The sky donned a shawl of gold as dusk waltzed past the windows of the Suryavanshi mansion. The home buzzed with an intimate silence, servants glided like recited verses, and the wind tugged at silken curtains. Ritika lingered beside the tall, curving window, her thoughts half-wayward on whispers that carried the fragrance of a secret desire.
Then, like a faint whisper from fate itself, her phone rang.
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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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