When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was… clouds.

Not normal clouds, like the ones you see from your terrace. These were too white, too soft, like someone washed them in Surf Excel and hung them to dry. For one second, I thought maybe I fainted in a film shoot. Some director shooting a Heaven scene forgot to shout “cut.”

Then I saw them. People in white gowns, glowing like tube lights, walking slowly as if life was in slow-motion.

“Bas, this is it,” I muttered. “Either I’m in Heaven… or at a really boring fashion show.”

Before I could laugh at my own joke, a deep voice boomed behind me.

“You are not on Earth. You are dead.”

I spun around. A tall man stood with a giant golden book in his hands. Silver eyes. Serious face.

“Dead?!” I yelped. “Excuse me? I just came back from shopping. My mom is waiting at home. And I didn’t even finish my K-drama episode! Who dies like this in the middle of a cliffhanger?”

The man didn’t blink. “I am Lord Ezra. Keeper of Records. You died at 9:47 p.m. Car accident. Internal bleeding. Case closed.”

“Case closed?” I folded my arms. “What am I, a police file? 9:47? Are you sure you opened the right ‘Jaspreet’? Maybe some system error. Even Netflix hangs sometimes. You guys clearly need better Wi-Fi in Heaven.”

Some angels nearby actually giggled. Ezra shot them a glare but I caught their smiles.

“Listen, God ji,” I said, pointing my finger. “I had plans, okay? Three kids, a dog named Simba, one London house. Shaadi toh abhi hui thi. You can’t just stamp ‘game over’ and send me here. I’m not ready.”

Ezra sighed like a tired teacher handling his naughtiest student. He opened his book again. His eyebrows twitched as if something wasn’t matching.

I smirked. “See? Galti ho gayi. Admit it, Ezra ji. Rabba made a mistake.”

He snapped the book shut. “Silence. You are dead.”

“Silence?” I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know me, do you? I’m Jaspreet. Silence and me are from two different planets.”

The angels laughed harder. Ezra’s jaw tightened like he wanted to staple my mouth.

And suddenly.. flash. A memory hit me.

(Flashback)

I was a bride. Red lehenga, heavy dupatta, eyes burning with kajal. My cousins whispered behind me, “Wah Jaspreet, lucky girl! Doctor, NRI, London life!”

I smiled, but it felt painted on.

Then he came. My groom. Dr. Kian. Tall, handsome, everyone’s dream man. Except mine because he didn’t even look at me.

The priest read the mantras. He repeated them like he was dictating a medical prescription. His hand brushed mine. Cold. I slipped my fingers in, hoping he’d hold me. He pulled away casually.

My heart cracked right there, but I told myself: “It’s fine, Jaspreet. He just needs time. One day, he’ll see you.”

But deep inside… I knew he already belonged to someone else.

(Back in Heaven)

The flash faded. My chest hurt.

Ezra looked at me quietly. “You loved him very much.”

I gave a small laugh. “Love? I gave him everything. My yes, my heart. And now you’re saying it’s over with one sentence? Just like that?”

Ezra pressed his forehead like he was already tired of me. “Why do I feel you’ll give me more trouble than the rest of humanity combined?”

I tilted my head and grinned. “Because I’m Jaspreet. Punjab di sherni. Heaven ki entertainment package. Aur mainu koi rok nahi sakda.”

The angels burst out laughing.

And poor Ezra? He already looked like he regretted letting me in.

“Proof.”

That was the first word out of my mouth the next morning in Heaven.

(Yes, apparently souls can sleep. Don’t ask me how. I just closed my eyes on a fluffy cloud, and boom—nap complete. Honestly, Heaven feels less like a holy place and more like a 5-star hotel with unlimited cotton beds.)

Ezra was already waiting, standing tall like a security guard of some VIP office. His silver eyes narrowed at me. “Proof of what?”

“Proof of my death,” I declared, folding my arms. “Show me CCTV footage, death certificate, or whatever receipts you keep in that big golden book of yours. Because until I see with my own eyes, I’m not accepting your ‘game over’ story.”

A few angels standing nearby covered their mouths, trying not to laugh. One of them whispered, “Here we go again.”

Ezra’s jaw tightened. “This is Heaven, not a government office.”

“Exactly!” I shot back. “Which means service should be even better. On Earth, at least they give photocopies. Here, you’re telling me to just believe one line? No, ji. Sorry. I want proof.”

Ezra sighed so loudly the clouds around us almost moved. “You died. Car accident. 9:47 p.m. Internal bleeding. That’s the truth.”

“Arrey, time toh bata diya,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But kya guarantee it was me? Maybe another Jaspreet? Or maybe Selene died instead. Ever thought of that?”

The moment her name slipped out, Ezra’s hand paused on his book. His expression didn’t change, but I caught the flicker. My stomach twisted. Selene.

That shadow who never left my marriage. His first love. My permanent rival.

(Flashback)

The wedding week passed in a blur of rituals and noise, but the first week of marriage stays sharp in my mind. Like a wound that never healed.

We had moved into his London house, a place big enough for five families but cold like an empty hospital.

Kian barely spoke. He slept facing the other side of the bed, his back turned to me like I was just furniture. At meals, he ate silently, his eyes glued to his laptop or phone. If I asked something, he answered with one word. Yes. No. Fine. Good. That was it.

I tried everything. I cooked his favorite food after secretly asking his mother. I told silly jokes while setting the table. I even wore the dresses my cousins had teased me about, hoping he’d at least look once. Nothing worked.

One night, I gathered courage. He was typing something on his laptop, blue light reflecting on his face. My heart pounded but I still asked, “Kian… do you not like this marriage?”

He froze for a second, then looked at me with those distant eyes. “You’re a good girl, Jaspreet. Don’t make it complicated.”

That line sliced through me. Good girl? What was I, his employee? His maid? Not his wife?

I turned away that night, hiding my tears in the pillow. My heart whispered to me, One day, he’ll see you. One day.

But that day never came. Because Selene returned.

(Back in Heaven)

“Hello?” I waved my hand in front of Ezra’s face. “You froze. Thinking about my husband’s ex kya?”

Ezra snapped the book shut. “You ask too many questions.”

“Exactly.” I smirked. “And I’ll keep asking until you admit I’m right. So, Mr. Lord Ezra, bring out the proof. Because until then…” I placed my hand on my chest dramatically, “Jaspreet is alive.”

The angels burst into giggles again. Honestly, I think they enjoyed my daily fights more than any heavenly music.

Ezra muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like, “Why was I assigned this soul?”

I pretended not to hear. Instead, I leaned forward like a detective. “Tell me honestly, Ezra ji… did you maybe mix up the files? Like, instead of deleting spam mail, you deleted me? It happens. Technology issues. Heaven should really upgrade to cloud storage.”

One angel actually choked trying not to laugh.

Ezra finally snapped. “Enough. You are dead. Accept it.”

But my stubborn heart didn’t accept it. How could I? My story on Earth hadn’t even started. My marriage was still half a promise, half a prison. I had dreams, fights, hopes—all unfinished.

I wasn’t ready to close my book.

“Listen, Ezra,” I said softly this time, “maybe you have records. Maybe your book says I’m gone. But I still feel alive. I still feel my heart beating… for him.”

Ezra looked at me for a long moment, something unreadable in his silver eyes. Then he turned away. “Stubborn soul,” he muttered, walking off.

I grinned to myself. “Exactly. Stubborn, silly, loud… and not leaving until I get justice.”

The angels clapped quietly like I’d just won round two of our daily war.

And me? I stood there proudly, knowing one thing for sure—if Heaven thought I’d stay silent, they clearly didn’t know Jaspreet.

“Chalo, Ezra ji. Take me to your office.”

That was the first thing I said the next morning. No hello, no good morning. Straight demand.

Ezra raised his silver eyebrows. “What?”

“Office,” I repeated. “Where you keep all your files, registers, records, whatever. Because I want to see with my own eyes. Maybe you’ve been reading the wrong Jaspreet. It happens.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “This is Heaven, not a bank where you can demand your account statement.”

“Exactly,” I shot back, “then why are you hiding? If you’re so sure I’m dead, show me proof. Nahi toh main yahin dharna pe baithungi.”

Ezra’s forehead vein twitched. For a moment, I swear he looked like a teacher about to call my parents during parent-teacher meeting. The angels in the background had already started whispering bets: “She’ll win again today.”

Finally, he snapped his book shut. “Fine. Come with me. But you’re not allowed to touch anything.”

“Touch?” I grinned. “Ezra ji, I’ll only look. My eyes are enough to find your mistake.”

(The Office)

He led me through endless glowing corridors until we reached a massive hall. Shelves stretched so high they disappeared into clouds. Each shelf had books glowing faintly, like stars stacked in rows.

I stopped, staring. “Bas, this is it. The biggest library I’ve ever seen. Even bigger than Delhi University’s. Waise, do you guys have Wi-Fi here? Because this would be the perfect study spot.”

Ezra ignored me. He marched straight to a desk in the center where a golden book lay open. The name Jaspreet glowed on the page.

He turned the book toward me. “See for yourself.”

I leaned in dramatically. My name. My date of birth. And below that…

Date of Death: 9:47 p.m. Car Accident.

My throat tightened. My name was there, no doubt. But some part of me refused to believe.

“Hmm,” I said slowly, tapping the page. “Maybe… handwriting mistake? Or spelling error? Or maybe your pen ran out of ink mid-sentence? You know how bad my teachers’ registers looked in school.”

Ezra groaned. “It’s not a school register. This is the Book of Souls.”

“Still,” I said, tilting my head, “doesn’t mean you’re right. You’re just one guy with a big diary. Mistakes happen.”

(Sneaky Peek)

While he rolled his eyes at me, I glanced sideways. Another shelf nearby had files stacked with names glowing faintly. Curiosity pricked me. What if… what if I peeked at Kian’s file?

I tiptoed toward the shelf.

“Don’t even think about it,” Ezra’s voice boomed without even turning.

I froze like a kid caught stealing ladoos. “Me? Thinking? No, ji. I was just… admiring the shelves. Beautiful architecture.”

He glared at me, and I pretended to zip my lips.

But inside, my thoughts screamed: If I could just see his name… maybe I’d know if he ever loved me.

(Flashback)

The memory rose again, sharp and raw.

Our first month together. I had decorated the dining table with candles, trying to surprise him after his long hospital shift. I wore a soft pink dress, the one my best friend said made me glow.

When he entered, I smiled nervously. “Surprise! I cooked dinner.”

He glanced at the table, then at me. His face didn’t change. “I’m tired. I’ll eat later.”

I followed him, hurt. “At least sit with me for ten minutes?”

He sighed. “Jaspreet, please. Don’t force me. I need rest.”

He closed the bedroom door in my face.

I stood there in the candlelight, holding the food I’d made with love. My tears fell into the dal.

(Back in the Office)

The memory faded, leaving heaviness in my chest. I blinked back the sting in my eyes and looked at Ezra.

“Tell me something,” I asked softly, “why does God give us hearts if they’re only meant to be broken?”

Ezra paused, his silver eyes softer now. “Maybe… to see how strong you are when they break.”

I gave a bitter laugh. “Strong? Ezra ji, I wasn’t strong. I was a fool in love. That man… he never even looked at me properly.”

He didn’t reply. Just closed the book gently. “You’ll understand in time.”

But I shook my head. “No. I’ll only understand when I get answers. Until then, you can’t convince me I’m dead. I’m not done fighting.”

Ezra muttered something like, “Impossible soul,” under his breath.

And me? I smiled proudly, already planning my next move.

Because if Heaven thought they could silence me with one glowing book… they clearly underestimated Jaspreet from Punjab.