#ippknd

Chapter 1

May 1998, Bangalore

The hum of the dial-up internet still echoed in 16-year-old Khushi’s ears as the cyber café finally sprang to life.  This was her weekly escape. When things got stifling between Amma and Appa, Khushi ran to this hidden corner of the world. Tucked away from the humdrum of burgeoning Bangalore, the café was a safe haven—a small cubicle with a plastic chair, a flickering monitor, and the thrill of connecting with people miles away. 

She drummed her fingers on the desk, glancing at the timer on the computer screen—50 minutes left of her prepaid hour. Anytime now, she thought, the minutes ticking louder in her mind. 

She leaned forward in her chair, squinting at the glowing screen. They had a rhythm, she and Skybound. He always showed up five minutes after her, like clockwork. And today, just as expected there it was—the familiar sound she had been waiting for, the uh-oh of ICQ, signaling a new message. The chat room opened, and a message blinked at her from an anonymous familiar visitor. No names exchanged.. Just conversation. A secret she indulged in every week.

She smiled. This stranger was becoming her favorite part of the week.

Skybound: Back again, I see. Couldn’t resist the allure of my charming personality, could you?

Khushi bit back a smile, fingers flying across the keyboard.

OceanBreeze:Oh, don’t flatter yourself. I just needed a distraction from my boring life. Figured I can use a laugh.

There was a pause, the cursor blinking as she waited for his reply. All she knew was that he was from somewhere up north, but beyond that, he was a mystery. And it didn’t matter—this was the one place where she didn’t need to explain herself or carry the weight of everything happening in the real world.

Skybound: A laugh? I’m always here to serve. Need me to trip over something?

She exhaled a soft giggle. For a moment, she glanced around the café, her lips caught between her teeth, suddenly self-conscious. Laughing in public wasn’t something she did often—it was something Amma would find out of place. Here though, with Skybound, she didn’t have to hide.

OceanBreeze: Oh, please. You sound too coordinated for that. I bet you’re the type who walks in slow motion while everyone else stumbles.

Skybound: You got me. But it’s not my fault. The universe just gave me the gift of looking good from every angle.

OceanBreeze: Wow. Humble too, I see.

Skybound: What can I say? When you have your sisters constantly criticizing your every move, you’ve got to boost your own ego. It’s survival.

Khushi rolled her eyes, though a grin tugged at her lips. His humor had a way of easing the heaviness she carried.

OceanBreeze: So how many sisters do you have, anyway?

Skybound: Three sisters. Why, you want one?

Khushi burst out laughing in the quiet café, earning a few glances from the other cubicles. She quickly typed back.

OceanBreeze: Three sisters? You’re living in a circus, not a house!

Skybound: You have no idea. They run my life. I just exist in their kingdom, like a court jester trying not to get fired.

OceanBreeze: Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re holding your own pretty well. three sisters and a sense of humor? You must be some kind of superhero.

Skybound: I’ll take that as a compliment. But you — appears no siblings at all? Seems a bit too quiet. Doesn’t it get lonely? You can certainly have some of mine, free trial.

Khushi paused for a moment, the cursor blinking at her. Lonely. It wasn’t something she thought about often, but there was a truth in the word that made her pause. She brushed it off, typing quickly before the feeling settled in.

OceanBreeze: Sounds like a good trade to me! How about you take my Chikkamma for a week, and I’ll take your sisters?

Skybound: Deal! But I warn you, they might try to turn you into their personal doll. Are you ready for glitter and fashion critiques?

OceanBreeze: As long as I get out of the cooking lectures, I’m game!

Skybound: Just remember, once you step into their world, there’s no escape. I might be the handsome prince, but I’m still trapped in their castle!

Khushi laughed, shaking her head. She could almost picture him now—some guy with an easy grin, confident in a way that wasn’t obnoxious but just enough to make her wonder.

OceanBreeze: And here I thought you were living the glamorous life.

Skybound: Glamorous? Me? Ha. My life’s a mix of tea breaks and avoiding household chores. But hey, it’s a peaceful existence.

OceanBreeze: Tea and avoiding chores sounds a lot like heaven to me right now.

Skybound: Oh yeah? What’s got you running from home today?

Khushi paused for a second. She could feel the cool Bangalore breeze through the café’s windows, and the hint of rain in the air seemed to match her mood. The silence between her and Amma at home had been growing louder, and escaping to the café was the only way to breathe.

OceanBreeze: Same old. Amma wants me to be more responsible, Appa wants me to study harder..

The cursor blinked as she pressed send. Skybound's reply came swiftly.

Skybound: Ah, the classic. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m supposed to be peeling vegetables right now.

Khushi could imagine it now—this mysterious boy somewhere in a bustling household, juggling demands from three sisters while plotting his own small rebellions. It felt surreal, talking to someone she’d never seen but could picture so clearly in her mind.

OceanBreeze: I knew it! The glamorous life. Next thing you’ll tell me is you’re also a master chef.

Skybound: Nope. But I can manage pretty decent pakoras without setting the kitchen on fire. Does that count?

OceanBreeze: Impressive. A man of many talents.

Skybound: What can I say? I aim to surprise. But what about you? Any secret talents?

OceanBreeze: Hah. I wish. Mostly I’m just trying to survive the week without upsetting Amma and Chikkama.

Skybound: Well, you made it here. That’s gotta count for something. Plus, you’ve got me for company. That’s a win, right?

Khushi’s smile softened. His words wrapped around her like a warm blanket, easing the tension in her shoulders. He had no idea how much she needed this, this simple escape into lighthearted banter, a world where she didn’t have to carry the weight of her family’s expectations.

OceanBreeze: Yeah. I guess that’s something. Your simple life sounds like the kind of escape I need.

Skybound: Who knew avoiding chores could be so inspiring? You should try it sometime.

OceanBreeze: Maybe I will. But for now, I’ll just live vicariously through your peaceful existence.

Skybound: My peaceful existence is here for your entertainment, any time.

She laughed again, the sound softer this time. There was something about him—his mix of devilish charm and simplicity—that made her feel lighter, like the weight she carried wasn’t so heavy when they talked.

OceanBreeze: Thanks for that. You have no idea how much I needed this tonight.

Skybound: You’re welcome. Anytime you need a break from your perfect-daughter-niece duties, you know where to find me.

OceanBreeze: I’ll hold you to that.

There was a comfort in their banter, a lightness that made Khushi forget the weight of the day. She didn’t know his name, or anything about him beyond these fragments, but it didn’t matter. In this space, she didn’t need to. It was like slipping into another world, where nothing mattered except the words on the screen and the connection they formed.

Skybound:Well, stranger, until next time, then?

Khushi smiled, her fingers tapping lightly on the keys as she sent her final message.

OceanBreeze: Until next time.

Khushi smiled, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Talking to Skybound felt like slipping into a different world, one where she didn’t have to pretend, didn’t have to hold back. Maybe that’s why, after all these months, she hadn’t asked for his name or shared hers. It was safer this way—letting him remain a mystery, just like she was to him. And yet, week after week, she returned. She couldn’t quite explain why, but something about him made her feel understood in a way that no one else did.

She logged off, the café’s hum fading as she stepped outside into the humid Bangalore night.

>>Chapter 2

Also on Blog here

So I've been missing from this account for months but then I watched Bridgerton (I know I'm extremely late) only beacuse I have been so intrigued with Kate and Anthony for months but have only found the time to be obsessed now. So after binging all of season 2 in one day, I was a mess. And after analysing and rewatching I realized how similar they are to Arnav and Khushi.

THEIR INITIALS???? A+K

Enemies/rivals to lovers despite being enthralled with each other since their very first meeting

THEY LITERALLY MAKE EACH OTHER HAPPIER THAN ANYONE ELSE CAN AND WILL

THE SEXUAL TENSION AND CHEMISTRY

THEY FLIRT LIKE THEY'RE COMPLETELY UNHINGED IN FRONT OF PEOPLE MIGHT I ADD

PTSD Y'ALL (also why did I just realise that you can hear their heartbeats, aka dhak dhak, in the scene above???)

Kate's backstory and how she feels she owes her life to her mother and sister because Mary is her stepmother vs how Khushi feels she owes everything to her Amma (who is her Massi) and her family and they believe they don't deserve love (I'm trying not to cry here)

Arnav and Anthony have their respective family's responsibility solely on their shoulders

Arnav and Anthony never really got over their trauma and so suffer from PTSD after losing a parent and so stop believing in love go from children pulling jokes to broody arrogant idiots (I don't think I can stop the tears any longer).

So do Kate and Khushi but Kate's is not touched upon enough in the show

This often makes them lose their mind if they think they're close to losing the one they love.

PLEASEEE Both Kate and Khushi suffered from extreme head injuries from a fall and both Anthony and Arnav see blood on their hands and ultimately save their lives

HANDSSSSS

BANGLES

Long looks of YEARNING

DANCING

Arnav and Anthony both propose marriage to the one they are courting/dating literally the day after almost kisses with Khushi and Kate respectively (I STAN THE BIGGEST IDIOTS)

Somehow it's always the siblings tying them together lol

Daphne = Anjali.

STANDING UP TO THE FAMILIES FOR THEM

The banter and competitiveness is unmatched

Literally all of them are so sexy

Nani = Violet and Lady Danbury

Haldi being applied to Kate and Khushi despite it not being their weddings to signify soulmatism

Y'all these peeps deserve to go to HORNY JAIL

Prologue

2007, Kutch Desert

Miles of dark pathways stretched endlessly, the rhythmic hum of the Karnavati Express  merging with the quiet murmurs of the night. Even the cattle resting on the fields seemed undisturbed, lulled by the gentle rumble passing through the dusk. Khushi lay on her berth, her gaze drifting out the small train window. It was a cloudy night, but she searched for her star—the one she always looked for, the one that never let the darkness swallow it whole.

Yet tonight, the sky held no answers. No familiar flicker greeted her. Perhaps her star, always bright in the southern skies of Karnataka, was hidden here in the northern peninsula. There was an eerie quietness outside, the kind that pressed into her thoughts, forcing her to listen. The air was thick with humidity, a dampness that clung to her skin, soothing the dryness she had felt traveling through the arid lands of Kutch. It was a strange comfort, one she hadn’t expected.

But still, her star eluded her.

The stillness of the night became a soundboard for the thoughts that drifted in uninvited, stirring beneath her calm exterior. Her heart felt heavier than usual tonight, weighed down by an invisible burden she couldn’t quite name. Maybe it was the silence, or maybe it was something more—a longing, a quiet ache, the kind that only surfaces when the world around you slows down enough to let you feel it.

She let out a soft breath, her fingers tracing the cool metal edge of the window. Perhaps the quiet was welcome after all, a gentle reminder that even in the midst of motion, there are moments where everything stops. Just for a while.

She didn’t know when she slipped into the quiet depths of sleep, the gentle sway of the train rocking her into oblivion. But tonight, in the shadows of her dreams, a familiar baritone whispered in her ear, soft yet aching: “Please don’t do this, Kishmish. I won’t be able to live.”

The words hit her like a wave, and suddenly, the ache she thought had dulled over time surged violently, flooding her soul. It pulled her into its depths, dragging her down, deeper and deeper. She knew she was dreaming—she had to be. That voice had been lost to her long ago. Her conscious mind recognized the loss, tried to remind her that this was only a fragment, a ghost of the past. But even knowing it was a dream couldn’t protect her from the agony that now consumed her.

The dream wrapped its hands around her heart, tightening with every passing second. She could feel it—the suffocating weight pressing on her chest, the air growing thicker, her lungs gasping for breath that wouldn’t come. Panic clawed at her throat, and no matter how hard she tried to pull herself free, her body remained paralyzed, trapped beneath the crushing force of that old pain.

The voice—the pleading, desperate voice—played on an endless loop in her mind, reverberating with the power of memories long buried but never forgotten. The words were like shackles, binding her to the past, to the grief she thought she had left behind.

She silently called out to her star, the one that had always guided her through the darkness. Even now, in this dreamscape, she reached for it, her heart yearning for its familiar light. And just when she thought she would drown beneath the weight of her suffering, a glimmer of strength broke through.

The star.

It was faint, a distant spark, but it was enough. She felt its presence in the blackness of her mind, a guiding force that reminded her there was still air to breathe, still life beyond the pain. Slowly, painfully, she clawed her way out of the shadows, breaking through the clutches of her agony. Her lungs filled with breath, her mind shaking free from the suffocating fog.

The whisper faded, its echo dissolving into the darkness, and with it, the crushing weight of the dream began to lift. Yet, something—gentle and unseen—held her just above the abyss, like a fragile tether. Was it her love? The quiet spirit that always lingered within her? Or perhaps her guiding star, faint but unwavering? She didn’t know. But whatever it was, it kept her from slipping away. Slowly, her eyes opened to the stillness of the train, her heart still racing, though the ache had receded into the corners of her soul, a distant shadow.

>>Chapter 1

@arshifiesta

EXCLUSIVE: Sanaya Irani to reunite with Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon makers for a love story; read details

Sanaya Irani who continues to remain popular as Khushi from Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon, a show by 4 Lions Films, is all set to reunite with the dynamic production house but this time for a web show. Sanaya met up with producer Gul Khan recently which left us wondering if there is some good news for the fans. Guess what? It is happening, for real. The untitled show is still in its nascent stage…

So I went to stalk the tag on Twitter after today’s episode of Bepannaah, and girls there have just gone gaga over Aditya, and I read tweets describing today’s AdiYa (Aditya and Zoya ship name) scene as “hawt” and “chemistry setting screens on fire” and all that. 

No, No, and No. People need to realize a few things:

INVADING A WOMAN’S PRIVATE SPACE, PUSHING HER AGAINST THE WALL/LIFT, CAGING HER, BLOCKING HER WAY, INTIMIDATING HER IS NOT HOT (OR AN AMAZING PORTRAYAL OF SEXUAL TENSION ON SCREEN)

You know what is attractive? Giving her the respect that is due. Respecting the concept of private space. Understanding the concept of consent. Not being judgmental and prejudiced. 

In the last few years, to be precise, since the rise of Arnav Singh Raizada in Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon? the ‘angry young man’ trope has been used to justify misogynist assholes. And its just not attractive. But somehow it has caught the imagination of girls, not just in India, but all around the world (going by huge online fandoms). And its okay as long as people understand the difference between real and reel. But it doesn’t seem that way. Last year I read some random tweet where the user said that she wants a guy who would stare at her like Shivaay stares at Anika. I was like, if that happened to me, I would run in the opposite direction. 

This whole “man forcing his way into a woman’s life, who doesn’t want anything to do with him” is just scary, and borderline sexual harassment. Living in a city like Delhi, which is the most unsafe city for women in India, I can tell you that in real life these kind of scenarios are hella traumatic and those men are nothing short of psychotic.  

A lot of people found the lift scene in Bepannaah today really hot. Aditya closing in on Zoya ‘cos the lift kept filling up and getting crowded. Finally he ended up almost caging her, and he clearly noticed her discomfort and said ‘kya kare, lift mein bahut bheed hain’. 

I’ve travelled by buses my entire life, because public transport system in Delhi is pretty convenient and cheap. There are several instances, where men collide you, and most of the times one doesn’t even know whether its intentional or not, because the bus is so crowded. It makes a girl feel vulnerable and no girl wants to feel that. 

The AdiYa scene in the lift reminded me of how girls in Delhi actually move in buses with their elbows out and using their handbags like some sort of shield for their bodies. One can either assume an attitude of aggression (like I do) to keep men away or stop traveling in buses altogether. Sometimes, me and my friend let a few buses go by, and wait for the bus which is relatively empty. Sometimes we are forced to travel in crowded buses, because its getting dark and the city grows more unsafe as darkness creeps in. 

When I see teenage girls liking such scenes as today I actually feel worried. Already the state of safety of women in this nation is a mess. On top of that, daily soaps are romanticizing these forms of sexual intimidation. 

I know its entertainment, entertainment and entertainment for the movies/TV industry. But shouldn’t there also be some responsibility? 

Whats with writers these days? Either its your ‘friendly neighborhood asshole’ or a regressive, rigid guy stuck in the mud. Don’t we have any other kind of male lead? Even if they do show a nice guy for a change like Rehan in Qubool Hai 2, he ends up dead for all his niceness.