Shailaza's Blog

Category: The Time Keeper’s Poem

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixteen: A Different Kind of Battle

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixteen: A Different Kind of Battle

    The drive back was quieter than usual, not awkward, but contemplative. Arin kept glancing at Astha from the corner of his eye, still processing everything he had seen earlier. Her warmth, the way people gravitated toward her, the way she disarmed them with humor and made them feel valued—it was something entirely different from the guarded, reserved woman she seemed to be at work.

    Astha, oblivious to his observations, was busy scrolling through her phone, checking a message from Shanaya.

    “She’s reminding me to bring ice cream,” she muttered. “Like I’d dare go home without it. The wrath of a teenager is not something I’m prepared to deal with.”

    Arin smiled. “Wise decision.”

    As they pulled into the parking lot, Astha unbuckled her seatbelt. “Thanks for the lift, but I’m warning you—this doesn’t mean you get permanent errand duty.”

    Arin leaned back against his seat, a slow smile forming. “I’ll take my chances.”

    She rolled her eyes, stepping out of the car. Arin followed, carrying a few bags despite her protests. As they made their way upstairs, the moment they stepped into the hallway, the door to Astha’s apartment flew open.

    “Ice cream?” Shanaya asked immediately, eyes darting to the bags.

    Astha sighed dramatically, handing over a small tub. “Your lifeline, madam.”

    Shanaya grinned. “You live to fight another day. Oh, hey, Arin! Did Mom make you carry everything? She’s a master at delegation.”

    “I’m starting to see that,” Arin replied dryly.

    Astha gave him a pointed look. “I don’t hear any complaints.”

    Shanaya laughed. “You poor, poor man. Welcome to the club.”

    Astha shook her head, then turned to Arin. “Since you’re already here, might as well stay for dinner. Shanaya’s cooking.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow at Shanaya, who nodded. “Oh yeah, I’m a culinary genius. As long as you like burnt toast, slightly overcooked pasta, and the occasional fire hazard.”

    Astha patted her daughter’s head. “We set low expectations, so when the food turns out edible, it feels like a win.”

    Arin chuckled, feeling something warm settle in his chest. This—this effortless banter, this sense of belonging—it was something he had never truly experienced before. And he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to step away from it.

    Astha led them inside, tossing her bag onto the couch. “Alright, let’s see if we make it through this meal without the smoke alarm going off.”

    Arin glanced around the cozy apartment, the scent of home-cooked food already filling the air. For someone who had spent his life surrounded by sterility and precision, this chaos, this warmth, was something entirely foreign.

    And yet, he found himself wanting more of it.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifteen: The Ride Home

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifteen: The Ride Home

    The next evening, as they wrapped up work, Astha turned to Arin just as they stepped out of the office.

    “I have some errands to run for my family. You don’t have to wait. I’ll take an auto home,” she said matter-of-factly, already fishing her phone out of her bag to book a ride.

    Arin, who had been walking beside her, stopped. “I don’t mind waiting.”

    Astha paused and gave him a flat look. “You realize that could take hours? I have to go to the pharmacy, the grocery store, and pick up something for Shanaya. I won’t be quick.”

    “It’s fine,” Arin said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I’ll wait.”

    Astha narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you one of those people who thinks chivalry means making life inconvenient for yourself? Because, just so you know, I am perfectly capable of—”

    “It’s not chivalry,” Arin interrupted smoothly. “It’s efficiency. You’ll already be exhausted after running around. It makes sense for me to drive you home rather than have you wait for an auto.”

    Astha sighed and shook her head. “You know, for someone who claims to be efficient, you really like making things more complicated than they need to be.”

    Arin smiled. “I could say the same about you.”

    Astha exhaled in mild exasperation but didn’t argue further. “Fine. But don’t complain when I make you carry grocery bags.”

    “Duly noted,” Arin replied, his expression unreadable, but his eyes glinting with amusement.

    And so, for the first time, Arin found himself tagging along with Astha, watching her navigate the small, everyday routines of her life—things that were unremarkable to her but utterly fascinating to him.

    As they went from one shop to another, Arin observed something unexpected. Astha had a way with people, a quiet charisma that wasn’t forced but felt entirely natural. At the pharmacy, the staff greeted her with familiarity, and within moments, she had the usually gruff pharmacist chuckling at one of her wry remarks.

    At the grocery store, she bantered with the vendor, making light-hearted complaints about the price of vegetables while deftly convincing him to give her the freshest produce at a discount. “Come on, Bhaiya, I practically keep your shop running. The least you can do is not charge me extra for looking like I have expensive taste.”

    The man laughed, shaking his head. “Aap toh humesha jeet jaati hain, Astha Madam. (You always win, Astha Madam.)”

    “Well, someone has to,” she said with a dramatic sigh, making the vendor chuckle even more.

    Arin watched, marveling at this side of her. He had always known her as sharp, reserved, sometimes distant. But here, surrounded by familiar faces, she was warm, kind, and—dare he say it—charming. She made people laugh, not in an over-the-top way, but with quiet, clever humor that seemed to disarm even the most reluctant of souls.

    By the time they reached the final stop, Arin found himself carrying half her bags, despite his earlier amusement at her threat. “This was planned from the start, wasn’t it?” he asked dryly.

    Astha smiled. “I make people do my bidding by being nice to them. Works every time.”

    Arin shook his head, amused. “Noted. I’ll have to be more cautious next time.”

    She tilted her head. “Or you could just accept that you’re doomed like everyone else who knows me.”

    For the first time in a long time, Arin didn’t mind the idea of being ‘doomed.’

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Thirteen: A New Ally

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Thirteen: A New Ally

    Shanaya Mehra was a whirlwind of energy, laughter, and quick-witted remarks—traits that often exasperated her mother and endeared her to others. At seventeen, she had inherited Astha’s sharp mind and love for words, but where her mother was reserved, Shanaya was unfiltered, never hesitating to speak her mind.

    It was on one such afternoon that she ran into Arin Verma for the first time. She had just returned from a study session with her friends, her backpack slung over one shoulder, when she spotted the new neighbor locking up his apartment.

    She tilted her head, studying him with open curiosity. “You’re the new guy, right? The editor?”

    Arin turned, momentarily surprised by her directness. “That’s right. And you must be Shanaya.”

    Her eyes lit up. “Ah, so Mom told you about me. Don’t believe everything she says—I’m far more brilliant and much less of a troublemaker than she claims.”

    Arin smiled. “Duly noted.”

    Shanaya fell into step beside him as they walked toward the elevator. “So, since you’re an editor, that means you’re good with words, right?”

    “I suppose you could say that.”

    “Great,” she said, grinning mischievously. “I need a teammate.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “A teammate?”

    “Scrabble. Mom beats me every single time. It’s infuriating. I need someone who can match her brain and give me a fighting chance. And since you literally work with words for a living, I’d say you qualify.”

    Arin considered this. He had never played Scrabble before, but he understood the mechanics of language better than most. More than that, he found himself intrigued by Shanaya’s vibrant enthusiasm.

    “Alright,” he said finally. “I’ll be your teammate.”

    Shanaya pumped a fist in the air. “Yes! Finally, I have a chance at victory. This is going to be legendary.”

    As they stepped into the elevator, Arin glanced at her, a quiet curiosity growing within him. He had spent all his time trying to understand Astha, but perhaps the best way to do so was through the people she loved.

    And Shanaya, with her infectious energy and unfiltered thoughts, might just be the key.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM Chapter Twelve: A Whisper To The Stars

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM Chapter Twelve: A Whisper To The Stars

    It was late when Arin stepped out onto his balcony, the cool night air wrapping around him like a silent companion. The city below was winding down, its lights flickering in warm hues, and above, the sky stretched vast and endless, speckled with a million glowing stars.

    He had not expected to hear her voice.

    Astha stood at the edge of her own balcony, her hands wrapped around herself as she gazed upward. Her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, but in the quiet stillness of the night, every word carried.

    “Keep them safe,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on the heavens. “My parents, my daughter. Keep them happy, keep them healthy.”

    Arin remained in the shadows, unmoving, listening as she continued speaking—not to him, not to anyone, but to the stars themselves.

    “And my job… let me keep it. I don’t ask for more. I have what I need, and that is enough.”

    She paused for a long moment, as if collecting her thoughts, before exhaling softly. “No more entanglements. I don’t need love, and I certainly don’t want it. I have no use for heartbreak, not at this age. So, please… if you’re listening, don’t send anyone my way. I am happy as I am.”

    Arin felt something stir within him, an unfamiliar pang in his chest. Her words were resolute, but he could hear the unspoken weight behind them—perhaps even a quiet loneliness she had long made peace with.

    She sighed and stepped back, rubbing her arms as if shaking off an invisible chill before retreating inside.

    Arin remained where he was, staring at the place where she had stood. He had come to this world seeking answers, but tonight, he had only found more questions.

    And for the first time, he wondered—had he already disrupted something he was never meant to touch?

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Eleven: The First Ride

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Eleven: The First Ride

    The next morning, Astha walked out of her apartment, adjusting the strap of her bag as she made her way to the parking lot. She wasn’t particularly excited about the carpool arrangement, but she had agreed to it without much thought. These initiatives never lasted anyway.

    As she neared the car, she found Arin already waiting, leaning against the driver’s side with his usual composed expression. He gave her a polite nod before opening the door. “Morning. Ready to go?”

    She slid into the passenger seat, buckling up as she adjusted her glasses. “Sure. Let’s get this over with.”

    Arin started the car, the engine humming softly as they pulled out of the parking lot. The silence between them was not awkward, but rather filled with an unspoken understanding—neither was particularly interested in forced small talk.

    Astha glanced out of the window, watching the city wake up. “So, what’s the plan? You drive this week, I drive next?”

    Arin nodded. “That’s what we agreed upon. Unless you’d prefer a different arrangement.”

    “No, this works,” she said with a shrug. “Just don’t expect me to be chatty in the mornings.”

    Arin’s lips twitched in what might have been amusement. “Noted.”

    They continued the drive in comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the faint hum of the radio. Astha appreciated that Arin didn’t feel the need to fill the space with unnecessary conversation. He drove smoothly, his focus unwavering, as if even this simple task was part of a greater purpose.

    Astha found herself sneaking a glance at him. There was something about the way he carried himself—calm, unshaken, yet strangely observant. It was as if he was always paying attention, always trying to piece together the world around him.

    As they approached the office, Arin finally spoke. “Would you like me to pick you up in the evening as well, or would you prefer to manage your way back separately?”

    Astha considered for a moment before responding. “Might as well keep it simple. Pick me up when you leave.”

    Arin nodded, as if he had expected her response. “Alright.”

    The moment the car came to a stop in the office parking lot, Astha was already unbuckling her seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride. See you later.”

    Before he could respond, she was out the door, making her way inside without a second glance.

    Arin watched her go, a faint trace of curiosity flickering in his expression. She was different from anyone he had met before—unmoved by his presence, indifferent to the little changes he was introducing into her life.

    And that only made him want to understand her more.

  • The Time Keeper’s Poem: Chapter Ten: A New Pairing

    The Time Keeper’s Poem: Chapter Ten: A New Pairing

    The next office meeting was held in the main conference room, the usual murmur of casual conversations filling the space as employees settled into their seats. Arin stood at the head of the table, his presence commanding yet calm.

    “Good morning, everyone,” he began, scanning the room. “As you all know, efficiency is key in everything we do—not just in our work, but in the way we live. With that in mind, I’ve introduced a new initiative. From now on, we will be organizing carpooling among employees who live in the same locality. This will help us reduce our carbon footprint, save fuel, and hopefully, make commutes more pleasant.”

    There were mixed reactions—some nods of approval, some hushed whispers of uncertainty. Astha barely looked up from her notepad, uninterested in yet another office initiative that likely wouldn’t last beyond a few weeks.

    “The carpooling teams have already been arranged based on addresses,” Arin continued, glancing down at his notes. “You will find your assigned partners listed in the group emails sent to you shortly. Please coordinate with your respective colleagues to arrange your commute.”

    As the meeting concluded and people began filing out, a coworker approached Astha with an amused smile.

    “Guess what, Astha? You’ve been paired with the boss himself. Arin Verma is your carpool partner.”

    Astha stopped mid-step. “What?” She turned to face the woman, frowning. “You’re joking.”

    “Not at all. You live in the same building, so it makes sense. You should discuss the details with him.”

    Astha exhaled sharply. Of all the people in the office, why did it have to be him?

    She wasn’t particularly bothered, though. She had seen plenty of these office initiatives fade into oblivion within weeks. This one would likely be no different.

    Later that day, she finally found Arin in the hallway near the break room. “So, I hear we’re carpooling,” she said, her tone neutral.

    Arin turned to her, his expression unreadable. “Yes. I’ll be getting my car this week, so I’ll drive us for the first few days. Next week, it’ll be your turn.”

    Astha shrugged. “Alright. Just let me know what time.”

    Arin studied her for a moment, expecting resistance or at least some level of discomfort. But she was indifferent, as if it made no difference to her at all.

    And that, somehow, made him more curious.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: A Love That Transcends Time- A Story That Everyone Deserves to Read!

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: A Love That Transcends Time- A Story That Everyone Deserves to Read!

    As a single mother, I poured my heart into creating Arin—the kind of love I always wanted but never found. He’s not just a fictional hero; he’s the embodiment of every woman’s hope for a love that stays. If you’ve ever dreamed of a love like that, you need to read this story. Start with the Prologue https://singlemothers.blog/2025/01/24/across-time-and-space-the-time-travellers-poem/

    #TheTimeKeepersPoem #SingleMomWrites #RomanceBeyondTime #DreamLove

  • The Time Keeper’s Poem: Chapter Six: The Words That Meant More

    The Time Keeper’s Poem: Chapter Six: The Words That Meant More

    Astha had always been careful about what she shared. She wasn’t the kind of person who poured her heart out, who spoke about dreams as if they meant something.

    No, she had learned her lesson.

    And that lesson was simple—

    Words don’t change fate.

    The newsroom was buzzing with its usual chaos.

    Reporters typing furiously, phones ringing, coffee cups being refilled for the third time.

    Astha was reviewing an article when Sheetal dropped into the chair beside her, grinning.

    “Astha, why don’t you write poetry for the newspaper?”

    Astha looked up, startled.

    “What?”

    Sheetal rolled her eyes. “You write so beautifully. Why keep it hidden?”

    Astha sighed, shaking her head. “It’s just words.”

    Sheetal frowned. “It’s more than that, and you know it.”

    “No,” Astha said, her voice quieter.

    “A poem is nothing but words strung together.

    Words that don’t belong to each other.

    They are just cries of the heart scribbled in haste.

    They just speak of love, but they don’t change destiny or fate.”

    Sheetal studied her for a long moment.

    Then, softly, she said, “Don’t lose faith, Astha.”

    Astha smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

    “I lost faith a long time ago.”

    Across the room, Arin Verma sat at his desk.

    And though he appeared focused on his work, he had heard every single word.

    His hands stilled over his keyboard.

    His mind replayed her words over and over.

    “They just speak of love, but they don’t change destiny or fate.”

    And yet—he was here.

    Because of her poem.

    Because her words had reached across time and pulled him into her world.

    Because her poetry had already changed fate.

    And one day, he would prove it to her.

    One day, she would believe again.

    But for now, he simply watched.

    And waited.

    And silently made a promise to himself.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter One: The Woman in the Library

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter One: The Woman in the Library

    The air inside the small library carried the scent of old paper and quiet contemplation. A stark contrast to the controlled, sterile environment Arin had always known. He moved between the shelves unseen, observing the woman who sat by the window, her fingers dancing over the pages of a notebook. Strands of her dark hair slipped from her bun, framing a face absorbed in thought.

    Astha Mehra. The woman behind the poem.

    She was 46 years old, with an air of quiet determination about her. She wore jeans and a well-fitted t-shirt, the kind of outfit she was most comfortable in. Formal occasions sometimes forced her into a dress, and she knew she looked decent in them, but sarees were not her style. A pair of spectacles rested on her nose, occasionally slipping as she pushed them back absentmindedly. She considered herself average—perhaps even overweight—but there was something effortless about the way she moved, as if her body was simply a vessel for her mind, always lost in thought.

    Her pen scratched across the notebook in quick, sharp strokes, pausing every so often as she bit her lip in concentration. Her brows knit together when she struggled with a word, and then she would scribble something out, exhaling in frustration. She muttered under her breath, sometimes shaking her head at herself before continuing.

    Arin watched, fascinated. He wanted to understand what had driven her to write those words. Was it longing? Was it loss? Did she even know what she had captured in that poem—something so powerful that it had reached through time and found him?

    She sighed, stretching her fingers before flipping back a few pages in her notebook. Her lips moved silently as she read over something she had written earlier. Then, a small, satisfied smile flickered across her face, and she tapped her pen against the paper before adding a new line.

    That smile stirred something in him.

    He took in every detail of her—the way she pushed her glasses up, the way her lips moved as she read, the quiet sighs that punctuated her thoughts. She was a woman accustomed to solitude, to having thoughts that belonged only to herself. She was not trying to impress anyone. And perhaps that was what made her so compelling.

    She suddenly looked up, her gaze shifting toward the ceiling, as if she was about to speak to someone unseen. Instead, she pressed her lips together and shook her head, returning to her work.

    She had no idea he was here.

    For now.

    …To be continued in the next post

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM

    A New Online Novel by Shailaza Singh

    PROLOGUE

    The world Arin Verma came from had long abandoned the chaos of human emotions. Efficiency, logic, and precision ruled, governed by the Time Keepers—an elite order that monitored and adjusted the flow of time across civilizations. They were the silent architects of history, ensuring that the past remained undisturbed, the future untainted. In their world, there was no space for love, passion, or art—these things were seen as relics of a primitive age, distractions that clouded judgment and disrupted progress.

    Arin had always been the perfect Time Keeper. He had trained since childhood, mastering the delicate balance of time manipulation, able to navigate its endless currents with precision. His duty was to archive and preserve significant moments of history, ensuring that time remained untouched by interference. Yet, despite his success, a quiet hollowness had always lingered within him, a sensation he was never able to name.

    Then he found the poem.

    It had been buried deep within the archives of a dying Earth civilization, an unremarkable entry amid countless historical texts. He should have overlooked it, dismissed it as another meaningless fragment from a world that had long since faded. But something made him pause.

    The words were simple, yet they struck him like a wave crashing against stone:

    What we yearn to find, does it yearn for us?
    What we dream of, does it dream of us?
    What I seek, is it my seeker too?
    If that is true, will I ever meet you?

    The moment he read it, something inside him cracked open. The words pulled at something deep within, something long buried by the rules of his world. It was as though the poet had reached across time itself and touched the very core of his being. For the first time in his existence, Arin felt moved—a sensation foreign to him, yet impossible to ignore.

    Who had written these words? Did they understand the ache that now burned within him? He had to know. A search through the archives led him to a name: Astha Mehra. A writer from Jaipur. A poet. A woman from Earth’s past, from an era long before his own. She had lived, breathed, and written those words, never knowing they would find their way to him. The realization struck him like lightning—he had spent his existence preserving the past, but never had he stepped into it for personal reasons.

    Until now.

    His hands hovered over the time coordinates. The elders would never approve of such a mission, but they had no reason to suspect him. He was one of their best.

    For the first time, Arin Verma was about to break the very rules he had sworn to uphold.

    And he had no idea what awaited him on the other side.

    …To be continued in the next post

    This online novel with all its chapters is an original copyrighted work of the author Shailaza Singh. All rights reserved.