Laal Ishq

Kar bhi do vote bhai log
Or lage haath follow bhi kar lo🙏
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Kar diya!!!!
Ab padhiye aaram se ❤🐭

The night had settled over the city as Mannat remained immersed in her work at the bakery. The warm aroma of freshly baked goods filled the air, and the rhythmic sound of her movements helped her focus. The clock ticked past 9 PM, but she was too engrossed to notice.

Mrs. Kapoor, the bakery owner, walked in from the front entrance, carrying some bags. She paused when she saw Mannat still working diligently.

"Arrey, beta, tumhe jaana nahi hai?" Mrs. Kapoor asked, her tone laced with concern.
(You don't have to go?)

Mannat snapped out of her work trance, quickly realizing how late it had become. "Oh, mujhe maloom hi nahi chala. Sorry!" she replied, flustered as she started packing up her things.
(Oh I am sorry I didn't even realise the time)

Mrs. Kapoor smiled warmly. "Koi baat nahi, beta. Tum aaram se ghar jao, aur pahunch ke mujhe call kar lena, theek hai?"
(It's okay , go home safely when you reach your home call me okay)

Mannat nodded, grabbing her bag and heading out of the bakery. "Ji, ma’am. Goodnight!"

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The city streets were bustling, even at this hour. Mannat hailed an auto-rickshaw and sank into the seat, eager to get home. However, her journey was interrupted when the vehicle came to a standstill in the middle of a traffic jam.

She checked her watch anxiously as the minutes dragged on. After nearly 20 minutes, the jam showed no signs of clearing. Frustrated, she paid the driver, got out, and decided to take a shortcut through a nearby alley.

The alley was dimly lit, with flickering streetlights casting eerie shadows. Mannat quickened her pace, clutching her bag tightly. She was halfway through when she heard the unmistakable sound of male laughter behind her.

"Arrey, madam, kahan ja rahi ho itni jaldi?" one of the men called out, his voice slurred with alcohol.(Hey, madam, where are you going in such a hurry?)

Mannat’s heart raced as she glanced back to see three drunkards leering at her. She picked up her pace, ignoring their jeers and catcalls.

"Arrey ruk na, baat toh sun!" another one shouted, stepping closer.(Hey, stop, at least listen!)

Just as one of them tried to block her path, an elderly couple appeared at the other end of the alley. The man, tall and imposing, shouted, "Kya kar rahe ho yahan? Chale jao yaha se warna abhi police ko bulata hoon!"
(What are you doing here? Leave right now, or I'll call the police!)

The drunkards hesitated, exchanged a few murmurs, and then reluctantly retreated.

"Thank you so much," Mannat said, her voice trembling with relief as she turned to the couple.

The woman smiled kindly. "Beta, iss samay akele mat chala karo. Ye duniya safe nahi hai."(Child, don’t walk alone at this hour. This world is not safe.)

Mannat nodded, offering a weak smile. "Aap dono ka shukriya."(Thank you both.)

As they left, Mannat took a deep breath and continued on her way. Her eyes fell on something shiny lying on the ground—a wallet. She bent down, picked it up, and inspected it under the dim streetlight.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the name embossed on one of the credit cards inside: Armaan Singh Raizada.

Her brows furrowed as a flood of questions rushed through her mind. Yeh wallet yahan kaise gira? Armaan iss jagah par kya kar raha tha?(How did this wallet end up here? What was Armaan doing in this place?)