The sun descended slowly, casting hues of burning gold upon the silken canopy of the mandap. Flowers hung like whispers from the pillars—mogra, gulab, and marigold—all witnesses to a war disguised as a wedding.
The drums had softened to a heartbeat.
The air was still.
But inside Anshika, a storm brewed.
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Making a story relatable across different backgrounds means crafting deep, multi-dimensional characters, universal emotions, and themes that resonate with many. Writing so that everyone can enjoy my imagination.
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