Rudra's Plan — Not Grand, But True
Rudra didn't want flash.He didn't want public proposals, cameras, or a big stage.
He wanted something real.
So, he reached out to the only two people who knew both of them by heart — Simran and Aarav.
"She doesn't like surprises," Rudra said.
Simran smirked, "She doesn't like bad surprises."
"Then let's make it a poetic one," Aarav added.
The plan:A midnight picnic at the same spot in the old Delhi fort ruins where Ruhi once confessed she loved stars more than people.
No crowd.Just moonlight, her diary, and a single question he'd been rehearsing since Spain.
📞 A Call from the Past — Ruhi's World Shakes
That morning, Ruhi received an unknown number.
The voice on the other end was soft, trembling.
"Is this… Ruhi Sharma?"
"Yes. Who's calling?"
"I'm… Meera. I knew your mother before she passed."
Ruhi's heart dropped.
The name stirred something—something her father had hidden all her life.
Meera was her mother's childhood friend, estranged by a long-forgotten argument.
"I just wanted you to know," Meera continued, "your mother… she used to write poetry too. Fierce, brave poems. You sound like her."
For the rest of the day, Ruhi couldn't breathe properly.Not because she was sad.
But because for the first time,she felt like she came from somewhere strong.
🌌 The Night Unfolds — Silent Steps to Forever
At exactly 11:45 p.m., Aarav blindfolded Ruhi.
"Is this safe?" she asked, laughing nervously.
"You trust me?"
"With snacks, yes."
He guided her up the stone path. Simran walked beside them, carrying a basket of tea, fairy lights, and Ruhi's favorite chocolate chip muffins.
They reached the old fort's rooftop.
Ruhi removed her blindfold.
The scene:A circle of fairy lights.Her diary placed in the center.The sky clear and wide.And Rudra — standing at the edge, slightly limping, holding a ring box in his hand.
💫 The Proposal — No Script, Just Soul
He didn't kneel.
He just stepped forward, took her hand, and said:
"We've been enemies, friends, idiots, lovers… and sometimes all four in one day.
You once said you weren't sure you were made for grand love stories.But Ruhi — you are the story.
I don't have the right words.But I have the right heart.
Will you marry me?Not for the fairytale —But for the morning chai fights, the quiet bus rides, and every poem we haven't written yet?"
Ruhi's eyes blurred.
She took the ring, slid it onto her own finger, and whispered:
"Only if you promise to be in the acknowledgments of my next book."
He smiled."That's a yes?"
She kissed him.
That was her answer.
📖 Beyond the Buzzer – Page 187
"Some proposals don't echo.They land softlyLike a poem you've read a hundred timesAnd still find something new in."
🌍 Simran's New Horizon — An Invitation from the World
Days later, Simran received an email with a gold seal.
Subject:"You Are Invited: International Women's Literature Summit — Paris 2026"
They wanted her to speak.
Not just read.Speak.About how small voices rise in big cities.About how rural girls, ink-stained and unheard, write their way into survival.
She stared at the email.And then at Aarav.
"Will you come with me?"
"I'd go to Pluto for you," he said, without thinking.
Then paused.Because he had a secret too.
🏙️ Aarav's Crossroads — Delhi or Mumbai?
Aarav had been offered a position with a national youth sports federation in Mumbai.
Double the pay.Twice the impact.A dream role.
But it meant leaving Delhi.And Simran.
And the poems written in cheap cafés.
He hadn't told her yet.
Because he didn't know how to say:
"What if our love needs two cities to grow?"
📓 Beyond the Buzzer – Page 188
"Lovers don't always walk in the same direction.Sometimes they meet halfwayWith suitcases full of dreams they haven't unpacked yet."
📷 The Moment That Froze in Time
Aarav took a photo that night.
Ruhi and Rudra — sitting on the fort wall, her hand in his, ring glinting under starlight.
Simran — barefoot, dancing to an imaginary rhythm.
The caption on his post:
"You don't need a stage to find forever.Just the right people, under the right sky."
💫 End of Chapter 38