Will u still love me pdf download

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They have a certified translation team that keeps adding a quality range of eBooks in their database. Rajveer has to stand up against his own if he and Lavanya are to be together. However, life has other plans. Things go horribly wrong and Rajveer now has to fight a different battle-one in which he is the devil as well as the deliverer. His love for Lavanya will be put to the ultimate test. The university is commemorating road safety week. An entire batch of first year students has gathered in there to hear the two men who are going to present a talk.

After all, who wants a lecture on road safety? It is so uncool, so unsexy. However, first year students have limited say in things and therefore against their wishes, they have been forced to attend the session. Please raise your hand. After a brief murmur, every single hand went up in the air including the two people on the stage.

The two men looked at each other and gave the students time to look around them and see the show of hands. The person on the stage then followed with his next question, which again led to a full house of raised hands, only this time, they went up in the air hesitantly, awkwardly and definitely not happily. Shalini, her best friend and the bride-to-be for whom Lavanya had come all the way from Mumbai to Chandigarh, jumped from her chair when she heard her friend scream.

The two girls stood stunned for a moment. Kisi de luggage naal replace ho gaya hovega. We came straight to this room after parking our car!

She wanted to make sure at least that was the right one. There was a laptop, a pair of jeans and a set of pyjamas right on top. In one corner of the bag she found a big envelope that was bulging with something. By then Lavanya had verified that her other bag was the right one. How is that possible? In the meantime, Shalini started looking into the fat envelope to see what was in it.

Lavanya also looked at it wide-eyed. This was a lot of money! Something would have to be done. And quickly. On his way from the Chandigarh airport to Patiala, Rajveer was left dumbstruck when he opened the trolley bag placed next to him in the car. He wanted to look at the cloth swatches which he had got from a few wholesalers in Mumbai. As soon as they stopped, Rajveer frantically checked the bag from outside.

He looked at his watch. It had been more than forty-five minutes since his car had left the airport. Chetti kar hun! Make it fast now.

Rajveer panicked recalling the cash he had in his bag. He knew there were exactly 3. He tried to recall his walk out of the aircraft. Where could the bag be? The vehicle was now on its way back to the Chandigarh airport.

He had the bag with him all the time. He thought immediately about Lavanya. Could it be? He looked in further to find out if he could get a clue about the owner. There was a strong possibility that the owner of this bag would have his one, he believed.

Underneath the lehenga—choli, he fumbled with a jewellery bag, a phone charger, a transparent make-up kit that had plenty of colourful items in it, a designer green dupatta, with a lot of intricate stone work on it, a pair of party sandals, a perfume, a white hand towel and a pair of navy-blue polka-dotted lingerie—at the sight of which he could not hold himself back from recalling Lavanya one more time. Rajveer quickly thought of something and checked the lock code of the bag.

It was set to the default She ran and locked the bedroom door from inside lest anybody in a house full of relatives noticed it. The thought of an unknown guy peeking into her bag made her terribly uncomfortable. I meant any valuables? All that is in my purse. Just that the lehenga in it is a bit expensive. They scanned the entire file and searched all pockets of the bag to find any contact details.

But their efforts went in vain. After more discussion, the ladies in the room arrived at the conclusion that Rajveer had more to lose than Lavanya and therefore it was possible that he was frantically trying to find his bag. Lavanya thought hard if her bag, which probably was now with Rajveer, had anything in it that would carry her contact details, so that there was a possibility of him giving her a call. Nothing registered in her panicked mind. Her concern was that she now had nothing to wear for the occasion that was due in a few hours!

She comforted her with all the available options they had in their hands. There was no time to lose. It was an unknown number. Everyone went silent. Hope fluttered in every heart. Lavanya quickly took the call. The mother—daughter duo listened in rapt attention to her end of the conversation. I am Lavanya Gogoi. Did you find my bag?

Yes, I had exchanged my seat with somebody who was at 3F. His name is Rajveer. I have his bag. And I believe he has mine. Do you have any information on this luggage exchange? The lock code was set to. Maybe that guy has. I was telling you that my bag.

It appears you two have got your cabin luggage bags exchanged while getting off the aircraft. The next voice that Lavanya heard was that of Rajveer. Shalini and her mother continued to anxiously look at Lavanya as her tense facial expressions made way for some cheer. Shalini sighed with relief and fell on to the bed, relaxed.

Meanwhile, Lavanya continued with the conference call. The airline representative updated Lavanya that it was indeed Rajveer who had reached out to her via their customer care cell. She further stated that as both Rajveer and Lavanya had stepped out of the airport periphery, and their respective bags too were not left back at the airport, her role was limited to facilitating a call between the two.

Just before the conference call got over, the airline representative made both Lavanya and Rajveer share their respective contact details with each other. From there on, they were supposed to take things forward by themselves.

When Rajveer shared his number, Lavanya dictated it to Shalini to note it down. He must be dialling my number —she thought. She tried to wait for a while and then try again, but anxiety got the better of her. In less than a minute, she redialled. It turned out to be busy yet again. That very moment she received a message on her WhatsApp.

What kind of name is this? It was Rajveer. She could see from his display pic. It was happy relief after the panic which had lasted for a while. She bit her lower lip as she typed—OK—and added a little smiley after it. But what I just said is the literal meaning.

The contextual meaning is—one who is not too modern in his taste, attire, style, etc. Those who we also call desi. An already long drive, which was now going to be way longer than anticipated, had left him exhausted.

Yet, he was at peace ever since Lavanya had assured him that his cash was safe. Just take care of my bag. They had to fix the time and place for exchanging their bags and Rajveer had volunteered to go to her and personally hand over.

In her mind, Lavanya had pictured her lingerie in the bag with Rajveer. He would have seen it! Rajveer had no clue why she had reacted that way. Reality was just the opposite. The bag had been left open in all its glory and Rajveer continued to look at it while he spoke. I would appreciate that.

And how could she not? It is worth as much as your cash. And, how can you say that? I sell clothes. She bit her tongue. I am in a panic mode. All that I was supposed to wear is in that bag. And I need it as soon as possible. Please understand. He asked Lavanya not to worry and that he would try his best to reach her as soon as possible.

The front wall decorated with multicoloured lights seemed to announce the happiness of the family to the outside world. Soon there were more cars behind his. He was glad he had a driver along with him.

He waited for her to return his call, while the driver moved his car ahead to find a spot at the other end of the road. Rajveer looked around the house. In spite of the forthcoming celebrations, the surroundings were quiet. It was the pleasant silence just before the festivities were to begin. He shared an occasional smile with a few of them but largely he stood alone waiting for Lavanya to call him back. Not willing to keep standing there any more, Rajveer looked through the gap between the giant metallic doors.

The long, cemented pavement to the bungalow inside was also decorated with flowers and lights. After failing to reach Lavanya for a second time, he decided to walk in.

In no time, they broke into a traditional wedding song complete with beats on a dholak while more ladies joined in with rhythmic clapping and cheering. And then it ended in one big laugh before the group moved on to the next folk song. To his right, attached to the house, surrounded by a hedge, was a huge lawn that had been transformed into the sangeet area.

Under a colourfully lit gazebo the ladies of the house sat on the carpeted and well-cushioned ground and sang. There were a good number of men too who chose to either stand or sit on the chairs kept around the music area.

A dance floor with overhead lights and a DJ console were set up in the left corner. It was dull for the time being. The caterers had occupied the extreme right corner where their work of preparing food and snacks was progressing in full swing behind a square tent.

One could feel the enthusiasm in the air. In their beautiful clothes, the guests in the house radiated happiness. There was much bantering and joking.

Conscious of his surroundings, Rajveer checked his own clothes and discreetly tucked his shirt into his jeans. He felt awkward to be the uninvited guest, barging into a party and staring at the females in the gathering, but he had no choice. His missed calls had not been responded to yet. He turned left and right to figure out the source of the voice.

When he looked back, a smile spread on his lips on seeing Lavanya rushing towards him. At that moment, he felt she would hug him. The situation demanded it. That is what would follow in films, but nothing of that sort happened. I am sooo damn late too! Till minutes back Lavanya was busy getting Shalini ready and had left her handset in her bedroom. I will have to rush. Give me a moment! The way things had unfolded, Rajveer was left disappointed. He had expected a warm gesture at least from Lavanya if not the family hosting the celebrations.

In his mind, he was the hero in the movie, who had rescued the most prized possession of his girl. His act deserved an applause. Standing there alone, he realized how everyone was busy in their own things.

He pulled out his phone to call her, but it was busy. Hell man! A few minutes passed. He tried dialling her number again. The line continued to be busy. He felt frustrated standing there like an uninvited person in a moving crowd of fifty-odd people who were already on a high. He looked for a chair to sit but found none that was not already taken. Travel and the long drives had already left him exhausted. All he wanted to do was to grab his luggage and get out of that place.

At the first opportunity, when a heavyweight uncle vacated a chair to get himself some more tangaddi kebab, Rajveer grabbed the seat. People walked beside him. The ones who were seated next to him noticed him and wondered who he was. He stuck out as the odd one. The aroma of chicken tikka and seekh kebab had mingled in the enjoyably cold February air of Chandigarh. It wafted from the tandoor, which blazed red-hot in the night as if it held volcanic lava in its womb.

The starters moved from the catering bay set up on the extreme right of the lawn to the gathering. There was booze to keep the spirits high. One by one, all the food and drinks being circulated stopped by Rajveer. Nobody should be empty-handed—the waiters had been instructed. Hence, Rajveer was also being served. Gatecrashing a party was never his thing. The poor chap humbly kept declining every time he was offered anything to eat or drink. After a point he was so bored of declining that he felt holding on to something might keep the waiters away.

He grabbed a water bottle. One elderly Sikh gentleman in his deep-blue turban and black suit, holding a glass in his hand noticed him looking here and there.

He approached Rajveer with a smile and asked who he was. Rajveer stood up and introduced himself with his name. Just then the DJ on the other side of the lawn took over from the ladies who were singing one after the other but the songs had been going down in quality. She is a sweet child. Applause and loud cheering followed. Acknowledging the DJ and the folks around him, the old man, who was already in high spirits, happily raised his half-filled glass in the air.

Rajveer tried to release himself from his grip. But he failed. Try again. Rajveer tried to speak. But his pleading voice was drowned by the cheering and loud music. In an unknown gathering he was dragged by a man whose happiness, influenced by alcohol, had made him follow his impulse. With his one hand up in the air and the other holding his drink, the old man danced with all his heart.

People gathered around them in a circle and cheered. Most of the audience consisted of the ladies who were freshly bored from singing and were now looking forward to dancing. When they looked at him, Rajveer faked a smile but could not retain it.

Made to dance with an unknown man twice his age, Rajveer felt extremely uncomfortable. To add to his misery people had begun to toss hundred-rupee notes over his head. Humiliation has a tipping point, beyond which it fails to have any effect. Rajveer had arrived at such a point. He was beyond embarrassed now. He stopped a waiter who was passing by the DJ area and picked a glass of whisky from the tray.