In the quiet town of Amritsar, where the air was perpetually scented with the sweet aroma of blooming lilacs, lived a man named Rahul. RAHUL was a man of few words, with a stoic demeanor that belied a tumultuous ocean of emotions beneath his calm exterior. His hair, peppered with gray, was always neatly combed back, and his eyes held a quiet sadness that was as much a part of him as the town itself. His marriage to Sakshi had been a cornerstone in his life, but in recent years it had become a silent fortress, the warmth of love replaced by a solemn understanding.