𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘷𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘢𝘺'𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 6-𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳-𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳.

𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘬'𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘱𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦.

𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘷𝘪'𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘑𝘢𝘺'𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩.

𝘌𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳, 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴.

"𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥!," 𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘬'𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘑𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥, "𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘢, 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦..."

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘬'𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘺𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵, 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴' 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺.

"𝘐 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 1𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 2𝘯𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘺𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 3𝘳𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 4𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴!" 𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘬'𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴' 𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘤 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦.

"𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴! " 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘷𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦.

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘑𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘶𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘺.

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘬. 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘑𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘑𝘢𝘺'𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘷𝘪.

𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘬'𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

"𝘈𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘢𝘩𝘪 𝘬𝘢," 𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘬 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘢 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴.

( 𝘚𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘏𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦)

𝘚𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘑𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘷𝘪'𝘴 6-𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳-𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴.

𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳,𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘬'𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘬.

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸, 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘷𝘪'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵.

"𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘬𝘦 𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘰 𝘈𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰 !"

𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘬'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴' 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘴.

( 𝘉𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥)

𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘷𝘪 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴.

.

.

.

.

.

.

" Jay! "

As Prithvi whispered, he stirred from his unconscious state, his senses gradually awakening to the subtle nuances of the room.

The dim light filtering through the curtains painted delicate patterns on the walls, a soft interplay of shadows and moonlight casting an ethereal glow over the surroundings.

The faint flicker of the lantern added a warm, comforting ambiance to the room, contrasting with the cool, silvery beams of moonlight that danced across the floor.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Prithvi attempted to sit up, his body protesting against the effort with a sharp pang of pain.

He winced and let out a low groan, his muscles tense and rigid from the strain of his injuries.

As he settled back onto the pillow, he took a moment to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm.

It was then that he noticed a small figure nestled on his chest, a familiar warmth against his skin.

In the dim light, he could make out the form of Mannu, their cherished pet, curled up in a ball of fur, breathing softly in sync with Prithvi's own breaths.

A sense of comfort washed over him at the sight, a reminder of the simple joys that brought solace in times of hardship.

With gentle care, Prithvi reached out with his bandaged hand to stroke Mannu's soft fur, feeling the gentle rise and fall of the creature's chest beneath his touch.

The rhythmic motion was soothing, a reassuring presence amidst the chaos that surrounded them.

Summoning his resolve, Prithvi made another attempt to sit up, bracing himself against the pain with determined resolve.

With a slow, steady movement, he propped himself up on one elbow, his muscles trembling with the effort. It was a small victory, but one that filled him with a sense of accomplishment nonetheless.

Reaching out to the bedside table, Prithvi's fingers closed around a glass of water, the coolness of the glass soothing against his palm.

He took a sip, the refreshing liquid washing away the dryness in his throat, revitalizing him with each swallow. It was a simple act, but one that offered a momentary reprieve from the physical and emotional toll of his ordeal.

Setting the glass aside, Prithvi gently lifted Mannu from his chest, cradling the small creature in his arms as he settled back against the pillows. Mannu stirred slightly, nuzzling closer to Prithvi's warmth, a silent gesture of trust and companionship.

With a sense of quiet introspection, Prithvi cast his gaze towards Tara and their son Manik, both lost in the tranquility of sleep

His heart ached with love and remorse as he watched them, the weight of his past actions heavy on his conscience.

Taking Tara's bandaged hand in his own, Prithvi traced the contours of her palm with tender reverence, his touch light and gentle against her skin.

In the soft glow of the lantern, he could see the lines of worry etched upon her face, a poignant reminder of the hardships they had endured together.

"I am sorry, Tara..." Prithvi's voice was a mere whisper, filled with a depth of emotion that words could not fully express.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he spoke, the weight of his remorse weighing heavily upon him. "For everything."

In the stillness of the night, with only the gentle rustle of curtains and the soft sounds of their breathing filling the room, Prithvi sat in silent contemplation.

He knew that their journey was far from over, but in that moment, surrounded by the ones he loved, he found a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a beacon to guide them through the trials that lay ahead.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Prithvi felt something wet on his face, stirring him from his unconscious state. Opening his eyes, he saw little Mannu licking his face with its wet tongue.

Beside him, he noticed little Manik sleeping soundly, nestled closely to his side, while behind Manik, the bed was empty.

As Prithvi sat up, Mannu jumped from the bed and went outside the room, barking excitedly.

Prithvi gently caressed Manik's head, feeling a rush of love and protectiveness for his son.

After a moment, Mannu returned, dragging draped fabric behind him. Prithvi's eyes widened in surprise as he recognized the fabric-it was a piece of Kusum's saree.

As Kusum entered the room, her gaze fell upon her son, who had awakened from his unconscious state.

"Prithvi, mera bacha," she exclaimed, rushing over to him and enveloping him in a tight embrace.

( Prithvi, my son)

"Tujhe meri bilkul bhi fikar nahi thi," she continued, her voice breaking with emotion as tears welled up in her eyes.

( You didn't even cared about me).

Overwhelmed by his mother's display of affection, Prithvi returned the hug, feeling a mixture of relief and guilt wash over him.

Despite the pain, there was a sense of comfort in being surrounded by his mother's love.

.

.

.

.

.

In the dimly lit room, Prithvi lay on the bed, his body weakened by the ordeal he had endured.

Kusum sat beside him, her presence offering a semblance of comfort amidst the uncertainty. As the doctor entered the room to check on Prithvi.

Tara remained outside the room, her heart heavy with disappointment and anger towards Prithvi. She couldn't shake off the betrayal she felt, the shattered trust that seemed irreparable.

Despite her inner turmoil, the weight of responsibility tugged at her, compelling her to fulfill her duties as Prithvi's wife.

Inside the room, Prithvi lay on the bed, his mind consumed by thoughts of Tara. Guilt clawed at him, knowing he had caused her pain beyond measure.

Despite the distance between them, his heart ached for her presence, longing to mend the shattered pieces of their relationship.

As the doctor arrived to assess Prithvi's condition, Tara stood by anxiously, her heart pounding with apprehension.

The doctor's grave expression only heightened her fears, casting a shadow of uncertainty over their future.

"The injuries are severe," the doctor's voice broke the tense silence, his words echoing in the room.

"Thakur Sahab, will need extensive care and rehabilitation to recover fully."

"Just need to take care of him and keep changing the bandages from time to time. And of course, make sure he eats healthy. Then Thakur Shahab will be fit and fine,"

he concluded, a note of confidence underlying his words.Kusum nodded gratefully, her eyes brimming with relief at the doctor's assurances.

"Sukriya Dactar Saheb," she murmured, her voice filled with gratitude.

( Thank you, doctor)

"We'll make sure to follow your instructions carefully."

With a nod of farewell, the doctor gathered his medical bag and made his way towards the door.

As he stepped out into the hallway, Kusum couldn't help but feel a sense of hope blossom within her.

With the doctor's words ringing in her ears, she knew that Prithvi's road to recovery would be challenging, but she was determined to do whatever it took to ensure his health and well-being.

.

.

.

.

.

.

As the day unfolded, Prithvi's longing for Tara grew with each passing moment. From the moment he awoke, his heart yearned for a glimpse of her, a reassuring presence in the midst of his turmoil.

Yet, despite his silent prayers, Tara remained elusive, her absence casting a shadow over his thoughts.

Hour by hour, Prithvi's gaze would drift towards the door, hoping to catch sight of Tara's familiar figure.

But each time, his hopes were dashed as she remained steadfastly outside the room, her absence a painful reminder of the chasm that had emerged between them.

As the sun reached its zenith, Prithvi's heart weighed heavy with regret and longing.

He yearned to bridge the distance that had grown between them, to seek forgiveness in Tara's eyes and rebuild the shattered fragments of their bond.

But as the day wore on, Tara's absence only served to deepen Prithvi's sense of isolation.

Despite his silent pleas, she remained resolute in her decision to keep her distance, her presence felt only in the echoes of her absence.

And so, as evening descended and the shadows lengthened, Prithvi resigned himself to another night without Tara by his side.

Yet, even in the darkness, a glimmer of hope remained-a flicker of light that whispered of reconciliation and redemption, a beacon guiding them towards a future where their love could once again flourish.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Kusum came with a plate of food containing porridge for Prithvi, she began to feed him with tender care. Sensing his unease, Prithvi's thoughts turned to Tara, his heart heavy with concern.

Sensing his restlessness, her motherly instincts guiding her every move.

"Prithvi, beta, the doctor said you need rest and care," Kusum said softly, her voice gentle yet firm.

"I'll be here by your side, taking care of you every step of the way."

Prithvi glanced up at his mother, gratitude shining in his eyes despite the pain and guilt he carried within him.

"Thank you, Ma," he whispered, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

"I'm sorry for everything."

Kusum reached out and placed a comforting hand on his forehead, her touch conveying more love and understanding than words ever could.

"Shh, beta, there's no need for apologies," she replied, her voice filled with compassion.

"We'll get through this together".

"Ma......where is Tara?" Prithvi asked, his voice tinged with worry.

"Why hasn't she come inside the room?"

Kusum paused, her movements faltering for a moment as she considered her son's question.

"She's outside, beta," she replied gently, her eyes filled with understanding.

"She's... she's not ready to face you yet."

Prithvi's heart clenched at Kusum's words, a mixture of longing and sorrow flooding through him.

He understood Tara's need for space, her struggle to come to terms with the betrayal he had inflicted upon her.

But that didn't ease the ache of her absence, the emptiness that gnawed at his soul.

As Kusum continued to comfort him, Prithvi made a silent vow to himself.

He would do whatever it took to earn Tara's forgiveness, to rebuild the trust that he had shattered.

For in that moment, amidst the darkness of uncertainty, he held onto the flicker of hope that one day, Tara would find it in her heart to forgive him.

Meanwhile, outside the room, Tara lingered in the hallway, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions.

She knew she needed to confront Prithvi, to address the hurt and betrayal that had come between them.

Yet, as the hours passed, she found herself unable to muster the courage to face him.

Instead, she paced restlessly, her mind consumed with thoughts of their fractured relationship and the uncertainty of the future.

Despite her anger and disappointment, a part of her still longed for the connection they once shared, a flicker of hope amidst the turmoil of her emotions.

As the day wore on, Tara's resolve wavered, torn between her desire to confront Prithvi and her fear of facing the painful truths that lay between them.

In the quiet of the hallway, she wrestled with her inner demons, unsure of what the future held for her and Prithvi, and whether they could withstand the trials that lay ahead.

.

.

.

.

.

.

As Tara quietly peeked inside the room, the soft glow of the moon cast gentle shadows across the sleeping figures.

The night had settled in, enveloping everything in a tranquil hush. Tara's heart fluttered with nervous anticipation as she surveyed the scene before her.

Prithvi lay fast asleep, his peaceful expression softened by the moonlight. Beside him, their son Manik slumbered soundly, his tiny form nestled close to his father's side.

A pang of longing washed over Tara as she watched them, her heart heavy with unresolved emotions.

Taking a cautious step forward, Tara tiptoed towards the wardrobe, her movements slow and deliberate. With each soft footfall, she stole a glance at Prithvi, her gaze lingering on his sleeping form.

The distance between them felt like an insurmountable barrier, a reminder of the rift that had formed between them.

As Tara reached for her saree, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness.

The fabric felt familiar yet foreign in her hands, a tangible reminder of the life they once shared.

With a heavy heart, she draped the saree over her arm, her movements careful not to disturb the sleeping figures nearby.

Finally, grabbing her gamcha, Tara turned towards the bathroom, her footsteps barely making a sound on the floor.

Tara's heart raced as she heard Prithvi's faint voice behind her.

Turning around, she was met with his gaze, his eyes now open, searching. The moment seemed to hang in the air, charged with unspoken emotion.

"Tara?" Prithvi's voice was barely a whisper, yet it echoed loudly in the silence of the room.

Tara froze, her heart pounding in her chest as she met Prithvi's gaze. She hadn't expected him to wake up, let alone acknowledge her presence.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the weight of their unspoken words heavy between them.

In Prithvi's eyes, Tara saw a flicker of emotion-relief, perhaps, mingled with sorrow.

He seemed to want to reach out to her, to bridge the gap that had grown between them, but he hesitated, uncertainty clouding his expression.

Tara remained rooted to the spot, her conflicting emotions waging war within her.

Because somewhere deep inside her heart she still longed to be near Prithvi, to feel his warmth and reassurance, yet the wounds of betrayal still ran deep, and she couldn't ignore the pain and betrayal  that he gave still lingered in her heart.

" Tara... I..." Prithvi's voice trailed off, his intention clear but his words faltering.

With a determined effort, Prithvi attempted to rise from the bed, his hand reaching out towards Tara.

But his weakened state betrayed him, and he stumbled, his balance faltering as he teetered on the edge of falling.

In that moment of vulnerability, Tara's instincts kicked in. Without a second thought, she rushed towards him, her heart pounding in her chest as she caught his arm, steadying him before he could fall.

Their eyes met in a silent exchange, a myriad of emotions passing between them-regret, longing, and a glimmer of hope.

As Tara steadied Prithvi, their eyes locked in a wordless exchange, the air thick with unspoken emotions.

With a gentle yet firm grip on Prithvi's arm, Tara guided him back to the bed, her touch tentative yet filled with an underlying tenderness.

Once Prithvi was safely seated, Tara remained by his side, her presence a silent reassurance amidst the turmoil of their fractured relationship.

Despite the distance that had grown between them, the bond forged by  love and companionship still lingered, a fragile thread holding them together in the darkness.

Prithvi's gaze softened as he looked at Tara, a silent apology lingering in his eyes.

"Tara, I'm..." he began, his voice faltering with emotion. "I'm SORRY..."

But Tara remained silent, her expression unreadable as she turned away, her heart heavy with the weight of unspoken pain.

Without a word, she retreated to the bathroom, leaving Prithvi to grapple with the echoes of his own remorse.

In the quiet of the night, they sat in silence, the distance between them a palpable presence in the room.

Yet, despite the walls that divided them, there was a glimmer of hope-a faint flicker of possibility that perhaps, with time and patience, they could find their way back to each other.

But for now, they remained suspended in the liminal space between love and loss, grappling with the complexities of forgiveness and redemption as they navigated the uncertain terrain of their fractured relationship.

.

.

.

.

.

.

1 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙝 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧

Prithvi, immersed in his work, sat on the khatiya, a stack of papers spread out before him.

Raju, his loyal worker, stood nearby, awaiting instructions. The room was filled with the faint sound of rustling papers as Prithvi sifted through the documents, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Suddenly, Raju's voice cut through the silence, pulling Prithvi's attention away from the papers before him.

"Thakur Sahab, did you get any smell of burning something?"

Raju's words were tinged with concern, his eyes darting towards the kitchen with worry etched on his face.

Prithvi's movements stilled, his senses sharpening as he processed Raju's question.

The mention of burning sent a jolt of apprehension through him, his mind racing to identify the source of the scent.

With a furrowed brow, he sniffed the air, detecting a faint whiff of something charred.

A sense of urgency washed over Prithvi as he realized the potential danger lurking nearby.

Setting aside the papers, he rose from the khatiya, his instincts driving him towards the kitchen.

As he entered the kitchen, the sight before him sent a shiver down his spine.

Tara lay unconscious on the floor, surrounded by the remnants of burned food and flames licking at the stove.

Without a second thought, Prithvi sprang into action, his movements swift and decisive.

Grabbing a nearby jug of water, he doused the flames, the sound of sizzling filling the air as the fire was extinguished.

But his attention remained solely on Tara, her still form a stark reminder of the danger she had been in.

"Tara, Tara, wake up," Prithvi pleaded, gently tapping her cheeks in an attempt to rouse her from her unconscious state.

In that moment, Kusum and Padma burst into the kitchen.

Prithvi wasted no time in scooping Tara into his arms, his heart pounding with fear for her safety.

With swift strides, he carried her out of the kitchen and into their bedroom, laying her gently on the bed.

"Raju, fetch the midwife immediately," Prithvi commanded, his voice laced with urgency as he turned his attention back to Tara.

Taking her cold hands in his own, he began to rub them gently, willing warmth and life back into her frail form.

.

.

.

.

.

" Everything will be okay, Daimaa is checking upon her,"

As Kusum reassured Prithvi, tension thickened in the air, each passing moment amplifying the apprehension that gripped them all.

Prithvi's pacing grew more frantic, his heart pounding in his chest as he awaited news of Tara's condition, his mind racing with dread-filled scenarios.

Finally, the midwife emerged from the room, her expression somber and her demeanor grave.

Prithvi's heart sank as he looked into her eyes, sensing the weight of the news she carried.

"What happened to Tara? Is she okay?" Prithvi's voice trembled with anxiety, his hands trembling as he awaited the midwife's response.

The midwife hesitated, her gaze flickering between Prithvi and Kusum, as if grappling with the enormity of what she was about to reveal.

"Thakur Sahab..." Her voice faltered, she struggled to find the right words.

"Tell Daimaa what happened to Tara," Kusum urged, her own voice tinged with concern.

Taking a deep breath, the midwife gathered her resolve, steeling herself to deliver the astonishing news.

"She is PREGNANT,"

she finally announced, her words hanging in the air like a surreal echo of disbelief.

.

.

.

.

.

.

𝙏𝙊 𝘽𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙐𝙀𝘿....