Sanvi was a quiet, innocent girl who lived alone with her mother — the dean of her school. Her mother was a strict, ambitious woman who constantly pressured Sanvi to succeed, especially in winning the upcoming violin competition. It wasn’t about the music anymore; it was about pride.
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One Evening:
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Sanvi returned from school, her shoulders slumped under the weight of her books and her mother's expectations.
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"Drink this," her mother said, handing her a glass of milk as soon as she stepped through the door.
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She took it to her room, closed the door gently behind her, and without a second thought, poured the milk into the potted plant by her window.
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The Next Morning
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While walking to school, Sanvi found herself surrounded by a group of boys — local hooligans .
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"Where are you off to, violin princess?" one sneered, stepping too close.
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Before she could react, a voice broke through the tension.
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"Back off."
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Another boy stepped in. He was one of them — dressed rough, with eyes that seemed used to trouble. But something about him was different. Calmer. Kinder.
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He drove the others away, then turned to Sanvi. "Are you okay?"
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She nodded, trembling slightly.
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He gently touched her arm, noticing a scratch. "You're bleeding."
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They sat by the roadside as he cleaned her wound using a handkerchief and water from his bottle.
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Over the next few days, they met again — by chance, or maybe not.
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But in his company, Sanvi felt like she could breathe.
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One afternoon, in the quiet of an abandoned park, he leaned in and kissed her. It was sudden, electric. But when his hands began to move further, she gently pushed him back.
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"I... I should go," she whispered, standing up quickly.
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He blinked, surprised. "Oh... shit. Sorry."
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Sanvi didn’t reply. She just walked away, her heart pounding, unsure if it was from fear, guilt — or something else entirely.
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As soon as Sanvi stepped through the front door, her mother’s voice echoed through the hall.
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"Where were you?"
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Sanvi froze, her bag still on her shoulder.
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"Who are you hanging out with these days?" her mother demanded, arms crossed. "Don’t forget the violin competition is in two weeks. You’ve been slipping."
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Sanvi dropped her bag to the floor. Her voice cracked.
"Yes, yes... the violin competition. That’s all you ever care about, isn’t it?"
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Sanvi stepped forward, tears already welling in her eyes.
"Have you ever cared about me? About how I feel? It's always school, violin, achievements — but never me."
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The slap came without warning.
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Her mother’s hand trembled as she lowered it.
"You think this is easy for me? Ever since your father died, I’ve done everything I can to raise you right. Alone."
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Sanvi stood there, stunned, her cheek burning.
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"And what about me?" she whispered. "Have you ever given me anything but books and violins? I’m your daughter, not your project. I have feelings too, Mom."
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She turned and walked toward her room, shoulders shaking.
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"I left your milk in your room," her mother called coldly.
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Sanvi didn’t respond. She entered her room, shut the door behind her, and picked up the glass of milk from the desk. Her eyes were still wet.
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She walked over to the plant near the window — the same one that had soaked up so many of her untouched drinks — and slowly poured the milk into the soil.
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Sanvi left the house that evening with trembling hands and a fire in her chest. The slap, the shouting — it all echoed in her mind. She needed out. She needed him.
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She knocked on Akash’s door.
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The moment he opened it, she threw her arms around him and kissed him — deeply, desperately. There were no words, just breath and longing.
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They held each other tighter than ever, and this time, there was no hesitation.
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Later, the room was silent except for the ticking of an old wall clock. Sanvi, wrapped in a towel, noticed something leaning against the wall — a violin.
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She walked over, curious, her fingers brushing the strings. Then she began to play.
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Soft. Melancholy. Pure.
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"Stop..." Akash said from behind her, voice breaking..But he stood frozen ..it's beautiful
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Two Weeks Later
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Their world had become a secret bubble — quiet mornings, soft music, hidden glances in the school hallway.
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But one day, Sanvi burst into Akash’s place, eyes red, face pale.
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"Akash..." she gasped, panicked. "...I’m pregnant."
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The words hit like thunder.
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"I have the violin competition . My mom will kill me. I—I’m not ready for this. I don’t know what to do..."
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She broke down, her body shaking as she collapsed into his arms. He held her tightly, stroking her hair.
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"It’s okay," he whispered. "I’m here. We’ll figure this out together."
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She pulled back slightly, tears still falling.
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"Will you come tomorrow? For the competition?"
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"Of course. I’ll be there."repled Akash.
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Competition Day
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The auditorium was filled with applause.
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Sanvi stood on stage, violin still trembling in her hands after a flawless performance. Her heart pounded — not from nerves, but from everything building inside her for weeks.
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“The winner of this year’s State Violin Championship,” the judge announced, “is... Sanvi Mehra!”
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Cheers erupted. Her mother stood, pride written all over her face. For the first time in a long while, Sanvi smiled.
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She stepped forward to receive the trophy—when a voice rang out.
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“Wait.”
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Everyone turned.
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Akash was walking down the aisle toward the stage.
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Sanvi froze.
“Akash... what are you doing?” she said under her breath, panic rising.
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He climbed onto the stage.
“The Dean’s daughter,” he said, looking out at the crowd, “isn’t as innocent as she looks.”
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Gasps echoed around the hall. Sanvi’s mother stood up, face turning red.
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“Get off the stage right now!” she yelled.
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Sanvi whispered, pleading. “Please stop, Akash. Go down. This isn’t the place...”
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But he didn’t stop.
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“She’s in love with a hooligan like me,” he said. “And she’s pregnant. With my child.”
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The audience went silent — a crushing, stunned silence.
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Sanvi’s mother stumbled backward, gripping a chair for support. Her face went pale, and she collapsed to her knees. Teachers rushed to her side.
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The headmaster stepped up to the microphone, his face stern.
“Enough of this nonsense. Sanvi is a model student. She’s kind, disciplined, the top of her class. Who are you to slander her in front of everyone?”
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Akash reached into his pocket and pulled out folded medical papers.
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He threw them at the headmaster’s feet.
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“The father of her child,” he said, turning to Sanvi. “Isn’t that right?”
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Sanvi’s face crumpled. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she fell to the floor, clutching the trophy like it could hold her together.
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“Why?” she whispered. “Why are you doing this to me?”
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“Does she still deserve this trophy?” he asked the room.
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Murmurs filled the crowd. Whispers. Judgment. Eyes.
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Sanvi’s world was spinning.
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As Akash walked off the stage, Sanvi stood up, shaking with rage and heartbreak.
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“I hate you, Akash!” she screamed. “I HATE YOU!”
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But he didn’t turn back.
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7 Years Later
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The bar was dimly lit, reeking of smoke and spilled alcohol. Music throbbed low in the background. A man slammed his bottle down on the counter and yelled at the waiter.
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"What the hell is this? What kind of taste is this?!"
Without warning, he smashed the bottle across the waiter's head. The bar fell into a stunned silence.
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From the corner, a woman exhaled a slow stream of smoke. She wore a red-striped dress, her vibrant red hair falling over one shoulder. A cigarette hung from her lips.
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She stood and walked forward, heels clicking sharply on the floor.
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"Sorry, sir..." she said with a cold smirk. "If the taste doesn't suit you, maybe you should try something else."
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The man turned to face her. His expression shifted from anger to shock.
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“Sanvi…?”
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She blew out smoke and tilted her head. “Tell me, sirrr, what would you like to order? And please—don’t disturb my other customers.”
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“Sanvi, wait… where have you been? I’ve been looki—"
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She cut him off, her tone sharp. “Sir, order something or leave.”
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Akash grabbed her hand gently, pulling her away to a quieter corner of the bar.
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“Why? Why did you become like this?” he asked, voice low, full of disbelief.
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Sanvi laughed bitterly, her eyes tired.
“Why? You really don’t know?” She looked away. “All thanks to you.”
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“I know,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have used you… I was wrong.”
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“Oh… is that so?” she said, straightening her posture. “Well, apology not accepted.”
She stubbed out her cigarette, grabbed her tray, and turned. “I’ll get going.”
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She walked away without another word.
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Akash stood frozen.
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Sanvi entered the dim hospital room, heart heavy. Her mother sat on the bed, rocking slightly, eyes unfocused and distant. She looked fragile, trapped in a world of confusion.
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“Mom…” Sanvi’s voice trembled as she took a step closer.
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Her mother suddenly flinched, pulling away and whispering, “Who… who are you?”
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Sanvi swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “It’s me, Mom. Sanvi. Your daughter.”
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Her mother’s eyes darted around, unable to focus on her. “No… no… I don’t know you… Go away…”
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Tears streamed down Sanvi’s face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. For the pain, for the mistakes… I never meant to hurt you.”
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Her mother shivered, covering her face with trembling hands. “Not her… not my daughter… please…”
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Sanvi reached out gently, but her mother recoiled, overwhelmed and lost.
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Sanvi backed away slowly, heart breaking, tears falling silently as she left the room.
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Akash quietly followed Sanvi to the hospital,He stepped forward hesitantly, reaching out an arm as if to comfort her,
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He froze, unable to close the distance.
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Sanvi looked up at him, eyes burning with pain and anger.
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“Are you happy now?” she asked suddenly, voice raw. “Did you want to see me like this?
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“No... I—” he began, but she cut him off.
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“After everything, do you feel better?” she whispered. “Tell me. Are you happy?”
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His hand dropped slowly, defeated.
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“please don’t appear in front of me,” Sanvi said firmly, trying to back away.
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But Akash grabbed her arm forcefully and dragged her inside his house. Without warning, he pushed her onto the bed.
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“What more do you want from me?” she yelled, eyes burning with frustration and guilt.
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Sanvi sat up, glaring. Akash pulled out his phone and showed her a photo.
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“You know who she is?” he asked harshly.
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Sanvi looked closely at the picture
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“Our senior violinist,” she said quietly.
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Akash’s voice cracked. “She was my sister. My only close relative. She committed suicide.”
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Sanvi’s eyes widened.
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Akash continued, voice shaking, “And do you know who the last person she met was? Your mother.”
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“She jumped from the building… and it’s all because of your mother. But I never meant to hurt you, Sanvi. Actually... I’ve already liked you.”
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Sanvi smiled bitterly, eyes cold.
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“Oh, is that so? Then get lost,” she shouted, voice sharp as a knife.
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Akash sighed heavily, his voice soft but firm.
“Let’s just forget everything, okay?”
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He reached down and brought out a violin, holding it carefully.
“Look... don’t you like the violin? Take it. Play that.”
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Sanvi’s mind flashed back to painful memories —
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The hooligans teasing her cruelly in school, their sneers ringing in her ears,they jeered, shoving her books, mocking her every step.
Their words stung like knives, but the worst was their hands — pushing, grabbing, tearing at her dignity.
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“Miss Violinist, don’t you like hooligans? How about me? Do you like it?” a mocking voice echoed.
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“Go away,” she had whispered, tears burning.
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“Stop acting innocent, I knew you were pregnant. It’s fine. Give me a child too.”
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Suddenly, his hand slammed down hard, breaking her wrist.
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Sanvi looked up, pain and fury flashing in her eyes.
“Thanks to you,” she spat, voice trembling but fierce, “I could never play the violin again.”
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Sanvi stormed out of Akash’s house, refusing to look back. Akash followed her, but every time she saw him, she turned away and rejected him.
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One day, unable to let go, Akash followed her to the hospital. He wasn’t allowed to see Sanvi’s mother, so he stood outside her ward, feeling helpless.
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As he waited, the school principal approached him quietly.
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“Are you related to them?” he asked cautiously.
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“No,” Akash replied, lowering his gaze.
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“But I know her mother was the dean of the school. She was a great woman — always kind and respected. It’s hard to see her like this now.”--said principal
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“Kind?” Akash scoffed bitterly.
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“Aren’t you the one from seven years ago?”
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“I—yes, it’s me,” Akash admitted reluctantly.
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“Why do you keep involving yourself in their lives?” the principal asked, eyes narrowing.
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Akash hesitated, then said, “Do you remember Sanaya? She was a senior violinist too… she committed suicide. They say it was because of the dean.”
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The principal’s face hardened. “Sanaya? Suicide because of the dean? That’s nonsense.”
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The principal sighed softly. “Sanaya was going through a very difficult time. There were rumors going around that she was living with a hooligan.”
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“She was sensitive and shy, and the gossip made it even harder for her.”
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“The dean, Sanvi’s mother, talked to her and asked her to explain to everyone that the boy was actually her brother — just to stop the rumors.”
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“But Sanaya struggled with all the pressure and the misunderstanding. She felt very alone and overwhelmed.”
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“In the end, the weight of everything became too much for her, and she made a heartbreaking choice to end her life.”
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Akash’s voice trembled, eyes wide with disbelief.
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“You mean… she died because of those rumors about the hooligan brother?”
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He shook his head, struggling to grasp the truth.
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“Me? All these years, I was blaming others… while I was the actual reason.”
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Sanvi arrived after visiting her mother, surprised to see Akash waiting.
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“Why are you here?” she asked, her voice cautious.
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Without a word, Akash wrapped his arms around her and broke down crying.
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“Sanvi… I’m sorry,” he choked out between tears. “I know I’m not qualified to ask this… but please, forgive me. Please.”
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For a moment, Sanvi stood still, then gently pulled away.
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“I'll never forgive you,” she whispered, but turned and walked away, leaving him behind.
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Days later, Akash returned with a professional doctor to treat her broken wrist.
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“Why are you doing this?” Sanvi asked quietly.
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“I don’t know if it’s guilt or something else,” Akash replied softly. “I just want you to play the violin again.”
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Sanvi looked at the doctor, then nodded slowly, accepting the treatment.
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A few days later:
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Akash had arranged a beautiful ceremony space — lanterns hanging from trees, white roses everywhere, a small gathering of people waiting in anticipation.
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Akash stepped forward, nervous but hopeful. He knelt down in front of Sanvi and opened the box.
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“Sanvi,” he said gently, eyes filled with emotion, “will you marry me?”
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Sanvi stared at the ring.
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She didn’t smile.
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She picked it up—then slowly let it fall to the ground.
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Gasps rippled through the crowd.
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Akash stood, stunned.
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You think this scene feels familiar--she asked bitterly.
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“You think you’ll be forgiven just like that?” she asked, her voice soft but heavy with emotion.
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“I cried myself to sleep while you walked away.”
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“I lost my mother, my dreams, my innocence"
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Akash tried to speak, but she raised a hand to stop him.
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“I forgave you,” she whispered, “but not because I wanted to be with you — because I needed to let go of the weight you left on my soul.”
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Then she stepped back.
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“I don’t need a partner who remembers me after the storm. I need someone who would’ve stood with me in the rain.”
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Akash stood frozen, heart sinking as he watched her walk away.
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His voice cracked as he called out after her,
“So… you never wanted to be with me? Not even once?”
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Sanvi paused mid-step. She didn’t turn around.
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Her voice was calm, cold, and unshaken.
“Never.”
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Then she walked away — her back straight, her silence louder than any goodbye — leaving Akash standing in the glow of lights.
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and then Add to home screen.