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"Adviii, please come back! Adviii, please! I canβt live without you!" Her words pierced my heart. After all, she is my love. How could I bear to hear these words from her mouth? But he was her first love; she had every right to cry over his death. Blood oozed from her hand as she wailed in front of everyone, begging to save him. My shirt was soaked with her tears. She wiped them quickly and pulled away, her voice trembling with stammering words, as if begging. "Aap humse pyaar karte hain na?" she asked. I took her hands and wiped the blood with my shirt. The stains of her blood and tears marked my failure as a husband. Every time I vowed to protect her, I ended up breaking that vow, unable to handle the situation. "Haan, Jaan, hum aapse beintehaa ishq karte hain," I said, giving her assurance in a soft voice, though my heart ached to see her in such pain. I pulled her closer, showering her with all the love I could muster, but the depth of her grief was beyond my reach. The umbrella of my love had scattered, unable to shield her from this storm. "Aapne kaha tha ki hum aapse kuch bhi maang sakte hain," she said, placing her hands on mine, her eyes shining with hope, believing I could fix everything for her. For the first time, my eyes lied to hers, unable to offer the solace she sought. Everyone present witnessed her breakdown and my helplessness. "Haan, aap kuch bhi maang sakti hain humse," I nodded, feeling regretful. I knew what she would ask, and I felt miserable and helpless, unable to fulfill her wish. For the first time, I felt ashamed of myself, unable to grant the one thing she desired. She was my lifeline, and I would have taken anything from anyone to give her what she wanted. If it were possible to beg from God, I would have done that too, just to see her enchanting smile and the playful spirit of my Shivuuu again. "Please, use wapas laa dijiye. Hum mar jayenge uske bina. Woh humara pehla pyaar hai, hum mar jayenge," she cried, her voice desperate, her head bowed in front of me. The person who never bowed to anyone but her God was now begging me to bring back her love. She believed I could restore her happiness, but this time she was wrong. The situation was beyond my control. "Aap jo kahenge hum woh karenge. Hum apna sir jhuka kar jeeyenge aapke saamne, par please use wapas laa dijiye. Hum mar jayenge uske bina. Hum aapke ghulaam ban kar rahenge. Jab kahenge uthe tab uthenge, jaise kahenge waise karenge, but please, usse wapas laa dijiye. Hum nahi jee payenge uske bina," she pleaded between hiccups, and leaned into my chest, trying to hide her face, seeking the solace she always found in my arms. But this time, I knew she wouldnβt find it. Her tears soaked my shirt, her breath becoming labored. I looked at her helplessly. She kept chanting, "Hum mar jayenge," . I held her, feeling utterly powerless, as my love cried in my arms, begging me to save her first love. And I couldnβt even give her the reassurance that I would do something to save him.
