The rain didn't fall—it struck. Heavy, furious drops battered the streets, rattling glass and splashing across asphalt, rooftops, and bare branches. The wind tore through Haridwar's narrow alleys like a god's curse, hissing down power lines and sending plastic bags skittering. The city—sacred or not—seemed to shrink beneath the storm's wrath.
Down a deserted street lit only by the flicker of a dying streetlight, a woman staggered on. One bare foot slapped the pavement while the other dragged in a tattered surgical slipper, squelching with every uneven step.
Your support means the world to me. It helps me carve out more time to write, upgrade my tools, and bring you stories that are richer, deeper, and more polished — whether it’s a slow-burn medical romance, a myth-drenched fantasy, or a simple love story that aches quietly. One day, I hope to turn these stories into real books you can hold in your hands. Until then, every little bit of love here keeps the ink flowing, the chaos alive, and the dream going. Thank you for being part of this journey. 💛
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