Tujhe kya gham? Tera rishta gagan ki bansuri se hai Pavan ki guftagu se hai, sooraj ki roshni se hai Udiyo, na dariyo kar manmaani, manmaani, manmaani Badhiyo, na mudiyo kar nadani Udiyo, na dariyo kar manmaani, manmaani, manmaani Badhiyo, na mudiyo kar nadani

~Masakali



I'm a Stalker.

Yes, you heard it right. I'm a stalker.

I’m obsessed with a man who doesn’t give a damn about me. Why would he? He’s a prince. And me? Well, I’m a princess. But he’s out of my league, Maybe.

He has that "don-gunda" vibe—intimidating and magnetic. He’s a man in every sense of the word. Fierce, commanding, and dangerous. Once, he beat the hell out of a guy just because he tried blackmailing him just wanted to get married his sister. And, oh, she’s breathtaking. I googled her—she looks like a goddess.

He is protective, the kind of man who doesn’t let anyone mess with his love ones. And that’s precisely my type.

In my endless stalking, I noticed something—he rarely smiles. I mean, we don't have to pay bills for smile. There’s no tragedy in his life, at least not from what I’ve dug up. Then why doesn’t he smile?

We have never spoken, but I saw him third time at a business party. The moment he walked in, he commanded attention. His aura filled the room, and I was just one of the many staring at him like a fool. But unlike others, I know everything about him. His favorite dessert, favorite color, coffee preferences, hobbies, even his favorite person—his sister.

Sometimes, I think of kidnapping Tara Harsana, his beloved sister, just to make him notice me. But that’s too extreme, right? Too cheap.

“Agar me Tara Harsana ko kidnap kar loon aur phir—

( What if I kidnap Tara Harsana and— )

“Aur phir Mami aapki peetai karegi Aapke Anirudh se pehle” Kritika chuckled, throwing a cushion at me. I caught it but couldn’t hold back my laughter, kicking my legs in the air.

( And then Mami will beat you up before Anirudh even gets the chance )

“Apke Anirudh?” I repeated, feeling a flutter of excitement in my stomach.

( Your Anirudh? )

“No! I’ll just tell him to bring a marriage proposal to our house, and in return, I’ll let his sister go,” I added with a mischievous grin.

“You need therapy,” Kritika rolled her eyes.

Before I could retort, her mom entered the room.

“Come on, Kritika, dinner’s ready. Everyone’s waiting,” she said before leaving.

We exchanged glances, and Kritika stood up. “Let’s go, Di. We’ll talk after dinner.”

We headed downstairs, joining my parents, aunty, grandparents, and my brother Kunal at the dining table.

“I have found another job for you,” Papa said without looking up, continuing with his meal. I nodded, staying silent.

The atmosphere was so tense you could hear the clock ticking on the wall.

“Why can’t she just work in our family business with her brother? It’s not like we’re asking for much,” Dadi grumbled, her gaze boring into me.

“Lekin phir pure din saher mein bewajah awaragardi kon karega” Maa taunted, her sharp glare making me lower my head.

( And then who will wander around the city aimlessly all day? )

“Since she finished her studies, she’s quit ten jobs already. What does she want—a new company just for herself?” Maa continued, her voice rising.

I glanced at Papa, hoping for some support, but he just looked away.

“Sanaya di kal se tum apna khana kamre mein khana suru kar do warna ye log ka yehi continue rahega,” Kunal murmured, leaning close to me.

[ Sanaya Di, maybe you should start eating in your room from tomorrow. It’ll save you from this daily lecture ]

“Shayad me khana hi chord doon,” I whispered back, suppressing a chuckle.

[ Maybe I’ll stop eating altogether ]

“Dekho abhi bhi kaise daat dikha rahi hai besharamon ki tarah” Maa snapped, her frustration spilling over.

[ Look at her laughing shamelessly even now! ]

She is frustrated with me, with my voice, I can't laugh in front of her, she would say I'm shameless laughing at my own situation, if I can cry she would say I'm too weak. If my room is clean then she would say workers aren't specially for me, if my room mess, she would I don't deserve to get married because I'll ruin that man's life. If I stay quiet she would say I'm acting for attention, if I speak I don't have manners. If I stay in the house she would say My life is a waste and if I stay outside she would say I'm “awara”.

I have clearly mentioned all the reasons why I left those jobs. I can't work with my brother then how would I be “awara”.

I can't deny that I'm “awara”. I'm mad over a man sometimes because of him I visited his city. Sometimes nearby cities. In his press conference, his public meeting.

And sometimes, I just stalk him because I want to stay away from my house, which was never my home.

He is something, something that anyone else could never. Even though my family talked about my rishta, they rejected me, before I rejected them. Because my bua and maa don't want to ruin that man's life. Funny.

At this point, I feel lucky to be a girl because at least marriage will get me out of this house. If I were a guy, I would be stuck here forever—even after marriage.

At this point, My mind is so fucked up that I'll rob some money and run away from this house for forever, somewhere at mountains.

“Sanaya Di,” Kunal nudged me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I realized I had completely zoned out.

“I’ve already explained why I left that job,” I said, standing up abruptly. " How dare he to shout on me."

“And who do you think you are—a queen?” Maa scoffed.

“Leave it,” Grandpa said calmly, trying to diffuse the tension.

As the ranting continued, I glanced at my phone. A notification caught my eye—it was a message from his personal assistant, a friend from college. She had texted me the location of his business dinner.

I couldn’t contain my excitement. My heart raced as I whispered to myself, “Udaipur, Udaipur, Udaipur.”

“I’m done. You guys carry on,” I said, excusing myself, and ran upstairs.

"Just see her, how careless she is" my mother raised her voice.

The moment I entered my room, I washed my hands quickly and headed straight to my wardrobe. Excitement buzzed through me as I pulled out my favorite white chikankari kurti and paired it with wide-leg jeans. To complete the look, I selected a pair of oxidized jhumka and bangles, and an ethnic sling bag with bandhani print. For footwear, I opted for my go-to comfortable shoes that still looked chic.

Everything was falling into place. Tomorrow, I had to check out my new job in the morning, and in the evening, I would go to the restaurant. I’d recently discovered that his new project involved a businessman from Udaipur, which meant he was coming to my city for a business dinner.

After two months of not seeing him, I was finally going to catch a glimpse of him again. The thought filled me with so much joy that I couldn’t stop smiling. I felt like I was floating on the ninth cloud.

Carefully, I set everything in place in my wardrobe, making sure tomorrow would be perfect.

🪞🪕📜🪔 ✨

I was all ready in the morning. I slipped a tube of lip gloss and a few other makeup essentials into my bag. Taking a final look at myself in the mirror, I adjusted my kurti and turned toward Kritika, who was sitting cross-legged on my bed, scrolling down in her phone.

“Bro! Are you sure ki tum nahi pakdi jaogi?” Kritika asked, her face riddled with concern. She is the certified overthinker in our house, the kind of person who could come up with a thousand what-ifs. And sometimes, her worst-case scenarios force me to think like her.

[ Bro are you sure, you won't get caught? ]

“Listen,” I started, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Paanch baje tak job. Phir shaam ke cheh baje se main restaurant chali jaungi. Tabhi unka dinner shuru hoga. Dinner mein zyada time nahi lagega, unko ghar bhi toh wapas nikalna hoga. Main kisi bhi haal mein 8 baje tak ghar pahuch jaungi.” I was confident in my plan, but Kritika’s expressions said otherwise.

[ I have a job until five o'clock. Then, from six in the evening, I'll head to the restaurant. That's when their dinner will begin. Dinner won't take much time since he also have to leave for home- Jaipur. In any case, I'll reach home by eight o'clock. ]

She stood up, arms crossed. “Aapko pata hai na, yahan agar thoda sa bhi late hua toh yeh log kaise ghar utha lete hain sar par.”

[ You know, right? If you're even a little late here, these people create a scene in house ]

“Chalo, 5 minute late ho bhi gayi toh hadh se hadh kya karenge? Mummy aur bua daant laga dengi. Woh toh waise bhi bina galti ke lagti hai,” I replied with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood.

[ Alright, even if I’m 5 minutes late, what’s the worst that could happen? Mom and Aunt will scold me. They do that anyway, even when it’s not my fault. ]

Kritika rolled her eyes but didn’t say more. Somewhere, I knew she was genuinely worried, but I also knew how to navigate this house. Or at least, I thought I did.

We came downstairs, where Rudraksh Bhai was engrossed in the pooja, while the rest of the family was seated for breakfast. I quietly took a seat next to Bhai, and Kritika sat beside me. He put tilak on our forehead as our Pooja continued.

“In logon ki sabse alag pooja hoti hai. Jab so-so kar uthte hain barah baje, toh aise hi hota hai,” Bua Ji taunted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

[ These people have a unique time for prayers. When they wake up at twelve after snoozing, this is what happens. ]

I glanced at Kritika, who immediately turned around to defend us. “Bhai jaldi uth jaate hain, bas aaj hi late hai...aur hum bhi...waise abhi aath hi baje hai” she clarified with a composed tone, her expression neutral.

[ Bhai wakes up early, it's just today he is late... and we too... well, it's still only eight o'clock. ]

I shifted my gaze to Bhai, who was murmuring mantras with his eyes closed, unbothered by the ongoing comments. Taking a cue, I shut my eyes as well and silently wished for one thing: to not get caught today.

A few minutes later, we finished the pooja and stood up with Bhai. As we approached the dining table, I clutched my bag's sling and said, “Main jaa rahi hoon.”

[ I'm going ]

“Sanaya, pehle breakfast karo,” Bhai instructed, pulling out his chair and sitting down.

[ Sanaya, Have breakfast first ]

I hesitated, turning to face him. “Main bahar—” I started, but his gaze met mine, sharp and leaving no room for further convenience. That was enough to stop me mid-sentence. Without a word, I took a seat at the table.

Bhai had a certain authority in the house. Ever since he told Maa not to scold me unnecessarily, she rarely said much in front of him. The atmosphere at the dining table usually quiet whenever Bhai is around. He talk to Kritika about her studies and ask me about my job. Grandparents share updates about their health, and Maa use this time to discuss me with him. Bua Ji, of course, never missed a chance to chime in.

Papa and Dada Ji, on the other hand, always tried to keep the topic not to extend much. Their silence serving as a quiet mediator.

And this is me Sanaya Kushan in Kushan family.

To be continued...........

🪞🪕📜🪔 ✨

Target : 400 votes.

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Things I want to you not to do is - Comparing Sanaya to Tara and Anirudh to Rudraksh. You may loves those characters more but both are written by me and comparison - which I might not like.

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