A story from Tarini’s Journal — where love, beauty, and happiness quietly bloom…
The sky was blushing, just like her heart.
It was one of those evenings when the wind spoke softly and the light hung low — golden and gentle, like a memory wrapped in silk. Tarini stood beneath the whispering tree, her dress catching the last rays of the sun like petals in twilight. The air was scented with wild grass, faint laughter, and the promise of something beautiful.
She laid out the tea — two cups, like always. One for her, one for him.
He hadn’t arrived yet. But that never mattered.
Because love, to her, was never about clocks or calendars.
It was about presence. Soulful presence. And she felt him everywhere — in the warmth of the teapot she held close to her heart, in the silence that wasn’t empty, but full of waiting.
As she poured the tea, her fingers trembled — not from cold, but from the emotion of holding something sacred. This wasn’t just tea. It was memory steeped in hope. A ritual of devotion. An act of quiet love under an open sky.
She looked up at the glowing horizon — threads of peach, lavender, and gold weaving across the canvas of dusk. The fairy lights above twinkled softly, like stars that had come a little closer, just to watch them.
And there, in the hush between two heartbeats, she felt him.
Maybe not in form, but in essence.
She smiled.
He was always on time — not by the world’s clock, but by the soul’s.
And tonight, like every night, they sipped together in silence —
two souls, one moment, infinite love.
“Some evenings don’t need words… just a teacup, a sunset, and the echo of someone your soul still sits beside.”
