Ram didn't ask for these dreams.
They just… came.
Soft as snowfall.Sharp as memory.
In every dream,she stood there the girl with warmth in her eyes and silence full of meaning.
He didn't know her name, but something deep within whispered it again and again:
Sita.
He'd never been loved.Never been truly known.But in his dreams he belonged to someone to her.
On the other side of the border,
Princess Noor Jahan held a pen in hand.
She signed her letters with "Sita" for fun at least, that's what she told herself.
But each night,
when her eyes fluttered shut, she saw a man.
A soldier.And her fingers felt the trace of a hand she'd never held.
She called it coincidence.
Until one night,she didn't write a letter…
And still the dreams came.
Ram, who'd always doubted fate, now clung to it.
His mind couldn't explain, but his heart didn't care.
That girl that Sita she wasn't just fantasy.
She was memory.
Etched in something older than this life.
And every night, when he drifted to sleep, his soul ran home to her.
Slowly, their hearts began to bend to the unseen.
Ram whispered her name in sleep.
Sita woke up with tears, not from sadness…
but from the ache of missing someone she never remembered meeting.
Were they mad?Delusional?
Or…
Were they rememberinga story fate had once paused—but never ended?