The old diary

That old diary

While cleaning the attic of my grandmother's house, I found an old wooden box. A dusty, worn-out box, containing a worn-out diary, yellowed envelopes and a faded black-and-white photograph. In the photograph, grandmother was standing with an unknown young man in her youth. There was a strange sadness in her eyes…

"Mom, whose box is this?" I asked. Mother said casually, "Throw it away, son. This is old junk." But my heart was restless. I turned the first page of the diary and my breath stopped:

"14 August 1947... Papa arranged my marriage with Amrit. But my heart is set on Ranveer. We will elope and get married tomorrow.

That night I went to Nani and asked her directly, "Nani, who was Ranveer?"

Nani's face lost its glow. Slowly she began to tell her story-

"It was during the partition days... Our house was in the narrow lanes of Lahore. Ranveer was our neighbor, and we loved each other since childhood. We could not live without each other. The fragrance of our love started spreading in the lanes of Lahore. My father had imposed many restrictions on me. It became difficult for me to leave the house and one day I came to know that my father had arranged my marriage with Amrit, so I decided to elope with Ranveer. It was the time of partition of the country. Pakistan was being created. Riots had broken out all around. That night riots broke out in Lahore... Ranveer could not meet me that night. He disappeared somewhere due to the riots. I thought he was killed... there was no trace of Ranveer. Meanwhile our and Amrit's family had left everything and come to Amritsar. I was married to Amrit. I had no other option left. On the last page of the diary it was written: "1971... Today I saw Ranveer's picture in the newspaper. He is alive! There was nothing else written in the diary but what was the full story of Nani. My curiosity increased. I wanted to know the whole story. Now I decided to go to Pakistan. It was becoming very difficult for me to wait till my visa came. I was hardly able to suppress the restlessness of my mind to know everything, that too so soon. But that day also came. When I had reached Lahore. Reaching Lahore, I asked an elderly taxi driver, "Where does Ranveer Kapoor live?"

"In Kothi No. 5, but now his son lives there."

The door opened, and a middle-aged man asked, "Are you from Suman's family? My father kept taking her name till his death... He has written in his will that his property should go to Suman and her daughter Surabhi. "Your mother Surabhi is my sister son. I am your maternal uncle. Ranveer is the father of both of us.

My mother's name was Surabhi! Nani had raised Ranveer's daughter by telling her that she was Amrit's child... This truth came out after years. I knew how difficult it would be for my mother to accept this. But I did not want to keep her in confusion.

When I came back, I told my mother everything. She said angrily, "This is a lie! My father is Amrit Prakash!" But when she saw the diary and the will, tears came to her eyes.

A few days later, a call came from Pakistan - Ranveer's son said, "Father kept Suman's photo safe till his death. His last wish was that Surabhi should get these letters."

It was written in the letter: "Sorry daughter... I did not have the courage to tell you the truth.

I had to stay away from you all my life. It was my compulsion. Because I truly loved your mother. We both were about to get married but some circumstances were such that we had to stay apart for the rest of our lives. My daughter, later your mother got married to Amrit and I did not want to bring any storm in her life. But my love will always remain for both of you. This time a teardrop fell from mother's eyes.

Love has no boundaries... neither land nor blood relations.