Dil Ki Bandagi (Early Acess Ch 39)

💌 Want to read Chapter 40 early? Subscribe now and get exclusive early access! New chapters drop on any random day at 9pm.
Now, let’s dive into the story!

*****

✨ Chapter 39: The Lesson Begins

It had been a week.

The city was still too loud. The window still refused to open properly. But the cold cement floor didn’t sting quite as sharply anymore. The scratchy bedsheet had softened, or maybe Aarti had simply stopped noticing.

Each morning, Raghav left for work with a promise in his eyes:I’ll come back soon. We’ll figure this out.
And each evening, he returned—sometimes with a fresh packet of milk, sometimes with samosas, always with a quiet smile that said, I didn’t forget you today.

They had started carving a rhythm out of the chaos. Slow, uneven, but theirs.

That evening, as the golden light slipped through the cracked window and danced across the faded wall, Raghav sat cross-legged on the floor. Aarti hesitated at the doorway.

He looked up. “Come. Let’s start.”

Aarti blinked. “Start…?”

Raghav patted the spot next to him. “Your studies. You wanted to read, didn’t you?”

Aarti’s breath caught. She hadn’t brought it up again—not since that morning she cried, asking for water and saying she wanted to go home. She thought maybe he had forgotten. Or maybe he was waiting. Or maybe…

She sat beside him, her heart thudding softly. “You mean… now?”

He smiled, a small curve of the lips. “Why not now?”

No more resistance. No more nervous glances toward the door. No whispers or caution in his voice. Just space. Just him and her and a stack of yellowed notebooks he’d brought home for her.

Raghav picked up a pencil and held it out to her. “Let’s begin with letters. You still remember your swar (vowels)?”

Aarti shook her head, embarrassed. “A little. From when Aarav tried to teach me. I forgot most. But when you did, I caught up a little.”

“That’s okay. We’ll start again.” He gently moved the notebook in front of her. “अ for…?”

“अनार (Anar),” she whispered.

He grinned. “Exactly. अनार—(pomegranate)”

His finger traced the letter "अ" in the air, slow and patient. She copied it—awkward, a little shaky. He didn’t correct her right away. He just watched.

“You don’t have to rush,” he said. “We have time now.”

Aarti nodded, biting her lip as she drew the next letter: "आ." This wasn’t like her village. There, she had to snatch stolen minutes between chores, scared of someone catching her. Here, it was just the two of them. The quiet hum of the fan. The distant sounds of a city that no longer scared her quite as much.

They went through the vowels one by one:
“इ for इमली (imli),” Raghav said.
“Tamarind,” Aarti repeated softly.

"उ for उल्लू,” he added, grinning.
Aarti laughed. “Ullu? You’re calling me ullu?” (A slang for dumb)

“Never,” he smirked, nudging her gently.

At some point, she looked up. “It’s so hard,” she said quietly, in Hindi. "I don't know if I can do this."

Raghav tilted his head. ““It’ll get easier. With time, you’ll read fluently—you'll see. Don’t worry, you’re doing great.”

His eyes softened. Aarti smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. She had never felt so encouraged before. With Raghav by her side, the words no longer felt foreign. They were becoming hers.

She looked down at the letters on the page. Her name. His name. Written side by side in pencil:
आरती। राघव। (Aarti Raghav)

She swallowed, emotion catching in her throat.

“Thank you?”

He shrugged. “For what?”

She bit her lip, searching. “For being patient with me. For believing in me. For fighting for my dreams with me." She hides her smile. "Thank you… for not laughing when I forgot ‘आ’... and for waiting.”

Raghav patted her head gently. “I'll always be there with you. I’ll always be here with you.”

Aarti smiled. For the first time since arriving, it wasn’t forced. She truly felt loved. Supported.

Outside, someone was shouting about onions in the street. The city hadn’t grown quieter.

But something inside her had.

She looked back at the notebook.

“Teach me again,” she whispered.
Teach me again.
“This time… I’ll remember.”

💌 Author's Note

Hey, my loves. 🪷

This is where it truly begins.

Mixing Hindi and English in this chapter was a delicate balance — I wanted Aarti’s learning to feel real while keeping it accessible for all of you. If it felt a little unfamiliar, I hope that just makes you feel a bit of what Aarti does: stepping into something new, unsure, and brave.

Not just the letters. Not just the learning. But the quiet blooming of Aarti’s confidence in a language and life that once felt impossible.

Chapter 39 is about hope with roots. About a girl learning to say “अनार” instead of just “A for Apple.” It's about a man saying, "I'm here"—not in big words, but in small actions.

Raghav’s no longer hesitant.
Aarti’s no longer silent.
They’re beginning—together.

👉 What was your favorite Hindi word in this chapter?
👉 Did you feel Aarti’s shift—that moment when the language stopped being a wall and started becoming a bridge?

✨ And to all the ullus out there like me—learning slowly, doubting often, but trying anyway—I see you. You’re doing just fine.

Drop a comment ⬇️
Share the word that made you smile.
And of course—drop a 🖋️ if you believe in learning, love, and second chances.

With all my heart,
Shaar Shree 💌

P.S. Want early access? 💌 Hit subscribe and be the first to see what’s next for Aarti and Raghav. You know I love sharing secrets early with my favs 💕