### **Rudra Singh Rathor’s Perspective:

I pulled the black SUV into the grand, silent driveway of the Rathor mansion. The house was enormous, opulent, and utterly cold. My rage was gone, replaced by a hollow, aching dread. I had one goal: reach my soundproof room, turn off the world, and figure out how to salvage the destruction I’d wrought.

I stepped out of the car, throwing my keys onto the hall table. I was halfway to the staircase when a voice, firm yet incredibly warm, cut through the cavernous silence.

**Bebe:** **“*Rudra! Putar, kidhar chala?* Dinner toh kar le.”** (Son, where are you going? At least have dinner.)

I snapped out of my dark thoughts. **bebe .** My grandmother. She was the matriarch, the soft, beating heart of this ruthless family. Everyone else—my parents, my siblings—were in their rooms, busy with their own high-society lives. But bebe always waited.

I stopped immediately. I couldn't ignore her. She was my anchor, the only person I allowed to see past the CEO shield.

I walked toward the enormous mahogany dining table. She was sitting there alone, a small silver *thali* (plate) in front of her, dressed in a simple, immaculate white *salwar kameez*.

I bent down instantly, touching her feet in the traditional Punjabi greeting. The simple act grounded me.

**Rudra:** **“*Sat Sri Akal, bebe*”**

**bebe:** (She placed a loving hand on my head, her rings cool against my hair) **“*Jeonda reh, putar.* May you live long, child. *Khush reh.*”** (Stay happy.)

I stood up, trying to compose my face into the mask of weary exhaustion I usually wore for the family.

**bebe:** **“*Aaja, baith ja. Khaana kha.*”** (Come, sit down. Eat the food.)

I pulled out the heavy chair opposite her. **“*Nahi, bebe. Mujhe bhook nahi hai. Bahut kaam tha aaj.*”** (No, Dadi. I am not hungry. There was a lot of work today.)

She didn't press the food. Instead, her warm, keen eyes—eyes that had seen decades of Rathor drama—narrowed slightly, studying my face.

**bebe:** (Her voice was gentle, the Punjabi accent thick with affection) **“*Kam toh roz hi hunda ae, putar. Aaj tere chehre te gussa nahi, par… dukh hai.*”** (Work happens every day, son. Today, there isn't anger on your face, but... sadness.)

I tensed up immediately. She was too good. Just like Ishita had sensed my tiredness on the stairs, bebe sensed the true, internal wound.

**Rudra:** **“*Nahi, bebe. Sab theek hai. Bas thoda stress hai. Clients...*”** (No, Dadi. Everything is fine. Just a little stress. Clients...)

**bebe:** (She cut me off with a soft wave of her hand) **“*Aida na bol.* Don't talk like that.** **“*Teri nas nas mein business da khoon hai, Rudra. Clients toh tu ek second mein theek kar dinda ae.* This is something *dil* related.”** (Business blood is in your veins, Rudra. You fix clients in a second. This is heart related.)

She leaned forward, her expression entirely focused on me.

**bebe:** **“*Meri aankhon mein dekh. Jab tera business doobta hai, teri aankhein gusse mein laal ho jaati hain. Par aaj toh... teri aankhein khaali hain. Jaise kuch kho gaya ho.*”** (Look in my eyes. When your business sinks, your eyes go red with anger. But today... your eyes are empty. As if something is lost.)

She paused, then her lips curved into a tiny, knowing smile.

**bebe:** **“*Ya... jisko tune dukhi kar ditta, woh door chala gaya.*”** (Or... the one you hurt has gone far away.)

The direct hit stunned me into silence. She knew. She didn't know *who*, but she knew the core truth: I had hurt someone I shouldn't have.

**Rudra:** (I couldn't meet her gaze. I focused on the intricate carving on the table) **“bebe, please. *Badi baat nahi hai.*”** (It's not a big deal.)

**bebe:** **“*Mere liye toh har cheez badi hai jo mere putar ko dukhi kare.*”** (For me, everything is a big deal that makes my son sad.) **“*Apni Ishita ko dukhi kitta ae na?*”** (Did you hurt your Ishita, right?)

My head snapped up. I stared at her, utterly shocked. How did she know that name?

**Rudra:** **“bebe... *aapko Ishita ka naam kaise pata?*”** (Dadi, how do you know Ishita's name?)

**bebe:** (She chuckled softly, a sound like dry leaves rustling) **“*Main teri Dadi haan, putar. Aur jiske liye mera pota 24 ghante phone te lagga rehnda hai, jiski vajah toh woh hasna sikh gaya, uska naam toh pata hi hovega na?* Now tell bebe. What did you say to her?”** (I am your Grandmother, son. And the one who keeps my grandson on the phone 24 hours, because of whom he learned to smile, I will know her name, right? Now tell Dadi.)

Her knowing question—"Did you hurt your Ishita?"—shattered the last of my defenses. The fatigue, the stress, the crushing guilt—it all converged. I felt like a little boy again, seeking refuge from the confusing world.

I didn't try to hide anymore. I gently pulled bebe’s arm closer and rested my forehead on her soft, elderly hand, right there on the enormous dining table. The cool, familiar scent of her clothes and the comforting touch of her skin were the only real things left.

**Rudra:** (My voice was low, muffled, raw with self-disgust) **“*Haan, Dadi. Maine usko dukh diya.* Bohot bura bola.”** (Yes, Dadi. I hurt her. I said something very bad.)

**bebe:** (She started stroking my hair gently, a rhythmic, soothing action) **“*Kaisa dukh diya, putar?* Tell Dadi. *Tune toh uski hifazat karni si.*”** (What kind of hurt did you give, son? You were supposed to protect her.)

**Rudra:** (I closed my eyes, the scene replaying with painful clarity) **“*Woh keh rahi thi ki mujhe thoda normal insaan banna chahiye. Ki main hamesha robot ki tarah rehta hoon.*”** (She was telling me that I should become a little more like a normal human. That I always act like a robot.) **“*Aur maine... maine uske sapne tohde, bebe.* Maine usko bola ki uski life sirf *background noise* hai. Ki woh sirf ek *pretty distraction* hai.”** (And I... I shattered her dreams, bebe. I told her her life was just background noise. That she was just a pretty distraction.)

I pulled back, looking at her with genuine despair.

**Rudra:** **“*Woh phir chup ho gayi, bebe. Usne kuch nahi bola. Na rooyi. Bas chup karke chali gayi.*”** (She became completely silent, bebe. She didn't say anything. She didn't cry. She just left quietly.) **“*Mujhe uski awaz sunni thi, uski complaint sunni thi! Yeh chup hona... yeh mujhe maar raha hai.*”** (I wanted to hear her voice, hear her complaint! This silence... it's killing me.)

**bebe:** (She looked at me, her eyes full of profound understanding and sorrow) **“*Oh ho, mere putar.* You were tired and angry with yourself, but *tune gussa uske upar nikal ditta.*”** (Oh ho, my son. You were tired and angry with yourself, but you took the anger out on her.) **“*Jab banda bohot pyaar karda hai, tabhi aisi galti karda hai. Jab darr lagda hai ki woh chali jaayegi, tabhi usko chota dikhaate hain.*”** (When a person loves deeply, only then they make such a mistake. When you are scared she will leave, only then you try to belittle her.)

I stayed silent. I hadn't used the word 'love,' but she had spoken it for me. I couldn't deny it. I only nodded miserably.

**bebe:** **“*Sunn Rudra. Woh teri Ahana nahi hai. Ahana ladki hai, par Ishita... woh aurat hai, putar.*”** (Listen, Rudra. She is not your Ahana. Ahana is a girl, but Ishita... she is a woman, son.) **“*Aurat ko paisa ya gusse se nahi manaya jaata. Aurat ko ijjat chahiye. Self-respect chahiye. Aur tune uski woh ijjat tod di.*”** (A woman is not won over by money or anger. A woman needs respect. Self-respect. And you broke her respect.)

*bebe:** **“*Yeh jo tera 'robot' wala gussa hai na... isne usko dard nahi diya. Dard us baat ne diya ki tune uske sapnon ko, uske hunar ko, 'background noise' bola.*”** (This 'robot' anger of yours... that didn't hurt her. The hurt came from calling her dreams, her talent, 'background noise'.)

She leaned closer, her eyes gleaming with absolute certainty.

**bebe:** **“*Tu usko call na kar, Rudra. Message na kar. Teri baat mein ab usko sach nahi dikhega.*”** (Don't call her, Rudra. Don't message. She won't see the truth in your words now.)

**Rudra:** (Desperation creeping into my voice) **“*Toh kya karoon, bebe? Main uske bina saans nahi le sakta.*”** (So what should I do, Dadi? I can't breathe without her.)

**bebe:** **“*Chup kar, mere sher.*”** (Be quiet, my lion.) **“*Tu usko dikha.* Go and show her that she is not background noise. That she is the main stage. *Jaa, putar. Aaj uske liye khada ho.*”** (Go, son. Stand up for her today.)

She gave my hand a final, firm squeeze. She had given me my orders. Not to apologize, but to act.

---

### **Rudra Singh Rathor’s Perspective:

I stared at bebe, the immense love I felt for Ishita warring with the sudden, tactical fear of her middle-class reality.

**Rudra:** (I lowered my voice, the CEO's calculation returning, tinged with genuine nervousness) **“bebe, *abhi bahut der ho gayi hai.* It’s late night. *Aur uske ghar jaaunga toh, uske khaandaan se pit ke aaunga.*”** (And if I go to her house, I’ll get beaten up by her family.)

**Rudra:** **“*Uske papa gym trainer hain, bebe!* 6’4” *ke honge, aur main unke saamne chhota pad jaaunga.* I’m not wearing my armor! *Aur uski family nahi jaanti hamare baare mein.*”** (Her father is a gym trainer, bebe! He must be 6'4", and I'll look small in front of him. Her family doesn't know about us.)

**bebe:** (She let out a loud, proud chuckle, slapping my arm playfully) **“*Oh ho, mere Rudra.* Then why are you Rudra Singh Rathor? *Tu bhi toh future King) of Rajasthan hai na!* Did you get scared of a gym trainer? *Darr gaya kya?*”**

**Rudra:** (I straightened up, insulted by the implication of fear, but the internal conflict remained) **“*Nahi!* Why would I be scared? *Main toh… main toh bas* protocol ki baat kar raha hoon.”** (No! I’m just talking about protocol.)

I sighed, the anger draining out, leaving only vulnerability.

**Rudra:** **“But yes, a little fear. *Kya pata, usne mera number block kar diya ho.* What if she didn’t even want to see me? *Mera usko itna bura bolna...* It was too much.”** (What if she blocked my number? My saying such bad things to her...)

I realized I was stalling, talking to bebe about my fear of the family when the real fear was rejection from Ishita.

Then, the mood shifted. I started talking about her, the darkness in the room lifting with every word.

**Rudra:** (A genuine, soft smile finally touched my lips, the first one since she left) **“*Waise, bebe… aapko pata hai woh kitni achhi hai?* She’s just a baby, just twenty years old. But she’s so good and so focused.”** (By the way, Dadi... do you know how good she is?)

**Rudra:** **“She is such a great makeup artist. *Itni choti umar mein, itna naam kamaaya.* And she’s a beginner in modeling, but she carries herself like a queen. She laughs so loudly, bebe, and she argues with me over *poha* and *chai*.”** (She earned so much fame at such a young age.)

I leaned back, my eyes fixed on an imaginary point, clearly seeing her face.

**Rudra:** **“*Woh ekdum aisi hai ki main usko bas dekhta hi rahun. Itni choti, par uski aankhon mein itni himmat hai.*  bebe, and she brings her little *dabbas* (tiffin boxes) to the set. She doesn't understand Korean, so she just talks in English and makes the whole set laugh.”** (She is such that I can just keep looking at her. So short, but there is so much courage in her eyes.)

My voice was full of undisguised adoration, softening, melting into pure admiration. I was no longer the CEO; I was just the man deeply, hopelessly in love.

---

### **Dadi’s Perspective: The Witness of Love**

I watched my cold, ruthless grandson transform before my eyes. The rigid posture was gone. The ocean-blue eyes, which usually held the fate of nations, now only held the image of a small, bright girl.

He spoke about her height, her simple *dabbas*, her laugh, her courage—small details that only a person consumed by deep affection would notice and cherish. He hadn't confessed *love* with the word, but he had confessed it with his entire being.

**bebe:** (A profound sense of peace washed over me. I reached out and gently placed my hand on his cheek) **“*Rudra, mere putar.*”** (Rudra, my son.)

**bebe:** **“*Main samajh gayi.*”** (I understand.) **“*Rab ka shukar hai.* Thank God. *Tune sirf background noise nahi, Rab di meherbani dhoondh li.*”** (You didn't just find background noise, you found God's blessing.)

**bebe:** **“*Woh choti hai, par woh tere jaisi badi deewar ko hila sakti hai. Aur uska baap gym trainer hai toh kya hua?* You go there, my Prince. Go and tell the gym trainer that his daughter is worthy of a Rathor’s respect. Go and stand up for her. *Dar mat. Yeh tera pyaar hai.*”** (She is small, but she can shake a big wall like you. And what if her father is a gym trainer? Don't be scared. This is your love.)

I knew I had to push him. He didn't need forgiveness; he needed direction.

**bebe:** **“*Ja, putar. Abhi ja. Der ho gayi hai. Aur usko bata ki woh tere liye kya hai.*”** (Go, son. Go now. It is late. And tell her what she is to you.)

---

### **Rudra Singh Rathor’s Perspective: The Postponement**

Bebe’s fierce conviction was tempting, but the memory of Ishita’s cold, final *thank you* was a stronger deterrent. The idea of facing her family, let alone her, at 1 AM was not a risk I was willing to take yet.

**Rudra:** (I pulled away from her comforting touch, standing up, but still speaking softly) **“*Nahi, bebe. Abhi nahi.* She must be asleep. *Itni der ho gayi hai.*”** (No, Dadi. Not now. It's so late.)

I looked down at her, trying to sound firm, but the affection was undeniable.

**Rudra:** **“*Aur aap na, zyada Jhansi ki Rani mat bano.* ‘*Abhi ja, abhi ja*’ *karke!*”** (And you, don't act like the Queen of Jhansi so much. With all this 'Go now, go now' talk!)

I shuddered dramatically, trying to inject some levity to hide my genuine fear.

**Rudra:** **“*Pata chale kal, Rathor haadiyan tudva ke aaya hai!* That gym trainer will break me! *Aapka future ka  (King) of Rajasthan hospital mein hoga.*”** (What if tomorrow, the Rathor comes back with broken bones! Your future King of Rajasthan will be in the hospital.)

I looked pointedly at the dinner spread.

**Rudra:** **“*Aur mujhe bhook nahi hai, bebe* Not a single bit. *Aap bhi so jao chalo.* It’s late.”** (And I am not hungry, Dadi. You also go and sleep now.)

I knew the refusal to eat would worry her, but I couldn't swallow a thing.

### **Dadi’s Perspective: The Dramatic Plea**

I watched my strong, stubborn grandson refuse to move. He was right; it was late. But the heart of the Rathor empire was hurting, and all he could think of was his broken pride and a gym trainer.

**bebe:** (I sighed dramatically, placing my hand over my chest) **“*Haye! Meri toh kismet hi kharaab hai!*”** (Oh, my luck is bad!) **“My heart is breaking, and my grandson is talking about bones! *Maine tujhe sher paala tha, tu toh chuha ban gaya.*”** (I raised you like a lion, but you've become a mouse.)

**bebe:** **“*Aur haan!* Dinner toh tune karna hi nahi hai. *Jab Ishita chali gayi, toh khaane mein swaad kahaan se aayega?*”** (And yes! You won't eat dinner, of course. When Ishita leaves, where will the taste come from?)

I gave him a look of absolute pity and disappointment.

**bebe:** **“*Theek hai, theek hai. Kal subah jaana.* But listen to me carefully, Rudra.”**

I reached out, grabbing his hand and pulling him close for a final, serious word.

**bebe:** **“*Kal subah, pehle uske paas jaana. Uske baad office. Promise me!* You don't go to that office until you fix this. *Aur haadiyan tudvane ka dar mat rakh. Hum Rathor hain. Hum maafi maangte hain, toh woh ijjat se karte hain.*”** (Go to her first thing tomorrow morning. After that, the office. Don't be afraid of getting your bones broken. We are Rathors. When we apologize, we do it with honor.)

**Rudra:** (He looked resigned, the fight draining out of him) **“*Theek hai, bebe.* I promise. First Ishita. Then Eternity.”**

He touched my feet again, gave me a quick, weary look, and walked away toward his silent room.

I watched him go, then folded my hands and looked up at the ceiling. **“*Bhagwan ji, us choti si Ishita ko himmat dena. Mere putar ki zindagi ki chaabi ab uske haath mein hai.*”** (Dear God, give that little Ishita strength. The key to my son's life is now in her hands.)

I was satisfied. The Prince had his orders.