singh.
He didn't know where his original family name had gone. He didn't even know if he had ever had one. So Singh became the name he carried into adulthood. Arnav never forgot what Arvind Singh had done for him either.
He worked hard at school and eventually earned a scholarship. At eighteen, he earned another scholarship for higher studies and decided to build a career through education.
That was also when he left the orphanage and started living on his own. The years that followed were not easy, but Arnav had learned one thing early in life: he could depend only on himself. He studied, worked, saved, and kept moving forward until he built the life he had once thought was impossible.
Now, at thirty-four, he had a stable job, enough money to take care of himself, a place of his own, and the security he had once begged for.
But there was one thing he had never wanted.
Marriage.
He had never planned for it because he had never believed he had anything to give another person. He had spent most of his life learning how to survive, not how to share his life with someone else.
He didn't know how to be a husband. He didn't know how to belong to someone, or how to let someone belong to him.
Somewhere deep down, Arnav didn't even think he deserved that kind of life. He was too used to being alone.
So when his friends told him that they had found a girl and wanted him to meet her tomorrow, he hadn't argued. He had simply agreed. Not because he was excited about marriage, but because he had never been the kind of man to fight over things he didn't believe he deserved.
His eyes returned to the water.
A small part of his life had begun at this very place, all because one stranger had decided to stop and help a boy who had nowhere to go.
Arnav would never forget that.
For him, Bhedaghat was more than just a place he visited when he needed peace. It was where his life had changed.
He had no idea that, after all these years, the same place that had once changed his life was about to do it again.
-----
A few hours later, Arnav stood outside the same marble shop with Rohit and Kunal. He had come here with them after they insisted on stopping before heading back.
Kunal looked through the marble pieces displayed on the shelves and pointed at one of them.
"Bhai, ye wala lete hain Arnav aur hamari hone wali bhabhi ke liye."
(Brother, let's buy this one for Arnav and our future sister-in-law.)
Rohit shook his head.
"Bhai, abhi shaadi toh pakki hone de."
(Brother, at least let the marriage be confirmed first.)
Kunal nodded.
"Haan, ye bhi hai. Ek kaam karte hain. Ye wala khareed ke le jaate hain. Ek side Arnav ke naam likhwa dete hain aur doosri side khaali chhod dete hain. Shaadi pakki hone ke baad bhabhi ka naam likhwa denge. Mujhe ye wala bahut achha lag raha hai."
(Yeah, that's true. Let's do one thing. We'll buy this one and take it with us. We'll get Arnav's name written on one side and leave the other side blank. Once the marriage is confirmed, we'll get bhabhi's name written on it. I really like this one.)
Rohit looked at the marble piece again before nodding.
"Achha idea hai."
(Good idea.)
Kunal turned toward the shopkeeper.
"Uncle, ye wala chahiye."
(Uncle, we want this one.)
The shopkeeper took the marble piece from the shelf and reached for a small piece of paper. He handed it to Kunal with a pen.
"Beta, isme apne dost ka naam likh do."
(Son, write your friend's name on this.)
Kunal was about to take the paper when Rohit reached for the pen instead.
"Main likh deta hoon."
(I'll write it.)
He turned the paper over and wrote Arnav on the back.
Neither Rohit nor Kunal noticed the name already written on the other side.
Nidhi.
The shopkeeper took the paper back and placed it beside Arnav's marble piece.
"Uncle, hum thodi der baad aake le jayenge," Kunal said.
(Uncle, we'll come and collect it after some time.)
The shopkeeper nodded.
"Theek hai beta."
(Okay, son.)
Arnav had been standing quietly beside them the entire time. He finally looked at the marble piece and then at his friends.
"Tum dono ko ye sab karne ki zarurat nahi hai," he said calmly.
(You two don't need to do all this.)
"Kuch nahi hai, bhai. Bas ek chhoti si cheez hai," Kunal replied with a grin.
(It's nothing, brother. Just a small thing.)
Rohit laughed.
"Waise bhi, tu mana karega aur hum sunenge, aisa thodi na hai."
(Besides, you think we'll actually listen just because you said no?)
Arnav gave them a look but didn't bother arguing further. He shook his head and took out his phone.
"Tum dono ko jo karna hai karo," he muttered before answering the call.
(You two do whatever you want.)
Kunal and Rohit continued talking while Arnav stood a little away from them, listening to the person on the phone.
A little later, Rahul (Nidhi's brother)
returned to the shop to collect the marble Nidhi had ordered earlier.
"Uncle, Nidhi naam wala marble ready hai?" he asked.
(Uncle, is the marble with the name Nidhi ready?)
The shopkeeper immediately recognized the name and picked up Nidhi's marble piece from the counter.
"Haan beta, ye raha."
(Yes, son. Here it is.)
Rahul reached for it, but the shopkeeper looked around the counter.
"Beta, isko wrap karne ke liye newspaper nahi hai. Meri beti newspaper lene gayi hai, thodi der mein aa jayegi."
(Son, I don't have any newspaper to wrap this. My daughter has gone to get some and she'll be back soon.)
Rahul glanced toward the entrance.
"Uncle, mere paas zyada time nahi hai. Main aise hi le jaunga."
(Uncle, I don't have much time. I'll just take it like this.)
The shopkeeper looked at the marble in his hand.
"Arre beta, dhyaan se le jaana. Haath se gir gaya toh toot sakta hai."
(Hey son, take it carefully. It could break if you drop it.)
Rahul nodded.
"Koi baat nahi, uncle. Main sambhal lunga."
(It's okay, uncle. I'll handle it.)
Arnav, who was still standing nearby, happened to notice the conversation. He glanced at the shopkeeper and then at Rahul. He opened his bag and found a few old academic papers that he no longer needed. He pulled them out and held them toward the shopkeeper.
"Isse wrap kar dijiye."
(You can use these to wrap it.)
The shopkeeper looked at the papers before taking them.
"Arre beta, yeh toh documents hain."
(But son, these are documents.)
"Purane hain. Ab kisi kaam ke nahi," Arnav replied simply.
(They're old. They're of no use anymore.)
The shopkeeper nodded and accepted the papers.
"Dhaga bhi nahi hai, beta."
(I don't even have any thread, son.)
Rahul immediately shook his head.
"Uncle, main aise hi le jaunga."
(Uncle, I'll just take it like this.)
"Ruk ja, beta. Paper mein rakh deta hoon. Marble hai, toot gaya toh dikkat hogi."
(Wait, son. Let me wrap it in the paper. It's marble. If it breaks, it'll be a problem.)
The shopkeeper carefully wrapped Nidhi's marble in the old academic papers Arnav had given him and handed it to Rahul.
"Lo beta, ab le jao."
(Here, son. Now take it.)
Rahul took the wrapped marble carefully. "Thank you, uncle." He turned around and left the shop.
Arnav watched him leave for a moment before putting his phone back to his ear. A few feet away, Kunal and Rohit were still talking about the marble they had bought for him.
---
After Arnav and his friends left, the shopkeeper's daughter arrived at the shop a little later.
Her father handed her the small paper that had been kept beside the marble plaque.
"Beta, isme Arnav naam likh dena. Main ghar ja raha hoon. Customer aayega toh de dena."
(Daughter, write the name Arnav on this. I'm going home. Give it to the customer when he comes.)
She nodded and took the paper. She turned it over and wrote Arnav on the empty side. Then she paused.
"Areey... doosri taraf kya likhna hai? Papa ne toh bataya hi nahi."
(what am I supposed to write on the other side? Dad didn't tell me.)
She turned the paper around. Her eyes fell on the name already written there.
Nidhi.
"Ohh... Nidhi likhna hai," she murmured, assuming her father had simply forgotten to mention it.
(Oh... I have to write Nidhi.)
She carefully wrote Nidhi beside Arnav's name.
She looked at both names for a moment before placing the paper beside the marble plaque. A little later, she wrapped the marble plaque carefully in paper and kept it safely behind the counter.
---
Later that evening, Nidhi and Riya were on their way back to their Dadi's house after buying vegetables from the market.
"Didi, aapko kya lagta hai? Rahul marble plaque lekar aa gaya hoga?" Riya asked.
(Sister, what do you think? Do you think Rahul has brought the marble plaque home?)
Nidhi adjusted the vegetable bag in her hand.
"Pata nahi. Uske paas phone bhi nahi hai. Ek kaam karte hain, ghar jaate waqt ek baar dukaan mein dekh lenge."
(I don't know. He doesn't even have a phone. Let's do one thing. We'll check the shop once on our way home.)
After buying the remaining vegetables, the two sisters walked toward the marble shop. When they reached the shop, Nidhi looked around.
"Uncle nahi hain?" she asked.
(Uncle isn't here?)
The shopkeeper's daughter looked up from the counter.
"Papa ghar chale gaye. Aapko kuch chahiye?"
(Dad has gone home. Do you need something?)
"Nidhi naam wala marble plaque tha. Woh ready hai? Sirf ek naam wala tha."
(There was a marble plaque with the name Nidhi on it. Is it ready? It only had one name on it.)
The girl nodded.
"Haan didi, ek minute. Main dhoondti hoon."
(Yes, sister. One minute. I'll look for it.)
She began checking the marble plaques kept around the counter.
Just then, Kunal entered the shop.
"Beta, Arnav naam wala marble plaque ready hai? Woh do naam wala tha."
(Child, is the marble plaque with the name Arnav ready? It was the one with two names.)
The girl looked up at him and then glanced at Nidhi.
"Haan bhaiya. Ek minute. Aapka order ready hai."
(Yes, brother. One minute. Your order is ready.)
She then looked at Nidhi.
"Didi, pehle main bhaiya ko de doon? Phir aapka dhoondti hoon."
(Sister, should I give his order first? Then I'll look for yours.)
Nidhi nodded.
"Haan, koi baat nahi."
(Yes, no problem.)
The girl picked up the already wrapped marble plaque with the two names and placed it on the counter.
"Bas isme dhaga laga deti hoon."
(I'll just tie a thread around it.)
She looked around for the thread but couldn't find one.
"Arre, dhaga toh hai hi nahi."
(Oh, there's no thread here.)
Nidhi immediately opened her purse and took out a red thread.
"Ye lijiye, isse baandh dijiye."
(Here, you can use this to tie it.)
The girl smiled and took the thread from her.
"Thank you, didi."
(Thank you, sister.)
Nidhi simply nodded.
The girl carefully wrapped the red thread around the marble plaque and tied it securely.
"Ye lijiye, bhaiya."
(Here you go, brother.)
Kunal took the marble plaque, paid the remaining amount, and left the shop.
Nidhi was still waiting for her own marble plaque when her phone started ringing.
She looked at the screen.
Maa.
She immediately answered the call.
"Ji, Maa?"
(Yes, Mom.)
"Nandu, Rahul marble plaque lekar aa gaya hai."
(Nandu, Rahul has brought the marble plaque home.)
"Okay, Maa."
She ended the call and looked at the shopkeeper's daughter.
"Rahul mera bhai hai. Woh marble plaque pehle hi lekar ghar chala gaya."
(Rahul is my brother. He already took the marble plaque home.)
The girl nodded.
"Ohh, achha."
(Oh, okay.)
Nidhi smiled politely.
The two sisters picked up their vegetable bags and started walking back toward their Dadi's house.
The shopkeeper's daughter watched them leave for a moment before turning back to the counter.
-----------
Nidhi had no idea that the simple red thread she had taken from her purse had just been tied around a marble plaque carrying both Arnav's name and hers.
And Arnav had no idea that the old academic papers he had casually given the shopkeeper had been used to wrap a marble plaque that belonged to Nidhi.
They were still strangers. They had never met, never spoken, and never even seen each other. Yet, without either of them knowing, fate had already tied the first thread of their story-a simple piece of paper and a red thread.
Their meeting was still yet to happen, but fate had already written the first page of their story.
Woh abhi bhi ek-doosre se anjaan the. Na kabhi mile the, na ek-doosre ko dekha tha. Phir bhi, bina jaane, kismat ne unki kahaani ka pehla dhaaga baandh diya tha-ek kagaz aur ek laal dhaage ke zariye.
Unki mulaqat abhi baaki thi, lekin kismat ne unki kahaani ka pehla panna likh diya tha.
ึดึถึธ ๐ เฃช ึดึถึธ๐ฆขเผเผเฟ
"เคเคฟเคธเฅเคฎเคค เคจเฅ เคเฅเคกเคผเฅ เคงเคพเคเฅ, เคฎเฅเคนเคฌเฅเคฌเคค เคจเฅ เคจเคฟเคญเคพเค เคตเคพเคฆเฅเฅค"
~เคเคพเคเคเคผ เคเคฐ เคงเคพเคเฅ
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