Violets Quotes

“A six-foot-tall man—likely in his mid-twenties—appeared, effortlessly striking in a black shirt with the top two buttons undone, revealing a slim gold chain resting against the curve of his neck. His Adam’s apple moved with quiet confidence. He wore loose beige trousers held in place by a simple black belt, the look casual yet deliberate. A sleek watch clung to his left wrist, and the sleeves of his shirt were neatly rolled up to his elbows, exposing forearms toned just enough to notice. His hair dense, black, and brushed back, though a few rebellious strands had fallen onto his fore-head, softening the sharpness of his features. His lips—unexpectedly light pink—stood out against his warm wheat-brown complexion. Draped casu-ally over one shoulder was a bag that didn’t quite match the rest of him—delicate, almost feminine. It looked like something that belonged to his mother. He didn’t seem to care; he carried it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“What are you doing here?” he asked to Mohini, looking at Nia with sur-prise. He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze steady.
“Your mom got hit by a suitcase, her knees are bleeding. Can you please ask her to do first aid quickly before it gets worse?” Nia stood up, her words tumbling out fast, her brow slightly furrowed.
“What? You got hurt? How? Show me,” he said, sitting down beside his mother’s knees, his hand gently lifting the fabric to reveal dried blood on her clothes.
“It must be a small scratch. It bled, but it’s stopped now—and see, the blood has hardened,” Mohini said in a casual tone, waving her hand as if to brush away the concern.
“I know it’s not hurting you, but sometimes a small wound changes into something bigger if we don’t look after it at the right time. See, it’s almost time to board—please go to the restroom and wash it out at least. The amount of blood is not that small,” Nia said, standing again as she spoke, bending to grab her bag and finally managing to lift it onto her shoulder.
“Well… thank you for taking care of my mom,” the man said, looking at Nia with deliberate attention, his eyes steady on hers.
“He is my son—Dev,” Mohini introduced, her voice carrying quiet pride.
“Nice to meet you,” Nia said, stepping sideways to leave the table space, her body angled toward the exit.
“It was nice meeting you too, Ma’am. I have to go. Bye,” Nia smiled, giv-ing a small nod before turning away and walking off.”
― Shweta Muduli, Violets: Where Love Blooms Quietly

“She turns a little away from him and looked around the ambience which was decorated full red, must have Dev idea. I didn’t ask anyone to do this – He said quickly to hide his little effort behind decorating his own restau-rant more just for her. Dev stepped closer, his presence pulling the air tighter around them. She turned slightly to face him, eyes lowered, her heartbeat betraying her calm. He waited — patient, steady — until she slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. The world around them disappeared. For a long, suspended moment, it was just the two of them — her shy eyes, his gentle stare, and the electricity humming in the silence. Dev reached out, his hands finding her waist. He pulled her closer, gently, like she might vanish if he moved too fast. She looked down again, her breath trembling. Then, Dev lowered his face, pausing inches away from hers — his lips hovering near hers, close enough to feel her breath. The air thickened be-tween them. Just as he leaned closer, Nia turned away in shyness, breaking the moment. Dev smiled, quietly, not disappointed — just mesmerized.
Nia gripped the railing, her heart racing too fast to speak. Dev stepped forward again, wrapping his arms around her from behind. His hands slid down her arms before settling around her waist, holding her close as he leaned in. The city below still glimmered — but for them, the world had already stopped. Those three hours felt like a dream — a quiet, beautiful fantasy where time moved slower, and her prince made sure she felt every ounce of joy that night could offer.”
― Shweta Muduli, Violets: Where Love Blooms Quietly

“I cannot marry you,” Dev blurted out without a second thought, gently pulling his hand free from hers.
“What?” Divya blinked, surprised.
“I…I can…cannot marry you,” Dev stammered, his voice unsteady.
“Ah… O… Ok.” Divya let out a soft laugh, then smiled. “Well, that’s actu-ally a relief.”
Dev stared at her, confused.
“Actually, that’s why I asked them to let us talk in private,” she explained, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “See, I’ve just started building my career, and there’s still so much I want to do in life. That’s why I don’t want to marry right now.”
Dev kept looking at her, puzzled, trying to process her words.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” she tilted her head at him.
“Ah… I don’t know what to say,” Dev admitted, scratching the back of his neck.
“You just said you don’t want to marry me. That’s true, right?” she pressed.
“Yes,” Dev replied honestly.
“Well then, we both want the same thing.” She chuckled, her tone lighter now.
“Yes,” Dev nodded faintly.
Divya laughed again and looked around the lobby. Spotting a waiter, she lifted her hand slightly and said with ease, “Can we get something to drink?” They took a sip of their drinks, stealing glances at each other but quickly looking away whenever their eyes met. A few minutes passed in silence before Divya finally broke it.
“I’ve told you my reason for not getting married. Will you tell me yours?” she asked, smiling as she looked at him.
“I don’t know,” Dev murmured.
“What? That means you don’t like me?” she teased with a laugh.
“No…” Dev shook his head quickly.
“Don’t worry, I don’t care,” she said lightly, leaning back in her chair.
“I think I’m in love with someone else,” he admitted, his voice soft as his gaze drifted toward the rain-washed city outside.
“Wow… but wait—‘you think’? What does that even mean?” Divya leaned forward, eyes sparking with curiosity.
“I don’t know,” Dev replied, sounding lost, almost weighed down.
“You need a friend,” Divya said firmly.
“What?” Dev frowned, snapping out of his thoughts.
“I can be your friend. Don’t worry, I’ll help you sort it out,” she said with playful confidence.
“What do you even know?” he asked, skeptical.
“Nothing yet… but you’ll tell me,” She said with a mischievous smile.
“Why would I do that?” Dev asked, genuinely curious now.
“Because we’re friends,” she replied as if it was the simplest truth.
“And when did that happen?” he asked, half amused, half bewildered.
“Oh God, you really do need a friend,” she said, rolling her eyes with mock exasperation. She lifted her glass, took the final sip, and added, “Well, you just admitted it today in front of someone. And that someone is me, right?”
Dev looked at her, startled, as if realizing she was right.
“You know,” she said thoughtfully, tapping her chin, “I think I would’ve been a better psychologist than a doctor.”
Dev still stared at her, at a loss for words.
“Am I right?” she asked again, tilting her head, her eyes fixed on him.
“Yes… but how do you know?” he asked slowly.
“I don’t know. I just… felt it,” she said casually with a little shrug.
“So… do you need my help?” she asked, her tone softening.
“Why would you help me?” Dev asked, curiosity clear in his voice.
“Ah! Good question.” She leaned closer, her smile turning playful again. “Well, out of every boy I’ve met, you’re the only one who didn’t give me any trouble.”
“So?” she leaned forward, waiting for his response.
Dev leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yes,” he said simply.
“So, what’s her name?” she asked curiously.
Dev told her a little about Nia—though only on the surface. He admitted that he couldn’t figure out how to start a conversation with her. What he didn’t share was the truth: that he knew almost nothing about her, not even her name—not that he had seen her at the airport while she was helping her mother. Instead, he simply said, “There’s a girl in my building. I’ve liked her since the day I first saw her.”
― Shweta Muduli, Violets: Where Love Blooms Quietly

“Sia narrowed her eyes, studying him. “Are you thinking about someone?” she asked with a teasing grin.
“No,” he replied quickly, almost too quick.
“Are you lying to me?” she pressed, her tone playful but sharp.
“Why would I lie?” Dev countered, trying to sound casual.
“Then tell me, she demanded, crossing her arms.
“Hey, I’m the big brother here. Stop acting like you’re my elder sister,” he snapped, frowning.
Sia smirked. “It’s not about that. You can tell me. I won’t say a word to anyone—promise. And who knows, I might even be able to help,” she said with a sly smile.
Dev scoffed. “Ahh, I don’t need your help,” he replied, waving a hand dismissively.
“Not even for her?” Sia asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
“For who?” Dev asked, trying to sound indifferent, though his voice fal-tered slightly.
“I know there’s a girl,” Sia said confidently, her arms folding tighter.
“Girl? No…” he replied, a little too quickly.
“Okay then, don’t tell me.” Sia shrugged, turning away with a smug smile.
“Wait,” Dev called out, leaning forward.
Sia spun around, eyes wide. “Tell me, tell me, tell me!” she squealed, prac-tically bouncing in place.
“Hey, you little rat…” Dev groaned, rubbing his forehead. “It’s nothing to get excited about. And don’t you dare backstab me, got it?”
“Of course, Bhai,” she said with a mischievous grin, placing a hand dra-matically over her heart.
“The girl who helped Mom… she lives in this very building,” Dev said quietly, glancing around as if someone might overhear.
Sia raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”
“I know,” Dev said a little too loudly.
“How are so sure, it is she?” she pressed, stepping closer.
“Well… I… I just know,” he stammered, his voice fumbling.
Sia squinted at him. “What are you hiding?”
“I… I… you know… I just think Maa didn’t thank her properly. It was kind of rude. So… we should… you know… thank her,” he said, his words tripping over each other, clearly dodging the truth.
“Huh?” Sia looked at him, puzzled. “You’re blushing like a tomato be-cause Maa didn’t say thank you properly?”
“I mean… yes,” Dev muttered, quickly looking away.
Sia rolled her eyes. “Okay, boring. I’m going to sleep,” she said, turning toward the stairs.
“Wait! Listen—don’t tell Maa,” Dev called after her.
“Of course,” Sia replied over her shoulder, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I won’t waste her time like you just wasted mine.” For her, it was her normal brother who gets annoyed when people don’t act kind enough to other. So, for her its clearly no love. And with that, she disappeared down the stairs.”
― Shweta Muduli, Violets: Where Love Blooms Quietly

“With so much success coming so quickly, envy wasn’t far behind. Whispers began to circulate—ugly, baseless rumors that she must have used her beauty to secure big projects. Some claimed she must have done something immoral to catch the attention of Mumbai’s top agencies. What stung most was hearing such things from her own studio colleagues—people who once admired her, who had said they wanted to be like her. So, first thing first, she threw out those people from our circle, from her studio. Nia never let the words take root. They reached her ears, but never her mind. She stayed focused, worked harder, and kept her name clean. Soon, she was counted among a good circle of respected, talented choreographers who valued her dedication, work and decency.”
― Shweta Muduli, Violets: Where Love Blooms Quietly