Asmita
Please Write Another Story
Shiv And Prarthana
The Ending Wasn't Too Rushed I Feel
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Asmita
Please Write Another Story
Shiv And Prarthana
The Ending Wasn't Too Rushed I Feel
It feels almost impossible to pen down a goodbye to something that has become so deeply etched in our hearts. To say farewell to PraShiv is not just saying goodbye to a fictional coupleâit is bidding adieu to a love story that gave us hope, ache, longing, and healing all at once.
Shivansh Randhawaâthe man with fire in his veins and storms in his soul. He walked into our lives as the wounded tycoon, hardened by abandonment, betrayed by the one who should have held him closest, scarred by a childhood spent craving a motherâs embrace. His arrogance was a shield, his cruelty a mask, his coldness a desperate attempt to numb the ache inside. But beneath it all was a broken little boyâyearning to be chosen, to be loved, to belong. Namik brought this contradiction alive with such brilliance that every flicker of his pain, every crack in his façade, every tremor in his voice pierced us like it was real. Shivansh was not just a characterâhe became a hauntingly beautiful reflection of what it means to be human: flawed, vulnerable, yearning, yet capable of immense love.
And then there was Prarthanaâthe gentle storm, the quiet resilience, the girl who carried her scars with grace. She was not extraordinary in power, yet extraordinary in love. She saw what the world failed to see in Shivanshânot the tycoon, not the cold avenger, but the lonely child hiding behind walls of pride and rage. Her love was her rebellion, her faith was her strength, and her compassion became the balm that slowly mended Shivanshâs shattered heart. Pranali, with her soulful eyes and soft vulnerability, made Prarthana the epitome of tenderness and courage, a heroine who healed not by grand gestures, but by simply staying, simply loving, simply believing.
Together, PraShiv were magic. They werenât perfectâno, they stumbled, they broke, they hurt each other, they cried oceans of tears. But isnât that what made them real? Their story wasnât built on convenience or flawless fairytale moments; it was built on storms, on mistakes, on heartbreakâand yet, always, on love. They fought each other, for each other. They burned in pain, yet in that fire, they found a rare kind of belonging. When they smiled together, the world felt lighter; when they held each other, it felt like home.
We often say fictional love stories are an escape, but PraShiv was not just an escapeâthey were a reflection. A reflection of what it means to love someone in their brokenness, to see beauty in scars, to forgive, to fight, to surrender, to heal. Every time Shivanshâs walls crumbled in front of Prarthana, every time her eyes softened for him despite his harshnessâwe were reminded that love, at its core, is not about perfection. It is about choosing each other, again and again, even when the world falls apart.
Yes, the ending might not have given us the closure we longed forâmissing pieces, unspoken truths, unexplored depths. But what remains untouched is the soul of this story. For every rain-soaked night, every whispered confession, every trembling embrace, every tear shedâwe will carry PraShiv with us. They are etched into our hearts, not as a couple bound by a script, but as a symbol of love that hurts, love that heals, love that endures.
And so, with heavy hearts but immense gratitude, we bid farewell. Farewell to the boy who was once abandoned but finally found his home. Farewell to the girl who believed, who healed, who loved with every breath. Farewell to a ship that became a universe of emotions for us all.
đš PraShiv will never end. They live in every memory, every scene replayed, every smile and tear we still carry with us. Because great love stories donât concludeâthey live on in the hearts that believed in them. đš
Thank you, Namik and Pranali, for breathing life into Shivansh and Prarthana. For making us feel, cry, dream, and love alongside them. What youâve created is not just a couple, but a legacy of emotions.
Hereâs to PraShivâforever etched in our hearts. â¤ď¸
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