In the heart of Rajasthan, the ancient village showed off a rich cultural heritage and age-old traditions. Narrow streets ran through busy markets where vendors sold their goods. Children played in the pebbled street, and the smell of spices filled the air. Cows wandered slowly, not bothered by the crowds, while camels decorated with colourful garlands walked by, adding to the village's lively scene. Amidst this lively backdrop, in a simple yet welcoming home, lived a girl named Tripti Parihar.
At seventeen, she was the epitome of calm and sweetness, her presence bringing warmth to everyone around her. Tripti seemed calm, but she loved singing and dancing. These passions brought a playful sparkle to her eyes. Lying on her bed, she hummed softly, her voice echoing like a nightingale's song through the room.
Her mind wandered, lost in the melodies she loved so dearly. The clouds outside began to gather, signaling the onset of the monsoon. As the first drops of rain hit the rooftop, a familiar excitement stirred within her. Unable to resist the call of the rain, Tripti stood up and made her way to the balcony. The cool breeze kissed her face as she stepped outside, her bare feet relishing the feel of the wet tiles.
The rain drizzled gently, creating a harmony with the earth below. With a graceful twirl, she began singing; her voice blending harmoniously with the pattering raindrops. She took her dupatta and held it in front of her like a veil, covering her face completely as she danced gracefully. Each movement was an expression of her unbound joy, her voice ringing clear and pure in the rain..
Unknown to her, Jeevan Rajwans the new District Collector, was out for his evening walk. Known for his strict and stern nature, Jeevan was a man who commanded respect. At twenty-seven, he handled his responsibilities with strong dedication. His traditional values and commitment to duty guided everything he did, leaving little time for personal pleasures. As he walked through the rain-so, his attention was caught by an angelic voice. Drawn by the sound, his eyes were soon fixed on Tripti, dancing gracefully in the balcony above.
Her beauty, hidden by the dupatta, and the innocence of her dance captivated him, breaking through the rigid walls he had built around himself. Jeevan stood mesmerized, a rare smile appearing on his lips. He watched her with admiration and curiosity, feeling a special happiness in his heart even though he couldn't see her face. The stern lines of his face softened as he took in the sight, his usual composure momentarily forgotten. "Ladoo!" her mother's voice called from inside the house.
Startled, Tripti paused, quickly removing the dupatta from her face, she hurried inside. Jeevan, still standing below, felt a pang of disappointment as she disappeared from his view. He had been mesmerized by her dance and the purity of her voice, yet he hadn't seen her face. The image of the graceful dancer lingered in his mind, leaving him with an unexplainable sense of longing and curiousity.
Tripti's mother called from the kitchen, her voice gentle but firm.
Mrs Parihar- ladoo, come help me with preparing dinner. Startled from her thoughts, Tripti quickly placed her dupatta back in its place and rushed inside. The rain continued its soft pattering outside, but inside the house, the noise of pots and pans and the aroma of spices filled the air.
Tripti- Coming, Maa. (she responded, hurrying to assist her mother) Together, they began to prepare the evening meal, the familiar routine bringing a sense of comfort to Tripti.
Meanwhile, under the shade of a grand peepal tree in the courtyard, Mr. Parihar, was seated with his friends and relatives. The men talked lively, their voices mixing with the sound of the rain. The conversation soon shifted to a topic that was on Mr. parihar's mind.
Mr Chaudhary- Parihar sahib, Tripti is already seventeen. Have you thought about her marriage? She is a beautiful girl, but if you wait too long, she will be a late bride, and finding a good groom will be difficult (said one of the older men, a longtime friend of the family).
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