Tag: The Time Keeper’s Poem

  • NEW SHORT STORY: THE DOOR SHE OPENED

    She had lived in the house for twenty years, but last night, she discovered a door she had never seen before.

    It shouldn’t have been there.

    The wood was older than the house itself, its surface worn, its handle cold to the touch. A relic from a time she didn’t remember.

    She hesitated, then pushed it open. The door groaned—a sigh of something long-forgotten waking up.

    Inside, the room smelled of dust and damp earth. In the dim light, she saw small figures curled up on beds of discarded paper and broken quills. Their faces were smudged with ink, their eyes hollow, their breaths shallow.

    She shivered. “Who… are you?”

    One of the girls sat up, her voice quiet but achingly familiar.

    “We are the stories you left behind.”

    The others stirred, their whispers like rustling pages.

    “We are the ideas you ignored, the possibilities you abandoned, the words you were too busy to write.”

    She felt her knees go weak.

    The girl reached for her hand, her fingers ice-cold, yet pulsing with something alive.

    “Will you leave us again?”

    The door behind her creaked, as if waiting for her answer.

    Sherry exhaled, looking up from the page. “That story… it felt real.”

    Arin, sitting across from her, smiled knowingly. “Maybe because it is.”

    “You mean we really do leave stories behind when we ignore them?”

    “Haven’t you felt them?” Arin leaned closer. “The ideas tugging at your mind before sleep, the whispers of inspiration when you’re too busy to write them down? The abandoned stories don’t vanish, Sherry. They wait.”

    She shivered, her fingers tightening around her notebook. “So… what happens if I don’t return to them?”

    “The same thing that happens when you ignore any calling.” Arin’s voice softened. “They fade.”

    She looked down at the story again, the words alive beneath her fingertips. “Not this time.”

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Seventy Two: The Wedding Madness

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Seventy Two: The Wedding Madness

    After the overwhelming response from friends, family, and coworkers, Astha was more determined than ever to take matters into her own hands. A quiet wedding, just as she wanted, was the only way forward.

    “We need to run away,” she announced one evening as she and Arin sat on her balcony.

    Arin smiled. “Eloping? That sounds scandalous, Mrs. Verma.”

    Astha shot him a look. “I am not Mrs. Verma. Not yet. And if this madness continues, I never will be.”

    He chuckled, pulling her into his arms. “Alright, alright. What’s the plan?”

    She leaned her head against his shoulder, thinking. “Something simple. Just us, Shanaya, my parents, maybe two witnesses at the most. Somewhere peaceful. No rituals, no extravagant outfits, no overenthusiastic wedding planners forcing me to wear gold jewelry the size of a chandelier.”

    Arin laughed, brushing a kiss against her forehead. “Fine. No chandelier jewelry. Just you, me, and

    our closest people. Where do you want to do it?”

    Astha thought for a moment, then smiled. “Udaipur.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “The place where I fell hopelessly in love with you?”

    She rolled her eyes. “Where I realized you’re not as insufferable as I initially thought.”

    He chuckled. “Same thing.”

    She sighed dramatically. “Alright, hopeless romantic. Let’s get married in Udaipur.”


    Operation: The Great Escape

    The next day, Astha carefully broke the plan to Shanaya, expecting resistance. Instead, her daughter’s eyes lit up.

    “Wait… we’re actually running away?” Shanaya grinned mischievously. “This is the best thing you’ve ever done, Mom.”

    Astha narrowed her eyes. “I prefer to call it strategic planning.”

    “Uh-huh. And does Nana and Nani know?”

    Astha sighed. “We’ll tell them tonight.”

    As expected, her parents were supportive, though her mother insisted on at least some traditional elements. “No matter how small this wedding is, beta, you need to wear something special.”

    Astha groaned. “I knew this was coming.”

    Her father chuckled. “You can run from the big wedding, but you can’t escape your mother.”

    Arin smiled. “Sounds like I should prepare for battle.”

    Astha’s mother looked at him approvingly. “Good boy. Now, let’s talk about wedding attire.”

    Astha sighed in defeat while Arin simply held her hand under the table, squeezing it reassuringly.


    The Escape Begins

    Two nights before the supposed grand wedding everyone expected, Astha and Arin, along with Shanaya and her parents, quietly packed their bags and left for Udaipur. The plan was simple—arrive, get the legal paperwork done, find a small place by the lake, and exchange vows.

    As they sat in the car, Shanaya looked at Arin. “So, technically, you’re kidnapping my mother. Should I be concerned?”

    Arin smiled. “Aren’t you my accomplice in this?”

    Shanaya grinned. “Fair point.”

    Astha sighed. “I am regretting this already.”

    Arin leaned in and whispered, “No, you’re not.”

    She turned to glare at him, only to find him looking at her with that look—the one that always managed to undo her.

    She sighed. “Fine. But if anything goes wrong, I will actually run away.”

    Arin laughed, squeezing her hand. “Noted.”


    The Wedding by the Lake

    The morning of the wedding was calm, unlike the chaos they had left behind. The sun shimmered over the still waters of Lake Pichola as Astha stepped out in a simple ivory saree, her mother’s choice. Her father held her hand briefly before passing it to Arin.

    “You better take care of my daughter, beta,” he said gruffly.

    Arin met his gaze steadily. “With my life.”

    As they stood together in front of the officiant, Shanaya dramatically wiped fake tears. “This is so beautiful. My poor mother, finally getting married.”

    Astha rolled her eyes. “Shanaya, hush.”

    Arin smiled. “Let her have her moment.”

    Astha turned back to him, her heart swelling as she met his gaze. “I can’t believe we actually did this.”

    He took her hands in his, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “Believe it, wife.”

    And as they exchanged their vows under the golden hues of the Udaipur sky, Astha realized—this was exactly how it was meant to be.

    Just them. No grand spectacle.

    No chaos.

    Just love.

    THE END

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Seventy: A Prophecy Is Fulfilled

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Seventy: A Prophecy Is Fulfilled

    It was an evening like any other. Astha and Arin sat comfortably in his apartment, sipping tea, wrapped in the warmth of familiarity. The city lights shimmered outside, their glow reflecting in the silent understanding between them. Arin leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out, while Astha curled her feet under her, flipping absently through a book.

    Then it happened.

    A low, vibrating hum filled the air, growing louder as a shimmering portal tore through the space before them. The Elders were calling.

    Arin’s jaw tightened. He had been expecting this. He set his cup down and stood, his body instantly alert. Astha placed her hand on his arm before he could move.

    “Are we doing this?” she asked, her voice steady but her eyes searching his.

    He covered her hand with his own, pressing it gently. “We don’t have a choice. But I’ll be right there with you.”

    She nodded, gripping his fingers briefly before they stepped through the portal together, their world dissolving behind them.


    The Prophecy Revealed

    The Elders stood tall before them, their expressions unreadable, their robes flowing as if caught in an unseen breeze. The vastness of the timekeeper’s world stretched around them, an endless abyss of swirling energy.

    “There is an ancient prophecy,” one of the Elders intoned, their voice resonating in the space around them. “One written before even our kind existed.”

    Astha and Arin exchanged glances.

    “The prophecy foretells of a timekeeper who will defy the laws of time, who will cross the barriers to find love. And through that love, restore balance to our world.” Another Elder stepped forward, his eyes scanning them. “You, Arin, are that timekeeper. And you, Astha, are the love that he has brought back.”

    Astha’s breath hitched. “And what does that mean?”

    The Elders exchanged knowing glances before speaking. “A darkness has begun to consume our world, creeping into the fabric of time itself. Only the two of you, bound by true love, can defeat it.”

    Astha’s fists clenched. “I’ll agree to help. But only on one condition—Arin must be safe at all costs.”

    Arin’s fingers laced through hers, his grip firm. “And I agree only if Astha is protected at all costs.”

    The Elders regarded them in silence for a long moment before one of them murmured, “It is as we feared. Their power is their love.”


    The Training Begins

    The Elders decreed that Arin would train Astha for the battle ahead. Here, in the space between spaces, time did not move as it did in the mortal realm. No time would pass in Astha’s world, no one would know they were gone.

    Astha trained relentlessly. Her body, which had never known battle, soon became attuned to the rhythm of combat. Arin pushed her harder than he ever had, his hands correcting her form, his voice firm but filled with something unspoken—a mix of admiration and pride.

    “You’re not just fighting with your body,” Arin murmured one evening, stepping closer, his fingers adjusting the grip of her sword. “You’re fighting with your heart.”

    Astha looked up at him, breathing heavily. “Then teach me to use it right.”

    His lips quirked up. “You already are.”

    They moved together, training as if they had always been meant to fight side by side. Their steps mirrored each other’s, their attacks and defenses in perfect harmony, almost like a dance choreographed by fate itself.

    One night, after a particularly grueling session, Astha leaned back against him, exhaustion in her limbs, but exhilaration in her veins.

    Arin tilted his head down, his lips grazing her temple. “I’ve never seen anything like you.”

    She smiled, closing her eyes. “That makes two of us.”


    The Final Battle

    The battlefield stretched before them, a realm of swirling darkness and fractured time. The air crackled with unseen forces as the enemy gathered.

    Arin looked at Astha, his fingers brushing hers in a fleeting, silent promise. “Are you ready?”

    Astha met his gaze. “With you? Always.”

    Then they moved, an unstoppable force of light and love. Where Astha faltered, Arin was there to catch her. Where Arin struck, Astha followed, their energies intertwining, their strength feeding into one another. They danced through the battlefield, their movements fluid, their attacks seamless.

    The darkness howled as it was driven back, wave after wave crumbling before them. The final strike came as they stood together, hands clasped, unleashing a surge of energy that shattered the darkness into oblivion.

    The Elders watched in silent awe.

    “You have done what no other has,” one Elder finally spoke. “It is time to celebrate.”

    But Arin knew better. His instincts screamed at him. They weren’t celebrating. They were binding them here.

    He turned to Astha. “We’re leaving. Now.”

    Before the Elders could stop them, Arin pulled her through the portal, their bond ripping them back into their world.


    Back Where They Belong

    They landed back in Arin’s apartment, breathless and trembling. Astha leaned against him, her heart pounding against his chest.

    “You knew, didn’t you?” she whispered.

    He nodded. “They weren’t going to let us go.”

    She let out a shaky laugh, tilting her head up. “So, what now?”

    Arin cupped her face, brushing a strand of hair away. “Now, we live our life.”

    She scoffed, playfully pushing his chest. “You mean, my life.”

    His lips quirked. “Our life.”

    She folded her arms, stepping away. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Verma. In this world, I am only your secret girlfriend.”

    His smirk deepened. “Not for long.”

    She narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

    He stepped closer, his voice dropping into that low, teasing timbre. “I’m going to make you my wife in this world too.”

    Astha scoffed, but her breath hitched when he tilted her chin up, his eyes burning with promise.

    “You’re impossible,” she muttered.

    “And yet,” Arin murmured, tracing a slow, lazy circle against her wrist, “you love it.”

    She rolled her eyes, but the way her fingers curled against his chest betrayed her.

    Because deep down, she knew—when Arin Verma set his mind to something, there was no escaping him.

    And maybe… just maybe… she didn’t want to.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Nine : Scrabble Again

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Nine : Scrabble Again

    The next evening, Arin arrived at Astha’s place for dinner, greeted by Shanaya’s mischievous grin.

    “You’re just in time,” Shanaya announced, arms crossed. “I challenge you to a rematch.”

    Arin smiled. “Scrabble?”

    “Scrabble,” Shanaya confirmed. “Last time, you got lucky.”

    Astha shook her head as she set the table. “He never wins, Shanaya. You just let him think he does.”

    Shanaya feigned offense. “Excuse me? I play fair.”

    Arin chuckled, rolling up his sleeves. “Alright, let’s settle this once and for all.”

    They set up the Scrabble board in the living room, and soon, the game was in full swing. Arin played with exaggerated confidence, throwing in words that made Shanaya groan.

    “That’s not even a word!” Shanaya protested, pointing at his latest attempt.

    Arin leaned back, feigning hurt. “It is. ‘Zenzic.’ Look it up.”

    Shanaya grabbed her phone. “If this is fake, I’m taking ten points off.”

    Astha, watching from the kitchen, chuckled. “He makes up half his words, you know.”

    Shanaya shook her head. “I’m onto you, Verma. You think you can charm your way into a win?”

    Arin grinned. “Is it working?”

    “No.”

    He sighed dramatically. “Then I guess I’ll just have to try harder.”

    As the game went on, Arin played fairly but still found ways to tease Shanaya, making sure she stayed on her toes. He let her win some rounds, just enough to keep things competitive, but his real focus was elsewhere—on Astha.

    Every time she passed by, he brushed his fingers against hers, a fleeting touch that sent shivers down her spine. When she refilled his glass, his hand lingered over hers for just a second too long. And when she bent down to grab something from the table, his gaze followed her in a way that would have made her blush if Shanaya hadn’t been sitting right there.

    Shanaya, oblivious to their secret, narrowed her eyes at them once in a while but said nothing.

    “You two are weird,” she finally muttered.

    Astha froze. “What?”

    Shanaya shrugged. “I don’t know. You just seem… different.”

    Arin smiled. “That’s because I’m losing. It’s messing with my mind.”

    Shanaya rolled her eyes. “That must be it.”


    Cooking Together

    After Scrabble, they headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Shanaya, conveniently, had a video call with her friend and excused herself, leaving Astha and Arin alone.

    The moment the door closed behind Shanaya, Arin moved closer. “Finally.”

    Astha gave him a warning glance. “Behave.”

    He grinned, sliding an arm around her waist as she reached for the ingredients. “I was behaving. You’re the one distracting me.”

    She huffed, stirring the sauce while trying to ignore the warmth of his hands on her hips. “You’re impossible.”

    “And yet, here I am.”

    She tried to focus, but he wasn’t making it easy. Every time she moved, he was there—his fingers grazing the small of her back, his lips brushing against her temple when she reached for the spices. When she turned to scold him, he caught her wrist and pulled her closer. “Arin,” she warned, but her voice lacked conviction.

    He leaned in, his lips barely an inch from hers. “Yes, wife?”

    She narrowed her eyes. “Shanaya could walk in any second.”

    He sighed dramatically, loosening his grip but not stepping away. “You’re no fun.”

    She smiled, tapping his chest with a wooden spoon. “And you’re too obvious.”

    He grinned, watching her with that familiar look that made her heart race. “You love it.”

    She sighed, turning back to the stove. “Unfortunately.”

    Arin chuckled, content for now. But he knew the night was far from over.


    Dinner and Suspicion

    When Shanaya returned, they were sitting at the table as if nothing had happened. But she wasn’t entirely convinced.

    As they ate, she observed them closely, her gaze flickering between them.

    “You two are definitely acting weird,” she said suddenly.

    Astha choked on her drink. “What?”

    Shanaya squinted at them. “I don’t know… something’s up.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe you’re just paranoid.”

    Shanaya shrugged. “Maybe.”

    But Astha could see it—the suspicion in Shanaya’s eyes. And she knew it was only a matter of time before her daughter put the pieces together.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Eight: The New Morning

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Eight: The New Morning

    Astha woke up slowly, feeling the warmth of Arin’s body curled around hers. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. She was nestled against his chest, his arms locked securely around her, as if even in sleep, he didn’t want to let go.

    She blinked, her mind catching up to the events of the night before. The tenderness, the intensity, the way he had made her feel completely and utterly his.

    A slow, satisfied sigh escaped her lips, and almost immediately, she felt him stir.

    “Mmm,” Arin murmured, tightening his hold on her. “Good morning, wife.”

    She rolled her eyes but didn’t move away. “You really need to stop calling me that.”

    He nuzzled into her hair, his voice still thick with sleep. “Not happening.”

    Astha huffed, but her lips curved into a smile. She turned slightly in his arms, meeting his drowsy, content gaze.

    “I should go,” she said softly.

    Arin lifted an eyebrow. “Or, you could stay.”

    She chuckled. “I have work. We have work.”

    He sighed dramatically, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. “I don’t see the urgency. You’ve already conquered the office with your brilliance.”

    Astha smiled. “I still have a job to do, Mr. Editor-in-Chief.”

    Arin exhaled, pulling her closer for a lingering kiss before finally loosening his grip. “Fine. But let it be known that I’m deeply against this unnecessary separation.”

    She shook her head, pushing the blanket off her and reaching for her clothes. “You’re impossible.”

    “And yet, you keep ending up in my bed,” he teased.

    Astha shot him a warning look, but her cheeks betrayed her, warming under his gaze.


    Office Tension and Stolen Moments

    By the time they reached the office, they had both switched into their professional personas, but the awareness of last night lingered between them.

    Astha had barely sat at her desk when her phone buzzed with a message.

    Arin: Did you always look this beautiful in the morning, or is it my effect on you?

    She bit her lip, shaking her head before typing back.

    Astha: Are you planning to work today, or just annoy me?

    Seconds later, another text arrived.

    Arin: Who says I can’t multitask?

    Astha rolled her eyes and was about to respond when a voice interrupted.

    “Someone’s in a good mood,” Priya from HR teased, leaning against Astha’s desk.

    Astha stiffened slightly. “What do you mean?”

    Priya smiled. “You’re smiling at your phone like a love-struck teenager.”

    Astha quickly schooled her expression. “Just reading something amusing.”

    Priya gave her a knowing look but didn’t push. “Well, whatever it is, it’s working for you. You seem… lighter these days.”

    Astha glanced toward Arin’s office, where he was now reviewing a document with a serious expression, but the moment their eyes met through the glass walls, he smiled.

    She quickly turned away, focusing on her laptop. “I have work to do, Priya.”

    Priya chuckled. “Alright, alright. Just don’t let whatever it is distract you too much.”

    Astha exhaled as Priya walked away, her heart still pounding. Keeping this a secret was going to be harder than she thought.


    A Dinner Invitation

    That evening, as they drove home, Arin glanced at her. “You know, you owe me dinner.”

    Astha frowned. “For what?”

    “For making me work so hard to keep my hands off you all day.”

    She shot him an amused glance. “Oh, poor you. The suffering must have been unbearable.”

    Arin smiled. “It really was. And to compensate, I expect a proper dinner. Tonight. Your place.”

    She raised an eyebrow. “Shanaya will be home.”

    “Good. I haven’t beaten her at Scrabble in a while.”

    Astha laughed. “You never beat her.”

    “That’s beside the point.”

    She sighed, shaking her head. “Fine. But you’re helping with the cooking.”

    Arin grinned. “Done.”

    And just like that, another evening in their tangled, chaotic, and undeniably beautiful world began.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Seven: The Walls Come Down

    The next morning, Astha walked into the office, balancing a file in one hand and her coffee in the other, determined to keep things professional. But the moment she stepped inside, she felt it—Arin’s gaze. It was subtle yet unwavering, like a constant hum in the air between them.

    She sighed and made her way to her desk, pretending she hadn’t noticed. She had barely set her things down when a familiar voice spoke beside her.

    “Morning, wife.”

    Astha nearly choked on her coffee. She turned to Arin, wide-eyed, before whispering harshly, “Arin! I told you not to say that at work.

    He grinned, completely unrepentant. “Relax. No one’s listening.”

    She gave him a glare. “Go to your office.”

    “I will,” he said, placing his hands in his pockets. “After you say good morning properly.”

    Astha sighed. “Good morning, sir.”

    Arin chuckled, shaking his head before finally walking away, leaving Astha rolling her eyes and trying to ignore the warmth creeping up her neck.


    The Unspoken Tension

    By mid-day, the office was buzzing with the usual energy, and Astha tried to focus on her work, but it wasn’t easy when Arin seemed to exist just at the edge of her awareness.

    It wasn’t just his presence—it was the way he moved, the way his eyes found hers across the newsroom, the way his fingers brushed hers when he handed her a file, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

    This was dangerous.

    She had always kept her personal life separate from her work. Always. But now, for the first time, she wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began.


    A Late-Night Drive

    By the time the office emptied out that evening, Astha found herself working late. She was the last one left when Arin appeared at her desk, leaning against the partition.

    “You’re still here?” he asked.

    She stretched, sighing. “Yes. Almost done.”

    He studied her for a moment before saying, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

    “I have my car,” she said.

    “I know,” he replied. “But I’d rather drive you home.”

    She hesitated for a second before nodding. “Fine.”

    The drive home was quiet at first, filled only with the low hum of the radio. Then, out of nowhere, Arin asked, “What are you thinking about?”

    Astha exhaled, staring out of the window. “That we’re terrible at keeping things professional.”

    Arin chuckled. “I don’t see the problem.”

    She turned to him. “Of course you don’t.”

    He smiled, then reached over to take her hand, resting their joined hands on his thigh. “Astha, we are married. Maybe not in your world, but in mine, we are bound in ways that no law can undo.”

    She glanced at their entwined fingers, her heart pounding. “I know,” she admitted softly. “But I also know that if we’re not careful, people will talk.”

    Arin exhaled. “Let them.”

    She looked at him, slightly frustrated. “You don’t get it. I don’t want people thinking I got ahead in my career because of you. I’ve worked too hard for that.”

    His expression softened. “I know.”

    “Then help me keep this under control,” she whispered.

    He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. “I will. But when we’re alone, Astha, you’re mine. And I won’t pretend otherwise.”

    She swallowed hard, her heart flipping at the intensity in his voice.

    For the first time, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to pretend either.


    A Night of Confessions

    When they reached their apartment complex, Arin turned to her with a smile. “Do you want to come to my place?”

    Astha hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.” Shanaya was with her parents tonight, and the idea of being alone in her flat didn’t seem as appealing as it usually did.

    Arin’s face lit up with delight. “Good,” he said, leading her inside. As they stepped into his apartment, he pulled her close, his lips brushing her ear. “You know, I never really had a proper wedding night in your world.”

    Astha raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Who said we’re married in this world?”

    Arin leaned in, his breath warm against her skin as he whispered, “I do.”

    She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

    He grinned, tightening his hold on her. “And yet, you’re here.”

    Astha let out a mock sigh. “Clearly, I have a thing for impossible men.”

    Arin laughed before tilting her chin up, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that left no room for arguments. The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to savor her. His hands slid down her back, pulling her flush against him, and she felt the strength of his embrace, the warmth of his body enveloping hers.

    Astha curled her fingers into his shirt, tilting her head to give him better access as his lips traced a path down her jawline, lingering at the pulse point on her neck. She let out a soft sigh, her breath hitching when he pressed a kiss against her collarbone.

    “Stay,” Arin murmured against her skin, his voice rough with longing. “Stay with me tonight.”

    She lifted her head, meeting his gaze. His eyes burned with something raw and unguarded, something that made her heart twist.

    She knew what this meant.

    And for once, she wasn’t afraid.

    Astha reached up, cupping his face, brushing her lips against his in a silent answer. “I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

    A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face before he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her toward the bedroom.

    That night, in the quiet of his world and hers, Arin finally made love to Astha with the tenderness of a man who had waited a lifetime for her. And for the first time, she let herself belong—to the moment, to him, to them.

    And just like that, she stopped resisting.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Six: A New Understanding

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Six: A New Understanding

    Astha arrived in the office. She had barely settled at her desk when a coffee cup was placed beside her. She looked up to see Arin leaning casually against her desk, smirking.

    “Your favorite,” he said, tapping the cup lightly.

    Astha narrowed her eyes. “Thank you. Now go away.”

    Arin placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “Ouch. Is this how you treat your devoted husband?”

    “Arin.” She gave him a pointed look. “We talked about this.”

    He sighed, but the amusement in his eyes didn’t fade. “Fine, fine. I’m just here as your very professional editor-in-chief.”

    She scoffed. “Good. Then act like it.”

    He leaned in slightly. “But you do love it when I bring you coffee, don’t you?”

    Astha rolled her eyes. “Yes. And I also love silence.”

    He chuckled but finally relented, heading to his own office.


    The Office Dynamic

    To everyone else, Arin and Astha seemed to maintain their usual dynamic—professional, competitive, with just the right amount of sharp banter. But beneath the surface, something had shifted.

    When he reviewed her articles, she could feel the warmth in his gaze, the way he lingered slightly when handing her notes. When they crossed paths in the hallway, there was a fleeting brush of fingers, so quick that no one else would notice. And then there were the stolen glances—silent conversations held across the newsroom, a language only they understood.

    Shanaya, of course, was the first to pick up on it.

    One evening, as Astha was typing on her laptop at home, Shanaya plopped down beside her with a knowing smirk.

    “So, you and the boss man seem to be getting along really well these days.”

    Astha didn’t even look up. “We’ve always gotten along.”

    Shanaya snorted. “Oh please. Last month, you wanted to push him off a cliff.”

    Astha smiled. “That feeling still hasn’t gone away.”

    “But now, you’d probably jump after him.”

    Astha shot her a look, but Shanaya just grinned. “Mom, you look happy. Like… actually happy. It’s weird.”

    Astha sighed, closing her laptop. “Is it that obvious?”

    Shanaya nodded. “To me? Yes. To others? Maybe not yet. But it’s only a matter of time.”

    Astha exhaled. “I just… don’t want people gossiping. And I don’t want things to change.”

    Shanaya softened. “Mom, things have already changed. Maybe it’s time to just… go with it?”

    Astha stared at her daughter for a moment, then pulled her into a side hug. “When did you get so wise?”

    Shanaya grinned. “I’ve always been wise. You just never noticed.”


    A Private Moment

    That night, Astha stepped onto her balcony for some fresh air, only to find Arin standing on his own, waiting.

    He looked up when he saw her, his expression softening. “Couldn’t sleep?”

    She shrugged. “Just needed air.”

    He leaned against the railing. “So… how did I do today? Professional enough?”

    She smiled. “Surprisingly, yes. Though the coffee stunt was unnecessary.”

    “Not a stunt,” he corrected. “Just love.”

    Astha’s heart skipped a beat. She exhaled slowly. “Arin…”

    He studied her for a moment. “You’re overthinking again.”

    She sighed. “I just… I don’t know how to do this. I’ve been alone for so long, managing everything by myself. And now you’re here, slipping into every part of my life like you belong.”

    His voice was gentle. “Maybe because I do.”

    She looked away. “I just don’t want to mess this up.”

    He stepped closer, tilting her chin up so she met his eyes. “You won’t.”

    She swallowed. “You’re awfully confident about that.”

    He smiled. “Because I know us. I know you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

    She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Then, finally, she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

    For the first time, Astha let herself believe him.


  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Five: Bonded by Fate

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Five: Bonded by Fate

    The next morning, as they met for their daily commute, Arin’s gaze lingered on Astha with unmistakable possession. As she approached, he smiled and greeted her, “Hello, wife.”

    Astha’s eyes widened, and she quickly shushed him. “Arin! Someone will hear us.”

    He chuckled, his expression far too amused for her liking. “So?”

    Rolling her eyes, she climbed into the car. The moment she settled in, she felt the warmth of his hand resting on her thigh. She glanced at him, arching a brow. “What do you think you’re doing?”

    Arin leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her ear. “At least when we’re alone, you can be my wife.”

    Astha didn’t say anything, but her pulse quickened. His touch, possessive yet gentle, sent an unfamiliar thrill through her. She looked out of the window, pretending not to notice, but Arin wasn’t letting this go.

    “You know,” he continued, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin, “I’m the happiest man in the world.”

    She turned to him, smiling but intrigued. “When did you realize you loved me?”

    Arin exhaled, his smile softening. “It wasn’t just one moment. It was every moment.” His gaze turned thoughtful. “Every time you fought me, every time you made me laugh, every time you wrote something that made my heart stop. The way you take care of your parents, the way you’re so stubborn about your independence, the way you love Shanaya more than anything in the world. Every little thing made me fall harder.”

    Astha’s throat went dry. No one had ever spoken about her like this. She was used to being admired for her work, for her intellect, but this… this was different.

    She cleared her throat, trying to push back the overwhelming emotion rising in her chest. “And here I thought you just liked arguing with me.”

    Arin chuckled, his fingers tightening around hers. “I do. I wouldn’t trade our banter for anything.”

    She hesitated before asking, “And what if I had never loved you back?”

    Arin shrugged. “I would’ve kept loving you anyway.”

    Astha swallowed, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. She turned her hand over, lacing her fingers with his. “You want to know when I fell in love with you?”

    Arin tilted his head. “I do.”

    She took a deep breath. “It started in Udaipur. When you cared for me, made sure I was okay without asking for anything in return. And then, when my mother fainted, the way you took care of my father, of Shanaya… of me.” She hesitated before admitting, “That’s when I knew.”

    Arin’s fingers tightened around hers, his expression unreadable. “And yet, you kept running.”

    Astha smiled. “Of course. You were too smug. I couldn’t let you win so easily.”

    Arin laughed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

    Astha leaned her head back against the seat, smiling to herself. “I prefer the term ‘challenging.’”

    Arin brought their joined hands to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of her palm. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

    They drove in comfortable silence for a while, but Astha’s practical side kicked in. “Arin, we need to be professional about this in the office. I don’t want people gossiping.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “You think people don’t already gossip about us?”

    She rolled her eyes. “I mean it. No unnecessary attention. No calling me ‘wife’ in the middle of meetings. No unnecessary touching at work.”

    Arin sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll behave. But only at work.”

    She eyed him suspiciously. “And outside work?”

    His smirk returned. “No promises.”

    Astha huffed, shaking her head. “Hopeless.”

    Arin leaned in just before they reached the office parking lot. “Hopelessly in love with you, Mrs. Verma.”

    She groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

    “And you love it.”

    Astha didn’t respond, but the small, hidden smile on her lips told him everything he needed to know.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Four: An Unbreakable Bond

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Four: An Unbreakable Bond

    The next morning, Astha stirred awake to the soft press of lips against her skin. She sighed, eyes fluttering open to find Arin hovering above her, his gaze warm, his touch possessive.

    “Morning, wife,” he murmured against her neck, trailing kisses up to her jawline.

    She blinked. “Wife?”

    He leaned back slightly, smirking. “Not yet. But we need to fix that today.”

    Astha arched a brow. “Excuse me?”

    Arin exhaled, his expression turning serious. “The Elders… They’re plotting something. They want to bind you to someone else in my world because of the power you hold.”

    Astha frowned. “Why would they do that?”

    “Because your sacrifice, your willingness to take the hit for me—it showed them you’re extraordinary. They think if they bind you to someone in my world, they can keep that power here and use it for their own gains.” His voice hardened. “But if you marry me, you’ll escape that fate. Marriages in my world are irrevocable.”

    Astha sat up, pulling the sheets around her. “Are you actually serious?”

    Arin nodded. “Deadly serious.”

    She studied him for a long moment. “And if I agree, will I still be able to return to my world? To my life?”

    Arin took her hands in his. “Yes. You can keep everything you love—your job, your family, Shanaya. I won’t take anything away from you.” He hesitated before adding, “But in my world, you’ll be my wife.”

    Astha let out a breath. “I love you, Arin. But I won’t lie—I don’t want to get married to you in my world. I don’t want to lose my independence or change my life for you. I don’t want to be a wife in the way the world expects.”

    Arin cupped her face, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. “I understand,” he said softly. “I won’t pressure you.”

    But deep inside, he resolved to himself that one day, he would make her want to marry him in her world too. He just had to be patient.


    The Wedding in His World

    The ceremony was unlike anything Astha had ever imagined. Arin’s world didn’t celebrate unions with grand feasts or extravagant rituals. Instead, marriage was sealed through an exchange of vows before the Elders and an ancient binding of energy—something that fused two souls together in an unbreakable connection.

    As they stood before the council, Arin took her hands in his and whispered, “No matter what happens, you’re mine.”

    Astha met his gaze. “And you’re mine.”

    The energy pulsed around them, weaving their fates together. The Elders, watching, knew there was no undoing what had just been done.

    Arin smiled as he leaned in. “Too late to back out now, Mrs. Verma.”

    Astha rolled her eyes. “I should’ve known you’d enjoy this too much.”


    Their First Night as Husband and Wife

    That night, as they lay tangled in each other’s arms, Arin’s fingers traced lazy patterns on her bare skin. He had loved her with a fervor that left her breathless, worshipping every inch of her as if making sure she knew she belonged to him now.

    Astha chuckled, still breathless. “My husband seems really crazy.”

    Arin lifted himself on one elbow, his smirk full of mischief. “You’re too late to notice it now.”

    She playfully smacked his arm, only for him to capture her wrist and pull her against him again. “Get used to it, wife.”

    Astha sighed dramatically. “If this is married life, I might survive it.”

    Arin kissed her soundly, his voice a husky whisper against her lips. “You’ll love it.”

    And as she drifted off to sleep in his arms, she wasn’t so sure he was wrong.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Three: A Storm Brewing

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Three: A Storm Brewing

    Arin couldn’t sleep.

    He had paced the length of his apartment more times than he could count, the conversation with Astha playing on repeat in his mind. Why does it bother you so much?

    He didn’t have a clear answer, but the tightness in his chest every time Raghav was around her told him it wasn’t something he could dismiss anymore.

    And Astha—she knew. That was what irked him the most. She had sensed his irritation, read between the lines, and thrown it right back at him. Figure it out, Verma.

    Damn her.

    Damn himself for not being able to.


    The Next Day: Tension in the Air

    The ride was silent. Astha was at her desk the next morning, as composed as ever. If last night’s conversation had affected her, she didn’t show it.

    Arin walked in, expecting at least a glimmer of amusement in her eyes, but she barely acknowledged him.

    Fine. Two could play this game.

    He was about to head to his office when Raghav approached Astha’s desk.

    Again?

    “Morning, Astha. Up for another field assignment this weekend?” Raghav asked casually, leaning over her desk.

    Astha glanced at the printed itinerary he handed her. “What’s this?”

    “Follow-up interviews with the artists. The head office thinks it could be a good feature series.”

    Arin’s jaw tightened. A full weekend assignment? With Raghav?

    “I’m not sure,” Astha replied. “I’ll have to check my schedule.”

    “Oh come on, it’ll be fun. You and me, road trip style.” Raghav winked.

    Arin stepped forward before he could stop himself. “Is this assignment necessary?” His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

    Raghav turned to him, surprised. “The head office suggested it.”

    “Then I’d like to review the necessity of sending two senior journalists on an extended trip for a story that could easily be covered remotely.” Arin’s tone was clipped.

    Astha shot him a sharp look. “We haven’t even discussed this yet, Verma.”

    “I’m discussing it now.”

    Raghav chuckled. “Boss, are you concerned about our productivity or something else?”

    Arin’s gaze snapped to Raghav’s, unblinking. “My concern is making sure resources are utilized efficiently.”

    Astha stood up, pushing her chair back. “Enough.”

    The command in her voice made both men pause.

    She exhaled, looking directly at Arin. “If you have a problem, say it outright. Stop making it about work.”

    Arin clenched his fists at his sides. He couldn’t say it. Not here. Not now.

    Instead, he turned to Raghav. “You’ll receive my decision by the end of the day.”

    Without another word, he strode back to his office, leaving a thick silence in his wake.


    The Balcony Showdown

    That evening, Astha was on her balcony when she spotted Arin leaning against his own railing, a storm brewing in his eyes.

    She sighed. “Are you going to keep this up?”

    Arin’s jaw clenched. “You could’ve said no.”

    Astha scoffed. “Are you hearing yourself? Since when do I need to run my assignments by you?”

    “You don’t,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

    She crossed her arms. “So, what is this, Verma? You don’t like it when Raghav talks to me. You don’t like it when I laugh at his jokes. And now, you don’t want me working with him either? What’s next—banning me from speaking to male colleagues?”

    His silence spoke louder than words.

    Astha’s brows lifted. “Oh my god. You are jealous.”

    Arin exhaled through his nose. “I don’t get jealous.”

    She smiled. “Then what is this, Verma? Workplace efficiency?”

    He took a step closer, his voice lower, more intense. “I don’t trust him.”

    Astha scoffed. “Oh please. He’s harmless.”

    Arin tilted his head, gaze unwavering. “And what if he isn’t?”

    She frowned. “Arin, you don’t get to decide who I trust.”

    He let out a humorless laugh. “It’s not about trust, Astha. It’s about the fact that the thought of you going away with him bothers me. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

    Silence stretched between them.

    For the first time, Astha saw something in his eyes she hadn’t before. Vulnerability.

    She swallowed. “You could start by admitting it.”

    Arin didn’t answer. He just stared at her, as if trying to read something beyond the words she had spoken.

    Then, without another word, he turned and walked back into his apartment, leaving Astha standing there, her heart pounding.

    She had won the argument.

    But why did it feel like she had lost something far greater?

    The Discovery

    The next evening, after a particularly long day at the office, Astha was on her way to her apartment when she noticed something strange—Arin’s door was open.

    That was odd. Arin was never careless. Curious, she stepped inside.

    “Arin?” she called out.

    There was no answer.

    Then she saw it.

    A dim, pulsating light hovering in front of Arin. Before she could make sense of it, the light disappeared into nothingness, vanishing as if it had never been there.

    She blinked, her heart racing. “What the hell was that?”

    Arin turned sharply, startled by her presence. A flicker of something—guilt? hesitation?—passed over his face. But he didn’t deny what she had seen.

    “Astha…”

    She folded her arms. “No, don’t Astha me. What did I just see?”

    Arin exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He knew this moment would come eventually. He had just hoped it wouldn’t be now.

    “Astha,” he said slowly, “I need you to listen carefully.”

    “I’m listening.”

    He hesitated for only a second before he looked straight into her eyes and recited:

    “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?”

    Astha inhaled sharply. “That’s my poem.”

    “That’s what brought me here.”

    She frowned, confused. “What?”

    “I’m not from this time.”

    Astha let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, come on, Arin. Is this some elaborate joke?”

    “I wish it was.”

    She studied him carefully. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something ancient, something vast. A shiver ran down her spine.

    “If you’re really from another world,” she said, crossing her arms, “prove it. Take me there.”

    Arin stiffened. “No.”

    ===“No?”

    “It’s dangerous.”

    Astha scoffed. “I can handle it.”

    “Astha.” His voice was lower now, urgent. “You don’t understand. My world isn’t like yours. You don’t belong there.”

    She lifted her chin. “Then prove it.”

    Arin closed his eyes briefly before exhaling sharply. He knew she wouldn’t back down.

    “Fine,” he said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

    He stepped toward her, reaching out, and before she could react, the world around them shifted.


    A World Beyond Time

    When Astha opened her eyes, she knew, in an instant, that this wasn’t Earth.

    The sky above them shimmered in hues she had never seen before—silvers and deep violets swirling together like liquid metal. The ground beneath them pulsed softly, as though the very fabric of reality breathed beneath her feet. The air itself was different—crisper, charged with an energy she could feel humming against her skin.

    She turned to Arin, speechless.

    “You were telling the truth,” she whispered.

    “I told you it was dangerous.”

    Before she could respond, figures emerged from the shadows—tall, imposing beings dressed in deep blue robes. Their gazes were cold, knowing. The Elders.

    One of them stepped forward. “Arin Verma,” the Elder intoned. “You were on an observation mission.” His gaze flickered to Astha. “Explain the presence of this stranger.”

    Arin’s grip on her wrist tightened. “She is not a stranger.”

    The Elder’s expression darkened. “You have broken the code.”

    “I have not. I love this woman,” Arin said, his voice steady.

    A murmur spread among the Elders.

    One of them stepped forward. “Lies,” he said coldly. “You told us you were merely observing. This is deception.”

    Arin’s jaw clenched. “It’s the truth.”

    The Elder lifted his hand, and suddenly, a crackling energy formed around his palm. “Then you must pay the price.”

    Before Arin could react, the energy bolt shot toward him. But in the blink of an eye, Astha moved—

    Right into its path.

    The energy struck her, and she collapsed.

    Arin caught her before she hit the ground. “Astha!” His voice was raw, desperate.

    She smiled weakly, her body trembling. “I love you too, Verma.”

    Arin held her tightly, his eyes blazing with fury as he looked up at the Elders. “You will fix this.”

    The Elders stared, stunned. One of them whispered, “She sacrificed herself… for a Time Keeper?”

    Another murmured, “Unheard of…”

    One of the Elders stepped forward. “We can restore her. But only if she stays.”

    Astha, though in pain, let out a weak laugh. “I’d rather die.”

    The Elder’s gaze flickered with something unreadable before he sighed. “Very well, we shall revive her. “

    A glow surrounded Astha, and she gasped, her pain easing, her body strengthening. She was alive.

    “Take her home, Arin Verma.”


    A Love Confessed

    The moment they stepped back into Astha’s apartment, Arin snapped.

    Without warning, he pulled her into his arms, crushing his lips against hers. It wasn’t gentle. It was desperate, raw, claiming.

    She gasped against his mouth but didn’t pull away. Instead, she melted into him, her hands clutching his shirt.

    When they finally broke apart, Arin cupped her face, his breath ragged. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

    Astha blinked. “Tell you what?”

    “That you love me.”

    Her throat tightened. “I—”

    “say it again. Tell me that you love me!”

    “I love you Arin.”

    “You almost died, Astha.” His voice was rough. “Do you even understand what that did to me?”

    She swallowed. “I didn’t realize it until that moment. When they tried to kill you, I knew—I couldn’t live in a world without you.”

    Arin let out a shaky breath before pulling her into another fierce embrace. “Then don’t.”

    That night, in the quiet of his world, Arin finally made her his. Not just in words, but in the way he touched her, in the way he worshipped her, in the way he loved her.

    And for the first time, Astha didn’t resist.

    She belonged to him.


  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Two: The Fire Beneath The Surface

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Two: The Fire Beneath The Surface

    The next morning, Arin drove Astha to the office in silence. He parked the car and without a word, walked away. He walked into the office, his mind still clouded with thoughts from the night before. He prided himself on being rational, never letting emotions interfere with his decisions. But something about Raghav Malhotra being around Astha made his blood simmer in ways he couldn’t understand—or perhaps, ways he didn’t want to understand.

    When he reached his office, he saw Astha already at her desk, sipping her tea, engrossed in something on her screen. He walked past her, but as if sensing his presence, she looked up and smiled.

    “Good morning, Verma. Slept well?” she teased, clearly enjoying herself.

    Arin didn’t take the bait. “Perfectly,” he replied coolly, stepping into his cabin.

    But the universe wasn’t done testing him yet.

    Minutes later, Raghav appeared at Astha’s desk, leaning over it with an easy confidence that grated on Arin’s nerves.

    “I was telling Astha how our interview with the artists went yesterday. The way she connects with people is incredible,” Raghav said casually, giving Astha a grin that Arin found entirely unnecessary.

    Astha chuckled. “Oh, please. I just did my job. You’re the one who kept them entertained.”

    “I aim to please,” Raghav said smoothly.

    Arin felt something snap inside him. Before he realized what he was doing, he stepped out of his cabin.

    “Malhotra,” Arin said, his voice deceptively polite. “I assume the interview report is ready?”

    Raghav straightened, sensing the underlying tone in Arin’s words. “Yes, just putting the finishing touches on it.”

    “Good. I want it on my desk in an hour.” Arin’s gaze flickered briefly to Astha, then back to Raghav. “And Malhotra?”

    “Yes?”

    Arin’s smile was sharp. “Let’s try to keep our workplace discussions about work.”

    Astha shot him a glare, but Raghav only nodded. “Of course, sir.”

    As Raghav walked off, Astha turned to Arin, folding her arms. “Seriously?”

    “What?” he asked, feigning innocence.

    “You know what.”

    Arin shrugged. “Just doing my job.”

    Astha huffed. “Right. Your job.”

    Before she could say anything else, she grabbed her notepad and walked off, leaving Arin standing there, feeling something dangerously close to satisfaction.


    A Conversation That Changes Everything

    That evening, as they drove home, the silence in the car was thick. Astha was uncharacteristically quiet, staring out the window. Finally, she spoke.

    “You don’t like Raghav, do you?”

    Arin kept his eyes on the road. “Does it matter?”

    “Yes,” she said. “Because you’re acting like an overgrown territorial—” She cut herself off and sighed. “Look, I get it. He’s new, he’s confident, but he’s just my colleague, Arin.”

    Arin’s grip tightened on the wheel. “He’s interested in you.”

    Astha turned to him, eyebrows raised. “And what if he is?”

    His jaw clenched. “Then he’s wasting his time.”

    Silence. A heavy, charged silence. Astha studied him for a moment before speaking again, her voice softer this time.

    “Why does it bother you so much?”

    Arin exhaled slowly. He had no answer. Or rather, he had too many answers, and none of them were ones he was ready to voice.

    Astha didn’t push him for one. Instead, she leaned back in her seat and whispered, “Figure it out, Verma.”

    As they reached their apartment complex, she stepped out of the car without another word, leaving Arin staring after her, knowing that she had just issued a challenge he could no longer ignore.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty One: The First Signs of Possession

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty One: The First Signs of Possession

    Raghav Malhotra was charming, quick-witted, and unashamedly flirtatious. Arin disliked him immediately.

    At first, he dismissed it as professional disinterest—he didn’t care what kind of man Raghav was. But the irritation began to simmer the first time he saw Astha laughing at Raghav’s jokes.

    Then came the assignment.

    Astha and Raghav were tasked with covering a feature on local artists, requiring them to spend a full day outside the office, interviewing and documenting their subjects.

    Arin didn’t like it.

    He told himself he was being unreasonable. Astha was a grown woman; she had worked with other male colleagues before. And yet, when she left that morning with Raghav, a gnawing frustration settled deep within him.

    That night, as he leaned against his balcony, waiting, he told himself he wasn’t waiting—he was simply outside for fresh air.

    Then he saw her return.

    Her hair was slightly tousled, her eyes bright, and there was an easy smile on her face as she took off her sandals and stretched.

    “Had fun?” Arin asked, his voice carrying through the night air.

    Astha looked up, startled, before smiling. “Oh, you’re still awake?”

    He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

    She leaned against the balcony railing. “It was good. Raghav is a funny guy with an amazing sense of humor.”

    Something in Arin’s jaw tightened. “I see.”

    She raised an eyebrow. “What’s with that tone?”

    “Nothing.”

    Astha smiled. “Are you jealous, Verma?”

    Arin met her gaze, his expression unreadable. “I don’t get jealous.”

    Astha chuckled. “Right.”

    But the conversation stayed with Arin long after she had gone inside. Because for the first time, he questioned whether that was really true.

  • THE TIMEKEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty: A Home for Him

    THE TIMEKEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty: A Home for Him

    A week later, the Mehra household had regained its warmth and rhythm. Arin, much to Astha’s irritation—and mild amusement—had become a fixture in their home. He self-invited himself to dinners, played carrom with her father, mentored Shanaya in her subjects, and even placed coffee on Astha’s desk when she looked exhausted, saying nothing but smirking at her reaction.

    One evening, Shanaya plopped onto the couch and grinned mischievously. “Alright, it’s time for a real match. Arin versus Mom. No alliances. Just pure battle.”

    Astha narrowed her eyes. “And what role do you play in this ‘battle’?”

    Shanaya shrugged. “The commentator, obviously.”

    Arin smiled. “I accept.”

    The game began, and with every move, there was a memory.

    Astha placed ‘Mirth’ on a double word score. “Like the way you smirk whenever you put coffee on my desk, Verma.”

    Arin chuckled and placed ‘Retort’. “Like how you never fail to have one, Mehra.”

    Shanaya clapped. “This is better than TV.”

    Astha laid down ‘Fiasco’. “Like your last attempt at cooking in our kitchen. I’m still recovering from that disaster.”

    Arin smiled. “You didn’t have to eat it.” He placed ‘Redeem’. “And yet, I saved you from writing that atrocious lead paragraph last week, didn’t I?”

    Astha huffed. “It was fine.”

    “Debatable.”

    The match continued, filled with their usual banter. Astha’s parents watched with amusement, exchanging knowing glances. Shanaya provided commentary, dramatically gasping whenever one of them pulled off a particularly good move.

    As the final scores tallied, Astha won by a mere four points.

    Arin leaned back, arms crossed. “I demand a rematch.”

    Astha smiled. “In your dreams, Verma.”

    As the night wound down, Astha caught herself watching Arin laugh with her family, his presence so seamlessly woven into their lives. The thought hit her suddenly—

    Somewhere along the way, Arin had stopped being an outsider.

    He was home.

    And that terrified her.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Nine: Something Real

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Nine: Something Real

    Morning light streamed through the hospital’s tinted windows, casting a soft glow over the waiting area. Astha stirred, shifting slightly before her eyes fluttered open. A familiar warmth rested over her shoulders. She blinked, looking down to find a blanket draped around her.

    Arin’s doing.

    She turned her head and found him sitting beside her, his eyes closed, his posture relaxed but alert even in rest. He had stayed.

    Astha swallowed, something tugging at her chest, but she quickly shook it off. Carefully, she adjusted the blanket and sat up, stretching. The quiet hum of hospital activity around her signaled the start of a new day.

    Moments later, a nurse approached. “Mrs. Mehra is being discharged. The doctor has cleared her to go home.”

    Relief flooded Astha, and she nodded. “Thank you.”

    She turned to Arin, who was now watching her, fully awake. “She’s being discharged,” she said softly.

    Arin nodded. “I’ll get the car.”

    Astha opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes told her it was pointless. He wasn’t going to leave her alone.


    The Drive Home

    The car ride was quiet, with only the soft hum of the engine filling the space between them. Astha sat in the back with her mother, keeping a hand on hers, while Arin focused on the road.

    Every few minutes, his gaze flickered to the rearview mirror, checking on them. He didn’t say much, but Astha didn’t need him to. His presence was enough.

    When they reached home, Astha’s father and Shanaya were already waiting at the doorstep. The moment the car stopped, Shanaya ran forward, her eyes shining with relief as she hugged her grandmother.

    Astha’s father embraced his wife gently, murmuring reassurances, before turning to Arin. Without hesitation, he pulled him into a warm hug.

    “Thank you, beta,” her father said, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

    Arin, momentarily taken aback, patted his back. “It’s nothing, Uncle.”

    Astha stood beside them, watching the exchange with a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite name. Her father had always been reserved with strangers, but with Arin, it was as if he had known him for years.

    Her mother was settled into bed with Shanaya fussing over her, making sure she was comfortable. Astha’s father lingered in the room for a while, before finally nodding in satisfaction and stepping out.

    Astha turned to Arin, hands on her hips. “You should go home and rest. You’ve done enough.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “You’re kicking me out now?”

    “Yes,” she said firmly. “You have work, and so do I.”

    He studied her for a moment before smirking. “Alright, Mehra. But if you need anything, call me.”

    “I won’t.”

    “You will.”

    She rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest refused to fade as she watched him leave.

    Once the door shut behind him, Astha exhaled and ran a hand through her hair. She walked into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water, but her mind wasn’t on the task. Instead, her thoughts wandered back to Arin.

    The way he had stayed. The way he had silently comforted her when she cried. The way he had made her smile despite the exhaustion weighing her down.

    She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

    Then, shaking her head, she muttered to herself, “Keep personal and professional separate, Astha.”

    Her heart, however, wasn’t so sure.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Eight: Unfinished Conversations

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Eight: Unfinished Conversations

    The soft ripple of water and the distant hum of the last lingering voices surrounded them. Arin sat still, watching Astha as she absentmindedly ran her fingers over the edge of the stone bench. The flickering lanterns from the lakeside restaurant cast long shadows, painting the moment in quiet intimacy.

    Astha exhaled, leaning back against the bench. “You keep saying that, Verma.”

    “Saying what?”

    “That I should let people see this side of me.” She tilted her head, looking at him. “Why does it matter to you?”

    Arin didn’t answer immediately. His fingers curled around the edge of the bench, his gaze fixed on the water.

    “Because,” he finally said, “I think you don’t let people in, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re afraid that if you do, they’ll expect too much. That they’ll want parts of you that you’re not willing to give anymore.”

    Astha froze slightly, the ease in her expression faltering.

    Arin turned to her, his voice softer. “Am I wrong?”

    She inhaled sharply and let out a humorless chuckle. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

    He smiled. “Nope.”

    She shook her head, staring at the lake. “You’re not wrong,” she admitted after a pause. “I’ve spent years making sure I keep my world in balance. My daughter, my parents, my work… There’s no space for anything else. And even if there was…” She trailed off.

    Arin waited. “Even if there was?”

    Astha let out a slow breath. “I don’t think I know how to let someone in anymore.”

    Silence stretched between them. Not the uncomfortable kind, but the kind that carried weight. Understanding.

    Arin exhaled, leaning back. “It’s not something you have to know how to do. It just happens.”

    Astha scoffed. “Oh, so wise now?”

    He grinned. “Always.”

    She nudged his arm with her elbow. “Annoying, more like.”

    Arin chuckled, shaking his head.


    A Late-Night Walk and a Moment of Clarity

    They started walking back toward the guesthouse. The streets were quieter now, the city slipping into sleep. Astha wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the cool night air against her skin.

    Arin noticed and instinctively shrugged off his light jacket. Without a word, he draped it over her shoulders.

    Astha blinked in surprise. “You didn’t have to do that.”

    Arin smiled. “I know. But you’re shivering, and I don’t feel like listening to you complain about how cold it was tomorrow.”

    She rolled her eyes but pulled the jacket tighter around herself. “Efficient as always, Mr. Editor.”

    “Someone has to be,” he teased.

    They continued walking, their steps in sync.

    Then, out of nowhere, Astha spoke. “You know, this was never supposed to happen.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “What wasn’t?”

    “This. Us. Whatever this is.”

    He stopped walking. “And what is this?”

    Astha hesitated. “I don’t know.”

    Arin studied her for a long moment. “Do you want to know?”

    She let out a nervous laugh. “No. That’s the problem.”

    Arin exhaled. He understood what she was saying—what she wasn’t saying. Astha had spent years building walls, keeping herself safe in the predictability of her life. And here he was, shaking those foundations without even trying.

    “I won’t push you,” he said finally. “But I’m not going to pretend that something’s not happening between us.”

    Astha looked at him then, her guarded expression softening just slightly. “I know.”

    And that was enough. For now.


    The Unwelcome Surprise

    They reached the guesthouse, and just as Astha was about to push open the door, her phone buzzed.

    She pulled it out, frowning at the name on the screen. “It’s my dad.”

    Arin watched as her expression changed from mild curiosity to concern as she answered.

    “Hello? Papa?”

    A pause. Then, “What? What happened?”

    Arin immediately straightened.

    Astha pressed a hand to her forehead. “I—okay, I’ll be there. I’ll take the next bus back.”

    Arin didn’t wait for her to explain. “What’s wrong?”

    She pocketed her phone, her face unreadable. “My mom fainted at home. She’s conscious now, but they’re taking her to the hospital for tests. I need to go back.”

    Arin nodded. “I’m coming with you.”

    Astha opened her mouth, ready to protest, but the look in his eyes told her there was no point.

    She exhaled. “Fine. But if you start acting all protective and hovering, I will throw you off the bus.”

    Arin smiled. “Noted.”


    The Journey Home

    They boarded a late-night bus back to their city, the urgency of the situation keeping both of them alert despite the exhaustion settling in. Astha sat by the window, staring out into the darkness, her fingers tapping restlessly against her knee.

    Arin reached out, covering her hand with his.

    Astha turned to look at him.

    “She’ll be okay,” he said quietly.

    Astha didn’t speak for a moment. Then, her fingers curled slightly beneath his.

    It wasn’t much.

    But it was enough.

    The Arrival and the Hospital Visit

    When they reached the hospital, Astha saw her father standing by the waiting area. The exhaustion in his eyes was clear, but he managed a small, reassuring smile.

    Shanaya ran up to Astha and hugged her tightly. Astha could feel her daughter trembling slightly and, when she pulled back, saw the redness in her eyes.

    Astha gently wiped Shanaya’s tears away. “She’s going to be fine, sweetheart. But right now, I need you to be strong. For Grandma. For Grandpa.”

    Shanaya sniffled but nodded, determination settling into her features. “I will, Mom.”

    Astha turned to her father. “You and Shanaya should go home. Get some rest. I’ll stay here and bring Mom home when she’s ready.”

    Her father hesitated but finally nodded. Shanaya hugged her once more before leaving with him.

    “I’ll stay too,” Arin said simply.

    Astha turned to him, frowning. “No, you don’t have to. It’s late, and you’ve already done enough.”

    Arin crossed his arms. “You’re right. I don’t have to. But I want to.”

    She sighed but didn’t argue further. As she sat in the chair, Arin could see the way she was trying to mask her worries.

    “I’ll get you some coffee,” he said, before walking off.

    When he returned, he found Astha sitting with her hands covering her face, silent tears slipping through her fingers.

    Without a word, he sat beside her. “I’m here,” he said softly.

    She kept crying, leaning slightly toward him, until she realized—too late—that her tears had soaked his shirt. She pulled away, embarrassed. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

    Arin smiled. “I’m honored to be your personal tissue, Mehra.”

    Despite herself, Astha let out a watery chuckle. “You’re impossible.”

    Arin took a napkin and gently wiped the stray tears off her cheek. As he did, something shifted inside him. He knew, in that moment, that he couldn’t just leave her. Not now. Not ever.

    “Drink your coffee,” he said gently, placing the cup in her hands. “You need it.”

    Astha took a sip, then exhaled. “You should go home, Arin. You have work tomorrow.”

    “I’ll manage,” he said firmly. “Now, relax.”

    She stared at him for a moment before finally giving up. Curling up on the seat, she rested her head against the armrest, exhaustion finally taking over. Within minutes, she had fallen asleep.

    Arin watched her, his expression unreadable. Something about seeing her like this—so unguarded, so vulnerable—made something shift inside him. He had never cared about staying in one place before, but now, looking at Astha, he realized something undeniable.

    He wanted to stay.

    And he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Seven: Unspoken Realizations

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Seven: Unspoken Realizations

    The next morning, the city of Udaipur awoke in soft hues of gold and amber. Arin and Astha met at the small courtyard of their guesthouse for breakfast. The late-night conversation still lingered in the air between them, an unspoken thread connecting them in a way neither wanted to acknowledge just yet.

    Astha stirred her chai absentmindedly, her usual sharp banter missing. Arin, observant as always, noticed.

    “You’re quieter than usual,” he remarked, sipping his own tea.

    Astha raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I thought you’d enjoy a little peace and quiet after last night’s deep life discussions.”

    Arin smiled. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mehra. I’m just wondering if you’re plotting your next reckless stunt.”

    She rolled her eyes. “Please. Today is strictly work. No chaos, no bus roofs, no lake monsters.”

    Arin feigned disappointment. “Shame. I was starting to enjoy the unpredictability.”

    Astha shook her head, but there was a smile tugging at her lips.


    A Day of Work and an Unexpected Invitation

    The morning was spent finalizing their article, going over notes from their interviews. As much as Astha enjoyed fieldwork, she had to admit—Arin had a meticulous way of polishing details that made the final story even sharper.

    “You’re annoyingly good at this,” she muttered, reviewing the latest draft.

    Arin smiled. “I’m going to pretend that’s a compliment.”

    Before she could respond, a knock on the door interrupted them. A young local journalist they had met earlier entered, smiling brightly.

    “Astha, Arin,” he greeted. “A few of us are heading to a friend’s place for an evening gathering by the lake. Lots of music, food, and good company. You should come.”

    Astha hesitated. “I don’t know—”

    “Sounds interesting,” Arin cut in smoothly. He turned to Astha. “Come on, Mehra. We promised no chaos, but a casual evening won’t hurt.”

    She narrowed her eyes. “You just want to see how I behave in social settings, don’t you?”

    Arin grinned. “Absolutely.”

    She sighed. “Fine. But if I regret this, I’m blaming you.”

    Arin raised his chai cup in a mock toast. “Noted.”


    An Evening by the Lake

    By sunset, they arrived at a beautifully lit open-air setup near the lake. String lights hung between trees, reflecting in the still waters. A group of local musicians played traditional Rajasthani folk music, their voices blending with the warm night breeze.

    Astha, dressed in a simple cotton kurta and jeans, looked effortlessly at home among the crowd. She slipped easily into conversations, laughing, listening, debating. Arin watched her from the side, sipping his drink, taking in how different she was outside the confines of the newsroom.

    “You’re staring,” she murmured, nudging him with her elbow.

    Arin didn’t even try to deny it. “Just analyzing.”

    “Analyzing what, exactly?”

    “How someone who keeps everyone at arm’s length in the office fits so effortlessly in a place like this,” he said, tilting his head.

    Astha glanced at the glowing lake. “Maybe because I don’t have to prove anything here.”

    Arin studied her for a moment. “You don’t have to prove anything at work either.”

    She huffed a laugh. “Says the man who keeps pushing me to write better.”

    Arin smiled. “That’s not proving something. That’s just me knowing you can do more than you allow yourself to.”

    Astha looked at him then, something unreadable in her gaze. “You’re dangerous, Verma.”

    He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

    “Because you see too much.”

    Arin chuckled. “And yet, you still let me sit next to you at these things.”

    Astha shook her head, sipping her drink. “Maybe I’m just waiting for you to stop analyzing and start enjoying the moment.”

    Arin leaned back, watching the flickering lanterns on the water. “Maybe I already am.”


    A Walk by the Lake

    As the evening winded down, people slowly began to leave. Arin and Astha took a quiet walk along the lake, the gentle waves lapping against the shore.

    “You haven’t regretted coming yet, have you?” Arin asked.

    Astha smiled. “I’ll let you know once I see if I can survive the next few minutes without you dragging me into more philosophical conversations.”

    He chuckled. “I make no promises.”

    They walked in silence for a moment before Astha exhaled. “You know, this trip has been… different.”

    Arin glanced at her. “Different how?”

    She shrugged. “I’m used to keeping my work life and personal life separate. This… blurs the lines a little.”

    Arin nodded. “Maybe blurring the lines isn’t always a bad thing.”

    Astha gave him a look. “For you, maybe. But I have a teenage daughter, protective parents, and a job that keeps me grounded. I don’t have the luxury of just… being reckless all the time.”

    Arin’s gaze softened. “But sometimes, you want to be.”

    She exhaled a quiet laugh. “Maybe.”

    They reached a small stone bench near the water. Arin sat down, and after a moment’s hesitation, Astha joined him. The night stretched on in comfortable silence.

    Then, in a softer voice, Arin said, “You should let more people see this side of you.”

    Astha turned to him. “Why?”

    “Because it’s real,” he said simply. “And it’s worth knowing.”

    Astha held his gaze, something shifting in the space between them.

    And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t try to run from it.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Six: The Unseen Trouble

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Six: The Unseen Trouble

    The boat ride was peaceful, the kind of night that seemed frozen in time. The lake shimmered under the moonlight, and the occasional flicker of lanterns from the distant palaces added a golden hue to the water’s surface.

    Astha leaned back slightly, letting the cool air kiss her face. “You know, I have to say, Verma, you’re handling this trip pretty well. I half-expected you to demand a five-star conference room for our interviews.”

    Arin smiled, resting his arm casually on the side of the boat. “Well, I was going to, but then I got distracted by all the bus roofs and stolen guavas.”

    Astha chuckled. “See? Chaos suits you.”

    “Or maybe,” Arin said, studying her, “you just make chaos look appealing.”

    She turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze. For a moment, there was something there—something neither of them wanted to name. But before either of them could say another word—

    The boat jerked.

    Astha let out a small yelp as she grabbed onto the side for balance. Arin’s reflexes were quicker—he reached out instinctively, his hand gripping her wrist before she could tip forward.

    “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice lower, more serious.

    Astha let out a breath. “Yeah. But that wasn’t normal.”

    The boatman frowned, adjusting his oar. “Something’s caught on the rudder. Hold on.”

    Arin still hadn’t let go of her wrist. Astha noticed but didn’t say anything. Instead, without realizing it, she leaned slightly into his presence, as if seeking reassurance.

    A moment later, a loud splash sounded behind them. Then another.

    Astha tensed. “Okay, Verma. Time to admit that this isn’t part of my ‘chaotic adventure plan.’”

    “Duly noted,” he muttered.

    Then, without warning, something hit the boat from underneath. Hard.

    Astha lost her balance completely, toppling forward. But before she could fall, Arin caught her—both arms securing her against his chest as the boat rocked violently.

    The boatman cursed under his breath, struggling to steady them. “We need to turn back—something isn’t right.”

    Arin’s grip on her tightened instinctively. “Stay close,” he murmured.

    Astha nodded, her fingers curling lightly around his forearm. Normally, she would have made a joke, something to deflect. But at that moment, she didn’t.

    Another thud from beneath.

    The boatman didn’t wait for another warning—he began rowing back toward the dock as fast as he could.

    Astha exhaled shakily. “I don’t know what the hell that was, but I’m officially putting boat rides on my banned activities list.”

    Arin, still holding onto her, leaned back slightly. “Noted. Also, for the record, I told you cars were the better option.”

    Astha rolled her eyes. “If you say ‘I told you so’ one more time, I’ll personally throw you into the lake.”

    Arin smiled. “Noted.”


    Back on Land

    When they reached the dock, the boatman was still shaken.

    “I’ve been doing this for years,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Never seen anything like that.”

    Astha glanced at Arin, a silent question in her eyes. He said nothing, but his jaw was tight, as if he was thinking too much.

    “Let’s go,” he finally said. “I don’t think either of us wants to linger here tonight.”

    Astha nodded, and without another word, they walked back toward their guesthouse.


    The Late-Night Conversation

    That night, when a knock sounded at her door, Astha wasn’t surprised to find Arin standing there.

    “I can’t sleep,” he admitted.

    Astha smiled. “The mighty Arin Verma can’t sleep? What, did the lake monster give you nightmares?”

    He gave her an unimpressed look. “I just… wanted to check if you’re okay.”

    Astha studied him for a moment before stepping aside. “Come in, then. But if you start lecturing me about my life choices, I’m kicking you out.”

    He smiled. “Noted.”

    As he sat on the chair by the window, he asked, “Does anyone at the office know this side of you?”

    Astha raised an eyebrow. “What side?”

    “The side that sits on top of buses, steals fruit, and nearly gets swallowed by lakes,” he said, amusement laced in his voice.

    Astha shrugged. “Not really. At work, I’m just a journalist. No one really cares about my adventurous streak.”

    Arin tilted his head. “I do.”

    Astha paused at that. She opened her mouth to say something but then closed it. Instead, she smiled faintly. “Good to know, Verma.”

    Arin leaned forward slightly. “Why are you so reserved in the office? You’re a fun person to be with.”

    Astha let out a small laugh. “Office is different. Work is work. If you’re too friendly, people stop taking you seriously. And sometimes, it’s easier to keep a distance than to deal with unnecessary drama.”

    Arin watched her carefully. “But that’s not who you really are.”

    She shrugged, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Maybe. But we all have different sides, don’t we?”

    Arin held her gaze for a moment longer before exhaling. “Get some sleep, Mehra.”

    As he left, Astha lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t know why his words affected her so much. But one thing was certain—this trip was changing something between them.

    And she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Five: The Midnight Boat Ride

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Five: The Midnight Boat Ride

    After finishing their interview, Astha stretched and checked her watch. “Alright, Verma. The work part of the trip is officially over.”

    Arin eyed her suspiciously. “Why do I feel like you’re about to drag me into something questionable?”

    Astha grinned. “Because you, my dear editor, are finally going to see Udaipur the way it’s meant to be seen.”

    He sighed. “Which means?”

    “Which means,” she said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along, “you’re going on a midnight boat ride.”

    Arin frowned but let her lead him toward the lakeside. “You do realize I don’t do impulsive tourist things?”

    Astha rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’re about to.”

    The night air was crisp, and the city shimmered in reflection over Lake Pichola. The boat swayed gently as Astha leaned over the railing, looking out at the illuminated palaces across the water.

    Arin sat beside her, watching instead her instead of the view.

    “You do this often?” he asked.

    “Whenever I need to remind myself that life is more than just work and responsibilities,” she admitted. “The world keeps moving, but sometimes, you just need to stop and breathe.”

    Arin tilted his head, considering her words. “That’s… surprisingly wise.”

    Astha smiled. “I have my moments.”

    For a moment, there was only silence, the soft lapping of water against the boat filling the space between them.

    Then Astha turned to him, grinning mischievously. “So, Verma, admit it. This whole trip? Not the worst experience of your life.”

    Arin exhaled, shaking his head. “Fine. Not the worst.”

    She gasped dramatically. “A compliment? From you? I must be dreaming!”

    Arin smiled. “Don’t get used to it.”

    Astha laughed, and as the boat drifted further into the lake, Arin realized something unsettling.

    For the first time in a long time, he didn’t mind not knowing what came next.

    And that was terrifying.