𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂 - 𝙑𝙊𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙀.

"Yes... Slowly..." Prithvi whispered as Tara was trying to walk.

Her legs trembled with each step, the weakness in her body making the simple act of walking feel like an insurmountable task.

Prithvi's hands were gently supporting her, his touch both firm and reassuring.

"You're doing great, Tara. Just a little more," he encouraged, his voice soft and filled with concern.

Tara's breaths were shallow and labored, her face a mask of determination. Every step was a victory, a testament to her strength and willpower.

Prithvi's presence beside her was a constant source of comfort, his unwavering support giving her the courage to keep going.

They moved slowly across their vast room, the sunlight streaming through the windows casting a warm glow on Tara's pale face.

She glanced up at Prithvi, her eyes reflecting a mixture of pain and gratitude.

"Just a few more steps," he murmured, guiding her towards the balcony. "You can do it."

With a final, determined effort, Tara stepped out onto the balcony, the fresh air and open space a welcome change.

She sank into a chair with a relieved sigh, her body relaxing as she took in the expansive view. Prithvi knelt beside her, his eyes filled with pride and tenderness.

"See? I knew you could do it," he said, gently as his fingers creased her shaved head.

"You're stronger than you think."

Tara smiled weakly, her exhaustion evident but her spirit unbroken. She squeezed Prithvi's hand, drawing strength from his unwavering faith in her.

Together, they sat in the peaceful silence, the warmth of the sun and the soothing breeze offering a moment of solace and hope.

"Now let's have this tea... You will love its taste," said Prithvi, holding a spoon in front of her.

Tara looked at the spoon, her eyes reflecting both curiosity and fatigue. She parted her lips slightly, allowing Prithvi to gently feed her the warm tea.

The rich, soothing flavor spread across her tongue, bringing a small measure of comfort.

Prithvi watched her intently, his gaze soft and encouraging.

"How is it?" he asked, his voice filled with gentle concern.

Tara nodded weakly, a faint smile appearing on her lips.

"It's good," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Prithvi's eyes brightened with relief. "Good," he said softly. "We'll take it slow. Just a little at a time."

He carefully continued to feed her the tea, each spoonful a small but significant step in her recovery.

Tara leaned back in the chair, feeling the warmth of the tea spread through her, the presence of Prithvi beside her a constant source of strength and comfort.

As they sat together on the balcony, the peaceful surroundings and the simple act of sharing tea created a moment of quiet intimacy, a respite from the pain and struggles they had endured.

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" It... it will be okay, Tara," said Prithvi nervously as he changed the wet cloth on her forehead.

Tara was shivering furiously; even the thick warm blanket couldn't give her the comfort she needed.

After that evening on the balcony, her condition had taken a turn for the worse, and now she was burning with a fever.

Prithvi glanced at the midwife, who was diligently preparing a medicinal paste.

Her experienced hands moved quickly, mixing herbs and other ingredients to create something that might help ease Tara's suffering.

He turned back to Tara, her face pale and glistening with sweat. Her shaven head lay against the pillow, her eyes closed in discomfort. Prithvi's heart ached seeing her like this, so vulnerable and weak.

Tara's body was a battleground. The fever made her skin feel as though it were on fire, yet inside, she felt cold to the bone.

Her muscles ached, every joint throbbed with a dull, relentless pain. Waves of chills coursed through her, making her teeth chatter uncontrollably.

Her head pounded, a relentless, throbbing pressure that made it hard to think, hard to focus on anything other than the misery that enveloped her. Every breath was a struggle, her throat raw and dry, her chest tight.

She felt trapped in her own body, every sensation magnified, every movement sending new spikes of pain through her limbs.

Prithvi gently stroked her cheek, feeling the heat radiating from her skin.

He adjusted the blanket, tucking it more securely around her, though he knew it was of little use against the fever.

The midwife approached with the paste, her expression grave yet determined. She handed it to Prithvi, who took it with trembling hands.

"Here, this will help," he said, trying to sound reassuring. He lifted a spoonful of the paste to Tara's lips, coaxing her to take it.

Tara's eyes fluttered open briefly, glazed with fever, and she weakly accepted the medicine.

As the bitter paste touched her tongue, Tara's face contorted slightly. Swallowing was a monumental effort; her throat felt like sandpaper, and each gulp sent a searing pain through her.

But she forced it down, driven by some faint hope that it might bring relief.

"You're strong, Tara," Prithvi whispered, his voice breaking. "We'll get through this. I promise."

Tara's eyes, though heavy with exhaustion, held a glimmer of trust. She squeezed Prithvi's hand weakly, a small gesture that spoke volumes.

Despite the fever's grip, despite the pain and the chills, she wasn't alone. Prithvi was there, and that gave her a sliver of comfort amidst the torment.

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It was midnight, and still, there was no change in Tara's condition. The room was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire and the sound of Tara's labored breathing.

Shadows danced on the walls, cast by the flickering flames, giving the room an eerie, restless energy.

Prithvi sat by her side, exhaustion etched on his face. His eyes were red from lack of sleep, but he refused to leave her.

Every now and then, he would reach out to touch her forehead, hoping for some sign that the fever was breaking, but her skin remained scorching hot.

Tara lay motionless except for the occasional shiver that ran through her body.

Her breaths were shallow and quick, each one a struggle. The fever had drained her strength, leaving her almost unrecognizable from the vibrant woman she had been.

Prithvi replaced the damp cloth on her forehead once more, his hands gentle yet firm.

He whispered soothing words, though he wasn't sure if she could hear him through the haze of her fever.

Prithvi watched Tara, feeling helpless. Every minute stretched into an eternity. He could see the toll the fever was taking on her, and it tore at his heart.

She had been through so much already, and now this. He squeezed her hand, willing his strength into her.

"Stay with me, Tara," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You have to fight this. For Manik. For us."

The fire crackled softly, and outside, the world was dark and still. But in that small room, Prithvi's world was centered on Tara, and his every thought and prayer was for her recovery.

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As the night wore on, Tara's condition showed no signs of improvement.

Even with two thick blankets wrapped around her, she continued to shiver occasionally.

Prithvi watched over her, his worry deepening with each passing hour.

The flickering lamp cast shadows on the walls, highlighting the beads of sweat forming on Tara's forehead despite her chills.

Prithvi checked her again, his hand gently resting on her forehead and then her neck. The heat was still there, burning fiercely. He felt a pang of helplessness, wanting to do more but knowing he had to wait for the remedies to take effect.

Suddenly, Tara's body tensed, and her eyes fluttered open with a look of panic. Prithvi immediately sensed the change. She tried to sit up, a strangled sound escaping her lips.

"Tara, what is it?" he asked urgently, leaning closer.

Tara's face contorted in discomfort as she gagged, and Prithvi quickly grabbed a basin that was kept nearby for such an emergency.

He helped her lean over the edge of the bed just in time for her to retch into the basin. Her body convulsed with the effort, and Prithvi held her steady, his strong hands supporting her back.

"It's okay, let it out," he whispered soothingly, though his heart ached to see her in such distress.Tara continued to vomit, her body trembling with each heave.

When she finally stopped, she collapsed back onto the pillows, utterly spent.

Prithvi wiped her mouth gently with a damp cloth, his touch tender and reassuring.He set the basin aside and adjusted the blankets around her, making sure she was as comfortable as possible.

Tara's eyes were half-closed, exhaustion written all over her pale face. Prithvi's gaze softened as he stroked her forehead.

Despite his efforts, Tara's shivering only grew more intense. Desperation filled Prithvi's heart as he realized that the blankets alone weren't enough to warm her.

Prithvi, seeing no other option, climbed onto the bed beside Tara. Gently, he took her frail, shivering body, still wrapped in the thick blankets, into his arms.

He held her tightly, pulling her close against his chest.

The warmth of his body slowly began to seep into her, offering a much-needed refuge from the relentless cold that gripped her.

Tara's face, pale and drenched with sweat, rested against his chest. Each shallow breath she took sent a wave of worry through him.

He could feel her heart racing, her body fighting the fever that ravaged her. Despite the thick blankets, her shivering persisted, and Prithvi tightened his hold, hoping his embrace would bring some comfort.

"I'm here, Tara," he whispered softly, his voice trembling with emotion.

He stroked her back gently, his touch both tender and reassuring. Tara nestled closer to him, her body instinctively seeking the safety and comfort of his embrace.

Slowly, the intensity of her shivers began to subside as she absorbed his warmth.

Prithvi looked down at her, his heart breaking at the sight of her suffering. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

He tried to blink them away, but they spilled over, tracing silent paths down his cheeks. The helplessness he felt was overwhelming, and he could no longer hold back his emotions.

He thought of everything she had endured, the violence and pain, and now this fever that gripped her so mercilessly.

The anguish he felt was akin to a mother's grief for her suffering child. He could feel a lump in his throat, his chest tightening with each tear that fell.

He couldn't bear to see her like this, but he knew he had to stay strong for her sake.

"I'm so sorry, Tara," he murmured, his voice cracking with sorrow. "I wish I could take this pain away. I wish I could bear it for you."

His tears flowed freely now, each one a testament to the depth of his love and the agony of seeing her in such a state.

He touched his lips on her head, the scent of her mixing with his own salty tears, and cried silently. His body shook with the intensity of his sobs, the sound muffled but raw with emotion.

For the rest of the night, Prithvi remained by her side, his silent tears mingling with the darkness of the room.

He rocked her gently, like a fragile child, his heartbeat a steady, calming rhythm against her ear.

He whispered words of comfort and reassurance, his voice a soothing balm to her fevered mind.

"I'm here, Tara," he repeated, his voice filled with a fierce determination. "I'm not going anywhere."

As the night stretched on, Prithvi's tears continued to fall, but he held Tara close, his love for her a beacon of warmth and strength in the cold, unforgiving night.

The bond between them, forged in pain and resilience, was stronger than ever, and he vowed to protect her with every fiber of his being.

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As dawn approached, the sky began to change its color, casting soft hues of orange and pink. Birds chirped melodiously, welcoming the new day. Prithvi sat on the balcony, cradling Tara in his arms.

He had wrapped her in a thin blanket now that her fever had finally started to decrease.

He gently rocked her, his eyes filled with both relief and exhaustion. The cool morning breeze brushed against their skin, a soothing contrast to the heat of the night.

Tara's head rested against his chest, her breathing steady but weak.

Prithvi looked down at her, brushing a tender kiss on her forehead. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, the remnants of a night filled with worry and silent prayers.

The sound of the birds and the sight of the rising sun brought him a glimmer of hope.

"You're getting better, Tara," he whispered softly, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and lingering concern. "We made it through the night."

Tara stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open. She looked up at him, a faint smile playing on her lips. The warmth of the moment, combined with the cool morning air, gave them a fleeting sense of peace amidst their trials.

Prithvi gently brushed his thumb across her cheek, his touch tender and reassuring.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"A little better," Tara replied weakly, her voice hoarse but steady.

"Thank you for staying with me."

Prithvi's heart swelled with emotion.

"I'll always be here for you, Tara. No matter what."

They sat there for a while, soaking in the serenity of the early morning. The warmth of the rising sun gradually replaced the coolness of the night.

"Let me bring khada for you," Prithvi said, trying to shift away to fetch the herbal remedy.

"Nooo," Tara said weakly, her voice filled with desperation as she snugged more into him.

Prithvi paused, feeling the depth of her need for comfort. Wrapping his arms around her more securely, he kissed her head with all the love he felt.

"Alright, I'll stay," he whispered, gently stroking her back.

Tara relaxed slightly in his embrace, her tension easing as she felt his warmth and steady heartbeat.

Prithvi gently caressed her head, his fingers moving tenderly over her shaved scalp. Tara's eyes fluttered closed as she nestled against his chest, finding comfort in his embrace.

He looked down at her sleeping form, his heart swelling with a mix of love and protectiveness.

Her face, though pale and exhausted, held a serene expression. Prithvi watched her for a long moment, taking in the delicate rise and fall of her chest with each breath.

The early morning light bathed them in a soft, golden glow, and the chirping of the birds created a peaceful symphony around them.

Prithvi leaned his head back against the wall, feeling a profound sense of gratitude and determination.

He whispered softly, "Rest well, Tara. I'll be here, always."

They remained there, entwined and silent, finding solace in each other.

The world outside continued to wake up, but for now, their world was confined to the safety and comfort of each other's arms.

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"Ahhhhhh!" The men inside the cell watched in horror as their Sarkar, Magan, writhed in agony.

Magan's pain was concentrated in one spot-his private part. After an extended period of relentless beating, that area had begun to bleed profusely.

His face was contorted with pain, sweat dripping down his brow, mixing with the dirt and blood. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each exhale a testament to his suffering.

Prithvi, towering over him, held the iron rod stained with Magan's blood. His eyes were cold, filled with unrelenting fury.

He showed no signs of stopping, determined to make Magan feel every ounce of the pain he had caused Tara.

The other men in the cell could do nothing but watch, their own fear paralyzing them.

They had never seen their formidable leader reduced to such a state, and the sight of his suffering filled them with dread.

They exchanged nervous glances, each man silently praying that Prithvi's wrath would not turn towards them next.

"Today it's time to end all this..." saying this, Prithvi grabbed Magan's hair and dragged him out of the room into the jungle.

Outside, Jabra stood with Padma, who looked drained and weary, and Sanjana, whose face was etched with concern.

The moonlight cast an eerie glow on the scene, highlighting the tension in the air.

Jabra's stern expression softened slightly as he saw Prithvi, but his eyes flicked to Magan with a mix of anger and disgust.

Padma, despite her exhaustion, held herself with a fragile dignity. Her eyes followed Prithvi's every move, a silent plea for the nightmare to end.

Sanjana stood close to her, her hand resting on Padma's shoulder in a gesture of support. The jungle around them was silent, as if holding its breath for what was to come.

Prithvi's grip on Magan's hair tightened as he pulled him towards the waiting jeep.

"It's time," he said, his voice low but filled with a steely resolve. The others watched in silence, knowing that this moment was the culmination of a long, painful journey.

A rope was handed to Prithvi. He took it and began to tie Magan's hands tightly, securing him to the back of the jeep. Magan struggled, but the knots held firm, biting into his skin.

Prithvi's movements were methodical, his face set in grim determination.Next, Prithvi moved to Padma and Sanjana.

They whimpered and tried to resist, but Prithvi showed no mercy. He bound their hands with the same cold precision, ensuring they were securely fastened behind the jeep.

With all three tied, Prithvi stepped back, surveying his work. Their eyes were wide with fear and pain, but he felt no pity.

This was justice.He climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. The roar of the motor drowned out their pleas.

With a sudden lurch, the jeep began to move.Magan, Sanjana, and Padma were pulled off their feet, their bodies hitting the ground hard.

They were dragged across the rough, unforgiving terrain, the ropes biting into their wrists as they struggled to keep up.

Prithvi drove slowly at first, savoring their cries of pain and fear.Through the rearview mirror, he watched them.

Every bump and jolt sent waves of agony through their bodies, their screams growing louder. Prithvi's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his face a mask of cold resolve.

He increased the speed, the jeep bouncing over rocks and roots.Their bodies were tossed and twisted, limbs flailing as they were dragged mercilessly behind the vehicle. Prithvi's heart pounded in his chest, each mile a step closer to justice.

He drove faster, their cries becoming more desperate, more frantic.The rough ground tore at their clothes and skin, leaving them battered and bloodied. Prithvi didn't waver.

He focused on the path ahead, driving them toward the retribution they deserved.

Prithvi drove through the dense forest, the jeep's engine growling as it pulled its burden. The sounds of the village began to emerge in the distance-voices, the clatter of daily activities.

He pressed on, determined, the cries of Magan, Sanjana, and Padma mingling with the noise of the engine and the rustle of the forest.

As the jeep emerged from the trees and into the village, a hush fell over the crowd. Villagers stopped in their tracks, eyes widening in shock and horror as they saw the brutal scene unfolding before them.

Prithvi drove to the center of the village, where the ground was firm and the crowd thickened.He stopped the jeep abruptly, turning off the engine.

The sudden silence was filled only by the labored breathing and groans of the three who were dragged behind. Prithvi stepped out, his tall frame casting a shadow over the scene.

He walked around to the back, untying the ropes with a deliberate slowness, his face set in an expression of cold, unyielding resolve.

Magan, Sanjana, and Padma lay on the ground, their bodies battered and bruised, clothes torn, and skin scraped raw.

Prithvi hauled Magan to his feet, gripping his hair tightly. He forced him to stand before the gathering villagers, who watched with a mix of fear and morbid curiosity.

"This is what happens to those who bring pain and suffering to innocent lives," Prithvi declared, his voice echoing through the still air.

Prithvi yanked Magan's hair, dragging him toward the large bonfire that roared fiercely at the center of the village.

The flames crackled and leaped, casting eerie shadows across the horrified faces of the villagers.With a final, brutal shove, Prithvi pushed Magan into the fire.

Magan's screams pierced the night, a chilling testament to the intense pain and fear he felt. The villagers watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide with a mixture of terror and grim satisfaction.

Prithvi stood tall, his silhouette framed by the dancing flames, as Magan's cries gradually faded into the night.

He turned to face the villagers, his expression hard and unyielding.

"Let this be a lesson," he said, his voice carrying over the crackling fire and the whispering crowd.

"Justice will always find those who inflict pain and suffering upon the innocent."

"Prithvi !!!" Deepak's voice rang out, cutting through the tense atmosphere. He arrived at the scene, followed closely by Kusum and several other villagers.

Deepak's eyes fell on his mother Padma, her expression a mix of fear and defiance.

"How dare you do such a thing!!" he screamed, fury contorting his features. He moved towards Padma with intent, but Prithvi's men quickly stepped in, restraining him.

"Let me go!" Deepak struggled against their hold, his anger boiling over. "You can't treat my mother like this!"

"And what about my wife, my son, and my unborn child?" Prithvi's voice sliced through the tense silence, carrying with it a mix of sorrow and simmering rage.

"Was what your mother did to them justified?"

Shock rippled through the assembled villagers. Their eyes darted between Prithvi and Padma, realization dawning on many faces as the gravity of his accusation sank in.

The night seemed to hold its breath as Prithvi's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the gathered crowd.

"Deepak... Beta, save me... He is lying," pleaded Padma desperately.

"She isn't what you all think... I respected her, but she shattered my trust every step of the way," Prithvi stated firmly, his voice tinged with disappointment and resolve.

"Just if you had accepted everything... then today, Jay would still be alive," Prithvi's voice cracked as he spoke, the weight of his emotions evident.

"Tara and Manik wouldn't be suffering like this. My unborn child... it's all because of you,"

he continued, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"You couldn't accept us like your son," he finished, a cry tinged with anguish escaping his lips as he stared at Padma, his face a mixture of sorrow and anger.

Padma's face turned pale, her eyes darting around, searching for an escape.

"They are lying! All of them!"

Prithvi shook his head, his voice firm.

"No, Dadi. The truth is out. Your actions have caused so much pain and suffering. It's time everyone knew who you really are."

The crowd murmured in shock, whispers spreading like wildfire. Deepak stood frozen, his mind reeling from the revelations.

Kusum's face was a mixture of sadness and anger, her trust shattered.

As the truth settled over the gathering, Prithvi's eyes filled with a mix of triumph and sorrow.

The pain of his past, the suffering of his loved ones, it all came crashing down in that moment.

And in that same moment, Padma's mask finally fell, revealing the true extent of her deceit and cruelty.

"She doesn't have the right to live!" cried a woman in the crowd.

"Yes!" other women echoed, their voices rising in unison.

"Hey! Do you all know what the heck you're saying?" shouted Deepak, stepping forward to defend Padma.

His eyes blazed with fury and desperation as he scanned the crowd.Prithvi stood firm, his gaze unwavering.

"They know exactly what they're saying, Deepak. They've seen the truth of her actions."

"Truth? You call this truth?!" Deepak's voice cracked with emotion.

"She's my mother! She's been a part of this village for decades!"

Kusum, her voice trembling with a mixture of sorrow and anger, spoke up.

"And in those decades, how much suffering has she caused? How many lives has she ruined?"

"She should be burned alive!" shouted the women, and together they captured Sanjana and Padma, dragging them towards the big bonfire.

Deepak struggled to free himself from the grip of Prithvi's men, but he couldn't break free.

"Stop this madness!" he yelled, desperation in his voice.

The women moved with fierce determination, their faces set with grim resolve as they hauled the two captives towards the roaring flames.

Padma and Sanjana screamed, their pleas for mercy drowned out by the angry cries of the villagers.Prithvi watched the chaos, his heart heavy.

"Enough!" he bellowed.

"Their punishment will be to suffer the pain while alive," Prithvi declared, his voice cutting through the chaos.

"Death would be an escape, a path where they would be freed from everything."

The villagers paused, their anger momentarily quelled by Prithvi's commanding presence.

Padma and Sanjana, trembling and sobbing, looked at Prithvi with a mixture of fear and hope.

Prithvi stepped forward, his eyes meeting those of the villagers.

"We will let them live, but they will face the consequences of their actions every day. They will know the pain they caused."

The crowd murmured in agreement, slowly dispersing. Prithvi's men tightened their grip on Padma and Sanjana, ensuring they would not escape.

"Lock them up in the cell they were in before,"

Prithvi commanded his men, his voice firm and resolute.As Padma and Sanjana were dragged away, Prithvi stepped closer, his eyes cold and unforgiving.

"This is your punishment," he said, his words dripping with venom.

"The pain will become so unbearable that you will wish for death, but it won't come. You will face every moment, every day, knowing the suffering you have caused."

Padma and Sanjana's faces twisted with fear and realization, but Prithvi showed no mercy.

His men led them back to the dark, damp cell, locking the door with a resounding clang that echoed through the silence of the night.

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Her eyes flutter open as the morning rays fall gently over her face. Tara slowly woke up, feeling the warmth of the sunlight streaming through the window. She noticed Prithvi sitting by her side, his eyes filled with concern and tenderness.

"Good morning," he said softly, helping her sit up. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit better," Tara replied weakly, managing a small smile.

Prithvi nodded, relief washing over his face. "I have something to show you. The village women have come to give you gifts."

He helped Tara out of bed, supporting her as they walked downstairs. In the courtyard, a group of village women stood waiting, holding various gifts. Their faces lit up with warm smiles as they saw Tara approaching.

"We heard about your ordeal," one of the women said, stepping forward. "These gifts are a token of our support and love for you."

Tara was touched by their kindness, her eyes welling up with tears. Prithvi stayed by her side, holding her hand and offering his silent support. The women handed over their gifts one by one, each one accompanied by words of encouragement and solidarity.

"Thank you," Tara said, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you all so much."

As the morning sun bathed the courtyard in a golden glow, Tara stood surrounded by the women of the village.

Each gift they handed her was a testament to their support and love, a beacon of hope in her journey towards healing.

With Prithvi standing beside her, his unwavering support giving her strength, Tara felt a deep sense of gratitude.

She looked at the faces around her, each one a symbol of the resilience and unity that bound them together.

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𝙏𝙊 𝘽𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙐𝙀𝘿...