1st book of ISHQ series.
「 ? What if your first love becomes your last and forever one?? A dream come true, right? ? 」
?.???? DIYA KHURANA ??? ?
For me you are my "Kyuki tum hi ho, Ab tum hi ho,
...
Trigger Warning: This chapter contains themes of emotional neglect, comparison within family, and self-harm. Reader discretion is advised. If you are struggling or know someone who is, please consider reaching out to a trusted person or a mental health professional. You are not alone.
────୨ৎ──── Sometimes, the loudest cries are the ones we hide within us, swallowed by a world too busy to listen, leaving us to fight battles no one ever sees. ────୨ৎ────
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I practically bounced into the house, my school bag still slung over my shoulder. Today had been unexpectedly good— I had aced the surprise test. 23 out of 25. The highest in the class. Even Mrs. Verma, who hardly ever handed out compliments, had given me an approving nod. Everyone was clapping for me and even the other teachers praised me as the tests of Mrs. Verma are really very tough and the highest someone has scored in it was 20/25 and that was only once. No one touched the 20th mark except our class topper, Vikram. Even he scored 19/20 in this one. I am on cloud nine right now, at least for now.
I couldn't wait to tell my parents. Maybe this time, they'd be proud.
"Mom! Dad!" I called out, stepping into the living room, where my mother is folding clothes and my father is reading the newspaper, it seems there are less patients today. My younger brother, Aditya, lounged on the sofa, watching the television.
My mother glanced up briefly. "Kya hua?" (What happened?)
I grinned, holding up my test paper like a trophy. "I got 23 out of 25! Highest in the class!"
There was a brief pause. Then, instead of the praise I had been hoping for, my father clicked his tongue.
"Bas? 25 kyun nahi aaye?" (That's it? Why not 25?)
My smile faltered. "Uh....I made a small mistake in one question, and the other one—"
My mother sighed, shaking her head. "Diya, yeh koi badi baat nahi hai. Jab tak perfect nahi laogi, tab tak yeh sab faltu khushi manaane ka koi matlab nahi." (Diya, this is not a big deal. Until you get a perfect score, there's no point in celebrating these meaningless achievements.)
My father nodded. "Exactly. Tumse toh yeh expect hi karte hai hum. Tum badi ho. Zyada mehnat karo." (Exactly. We expect this from you. You're the eldest—work harder.)
It wasn't like I hadn't heard this before. But today, it stung a little more. I had topped the class. Was that not good enough?
I swallowed the lump in my throat, nodding silently as I folded the paper and stuffed it into my bag. Maybe I had been foolish to expect more.
