Chapter 16

𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔🎀

𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍..💓

𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔✨❤️ 🥀

𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚𝒚𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✨

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

Aryan and her mother Bhoomi was walking on the road and after getting tired they sit at a bench at the raodside.

“Mummaa hum kaha jayenge?” Aryan hesitantly asked her “Humara aur koi apna nahi hai ab” his eyes get moisted.

Bhoomi somehow managed herself and cupped Aryan's face “Aryan, papa ne kya sikhaya tha, kitni bhi badi se badi problem aa jaye par kabhi nirash mat hona aur naa hi demotivate hona” she smiled.

She wiped his tears “Aur abhi mai hoon na tumhare pass and hum kisi ke pas nahi jayenge, hum apna ek chhota sa ashiya bnayenge” she kissed him and smiled “Abhi hum rent pe reh lenge”

Aryan smiled to him but immediately his smile vanished which was noticed by his mother, so she asked him “Wo pyari si smile kaha gai?”

Aryan looked down “Mu-mumma par p-paise kaha se ayenge?”he asked as his eyes again got teary.

Bhoomi gulped at his sudden question.

“Kyuki chachu ne sab chhin liya hai to apki job kyu hi rehne denge?” He said.

Bhoomi smiled at him and he noticed that and said “Aap has rahe ho maa?” He asked.

She kissed on his forehead “Tu paiso ki chinta mat kar, tujhe pata hai tere papa ne tere naam se alag se savings kar rkhi thi aur-” she stopped and a tear escaped from her eyes “Aur unke jane ke baad maine bhi paise deposit kiye the usme” she wipped her tears “Aur tujhe pata hai, is saving ke bare me koi nahi janta hum dono ke alawa” she smiled.

“Aur mai koi dusri job dhundh lungi, tu chinta mat kar” she said.

With that they went to another city to find home and where Aryan's family members didn’t found them.

__________________________

Ved stood frozen. The world around him came to a halt.

The coffee cup slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor, echoing the sudden fracture in his reality. His ears buzzed, his breaths grew shallow.

Critical condition? Naina?

Time seemed to slow, then stop completely.

He stood motionless, staring blankly ahead, as if the words hadn’t registered. But they had. And they stung—deeply.

His heartbeat thundered in his chest, louder than the traffic outside.

Without wasting another second, Ved grabbed his car keys, accidentally knocking over a chair in his haste.

He drove like a man possessed—reckless, fast, uncaring of the world around him. He had only one thought: Naina.

As he reached the hospital and approached the room, his heart sank.

Through the small glass panel in the door, he saw her—Naina—lying unconscious on the hospital bed, an oxygen mask covering her pale face, medical machines beeping steadily around her.

A tear escaped him unknowingly.

“N-na... Naina...” he whispered, his voice cracking, eyes locked on her fragile form.

Just then, Prema and Ranjan entered the room. Prema noticed Ved standing at the door and walked up to him “Ved beta?” she said gently.

He quickly turned away, wiping his tears before facing them “He-hello Aunty ji, Namaste” he greeted, voice still trembling. He turned to Ranjan “Namaste Uncle ji”

They exchanged a look, and then both smiled faintly “Khush raho” they said.

Prema added “Naina se milne aaye ho?”

The sudden question caught him off guard. He panicked and looked around nervously.

“W-wo... H-haan ji Aunty... Aaj meri aur Naina ki ek important meeting thi... Aur baad mein mujhe pata chala ki... uska acc—” He turned again to look at Naina lying unconscious “Accident ho gaya hai...” He blinked back his tears “T-to... main milne chala aaya”

Ranjan gently placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Bahut accha kiya beta abhi Naina OT se aayi hai”

Ved frowned in confusion “OT? Par kyun?”

Ranjan looked down, his voice quiet“Actually beta, kal ke accident mein... Naina ke pair bahut buri tarah se fracture ho gaya hai aur age chalke usse problems na ho isliye doctor ne rod lagane ka suggestion diya... So operation hua”

It felt like the ground beneath Ved gave way“W-what? Rod?” His eyes widened in shock.

Ranjan nodded “Haan, par ye rod aage chalke nikal bhi jaayega”

Ved turned back toward Naina, his mind in a whirl. He didn’t know how to react anymore. After a moment, he asked quietly “U-Uncle... if you don't mind... kya main Naina se roz milne aa sakta hoon?” He kept his eyes lowered.

Ranjan glanced at Prema, and she nodded “Haan haan beta, kyun nahi aao, tum mil lo usse” she said, opening the door.

But Ved hesitated “Nahi Aunty... abhi use sone dijiye. Rest karegi to... j-jaldi theek ho jaayegi.” He tried to smile, but couldn’t, I’ll come tomorrow” he whispered, then turned and walked away.

____________________________

After two long days of travel, Bhoomi and Aryan finally stepped onto the bustling streets of Mumbai — a city that felt like an entirely different world from their quiet hometown.

The heat and crowd overwhelmed them, their bodies aching from the journey. Dragging their modest luggage, they hailed an auto and made their way to a nearby hotel for some much-needed rest.

A few hours later, refreshed but still weary, they began their search for a rented room — something affordable yet safe.

By late afternoon, Aryan's enthusiasm began to fade.

He looked up at his mother with a frown, wiping the sweat off his forehead “Mumma, yaha room milna to mushkil hai” he muttered, his eyes scanning the rows of buildings and ‘To-Let’ signs — all either too expensive or already occupied.

Bhoomi glanced at her son, noticing the worry settling on his young face. She reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder.

“Tu chinta mat kar Aryan” she said softly, offering a tired smile “Mil jayega room aur waise bhi mumbai ne kisiko khaali haath nahi bheja ab tak”

She then pointed towards a small local restaurant tucked in the corner of the lane, its warm aroma wafting out onto the street.

“Chal, kuch kha lete hai pehle” she suggested “Thodi energy ayegi, phir fir se dhoondhenge”

Aryan and his mother walked into the posh restaurant, their eyes wide with awe. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, soft instrumental music played in the background, and the aroma of rich spices filled the air. It was unlike any place they had ever been. Aryan, dressed in a simple shirt and worn jeans, held his mother's hand as he guided her to a corner table. She wore a faded cotton saree, neatly pleated, her nervous eyes scanning the lavish surroundings.

"Aryan beta... yeh jagah bahut mehengi lagti hai" she whispered, her voice full of hesitation.

“Ek baar dekh lete hai ma ander jake aur agar expensive hua restaurant to chale ayenge bahar kaun sa wo log ane nhi denge” he laughed.

They ordered the cheapest dish on the menu — one plate of paneer with naan — and shared it quietly, savoring every bite. But when the bill arrived, Aryan's smile faded. His eyes widened as he looked at the amount — ₹2,350. His fingers trembled as he checked his wallet again and again. He was short by ₹400. His mother noticed the panic in his eyes and looked down, ashamed.

They sat there for a long time, unsure of what to do. Aryan kept his head low, avoiding the gazes of the waiters now whispering among themselves. The buzz of laughter and cutlery clinking around them made their silence feel heavier. Then, one of the waiters, tall and smug, approached with a sneer on his face. He crossed his arms and looked down at them like they were dirt on the floor.

"Kya hua sahab?" he said sarcastically "Bill dekh kar bhookh mar gayi kya?"

Aryan stood up awkwardly "Bhaiya... thoda adjust kar lijiye kal tak paise de dunga ya main kuch kaam—"

The waiter raised a hand and interrupted him coldly. His voice loud enough for others to hear, filled with mockery and cruelty.

"Jab aukat 2 rupaye ki ho, to utne mein hi khush raha karo."

His words hit like a slap. A few heads turned toward them. Aryan’s mother quickly rose, her face flushed with humiliation.

She tugged at Aryan’s arm, whispering, “Chalo beta” Without a word, Aryan helped her up. His eyes burned, not with tears — but with a quiet fire. As they walked out of the restaurant, heads low and hearts heavy, Aryan turned once to look back at the place — not with shame, but with silent resolve “Ek din tum logo ko khade kharid lunga”.

As they stepped out of the restaurant, the night air of Mumbai brushed against their faces. The street was alive with honking cars, flickering lights, and the distant sound of a train rumbling over a bridge. Bhoomi clutched the edge of her saree tightly, her lips quivering. Her eyes, swollen with unshed tears, stared blankly ahead. She wanted to cry, to let the humiliation of the moment spill out—but then her gaze shifted to Aryan. Her son walked beside her silently, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the ground. And in that instant, she swallowed her pain, choosing strength over sorrow.

Aryan glanced at her and immediately sensed her inner turmoil. Without saying a word, he stopped and pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her like he used to when he was a little boy scared of the dark.

“M-Mumma,” his voice cracked, barely above a whisper, “don’t worry… ek din sab thik hoga.”

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold it together. A lone tear slipped down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it away, turning his face slightly so she wouldn’t see. She had already borne too much; he wouldn’t let her carry the burden of his tears too.

Breaking the hug gently, he cupped her face with both hands and made her look into his eyes.

“Aaiye Maa,” he said with a soft smile, trying to lighten the moment, “hum kuch aur khayenge… kehte hain na, Mumbai aaye aur vada pav na khaye? Aisa kaise chalega?”

Bhoomi blinked in surprise, a smile slowly forming on her lips, hesitant at first but growing warmer with his words. She gave a soft nod, wiping the corner of her eye.

They walked hand in hand down the bustling street, past neon-lit shops and honking rickshaws, until they reached a small roadside vada pav stall. The aroma of deep-fried fritters, spicy chutneys, and fresh pav filled the air.

“Bhaiya, do vada pav dena… thoda extra lehsun chutney ke saath,” Aryan ordered, flashing a smile at the vendor.

They stood by the cart, munching the crispy, hot vada pav, the spice bringing tears to their eyes—but this time it wasn’t from sadness. Bhoomi chuckled as the chutney made her cough slightly, and Aryan laughed too, handing her water.

In that moment—beneath the flickering bulb of a street stall, surrounded by strangers and noise—something beautiful happened. Their pain didn’t disappear, but it faded for a while, replaced by warmth, love, and hope.

Because sometimes, a vada pav on a Mumbai street could heal a wound deeper than words ever could.

_________________________

Unable to hold the storm inside him, Ved slowly walked out of the hospital and made his way to the park across the street. The sky was overcast, and the breeze carried the scent of rain. Children played in the distance, their laughter sharp against the dull ache in his heart. He sat down on a rusted green bench beneath a gulmohar tree, the leaves rustling gently above him.

Ved leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his fingers laced tightly together. His eyes were vacant, staring at the patchy grass in front of him. His mind was filled with thoughts of Naina—her voice, her smile, the way she used to tease him for being too serious.

“Y-your gajar ka halwa is waiting N-naina” tears fell down from his eyes.

His voice cracked, and he quickly looked away, blinking hard to push back the tears. He didn’t want to cry—but the pain was raw, unbearable. The thought of her not being able to walk again, not being able to dance the way she loved, broke something inside him.

He pulled out his phone, stared at her contact name for a long moment, then typed a message he knew she wouldn’t read right now:

“Miss Naina jaldi thik ho jaiye”

He hit send anyway.

After a while a few raindrops began to fall, dotting the ground like his unshed tears. Ved didn’t move. He just sat there, letting the rain soak through his shirt, letting it wash away the weight on his heart—even if just for a moment.

The rain poured relentlessly from the dull grey sky, turning the park into a canvas of blurred outlines and rippling puddles. Yet, Ved sat motionless on the damp grass, his clothes soaked through, hair plastered to his forehead. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move — almost as if he belonged to the rain now.

Drops slid down his face, but it wasn’t clear if they were rain or tears.

His eyes were fixed on nothing. His thoughts were far away — tangled in Naina’s pain, her trembling voice, the distant look in her eyes when she had spoken of her fears.

"Why did this happen?" he muttered, voice barely louder than the rain.

Ved looked around — at the empty benches, the trees dancing wildly in the wind. And here he was now, sitting alone, too late.

A tear slipped from his eye, this time unmistakably not rain.

He looked up at the sky “Come back to me, Naina just once I swear I’ll tell you everything”

The school van rattled down the muddy lane bordering the park, its windshield blurry with rain. Children’s chatter filled the air, mixed with the clinking of lunchboxes and the soft hum of the driver’s old radio.

Kaushiki sat by the window, chin resting on her hand, tracing invisible patterns on the fogged-up glass. Her schoolbag sat untouched on her lap. She was lost in thought—until something outside caught her eye.

A familiar silhouette.

A figure sitting alone in the rain.

Her eyes widened.

“Ved bhaiya?” she breathed, squinting harder through the rain-speckled window.

He was sitting on the wet ground — drenched, unmoving, like he didn’t care about the world around him was soaked and stormy.

Without a second thought, Kaushiki jolted up from her seat.

“Driver Uncle! Ruko! Van roko!” she shouted, startling the others.

The driver slammed the brakes with a grunt “Kya hua, Kaushiki bitiya?”

“Woh... park mein... mere bhai hai mujhe utarna hai please!”

Before he could even nod, she had already yanked open the door and leapt down, her school shoes splashing into a puddle.

“Ved bhaiya!” she shouted, her voice cracking in the rain.

Ved turned slowly, almost mechanically. It took him a moment to focus, but when he did, his eyes softened.

“Kaushiki…” he murmured.

She ran the last few steps and knelt beside him, her small hands reaching out to shake his shoulders gently.

“Pagal ho ap? What are you doing sitting in the rain like this? You’ll fall sick!” she cried, her voice thick with worry.

Ved gave her a weak smile “I didn’t notice… it was raining”

Kaushiki’s heart clenched at his expression — lost, broken, like the Ved bhaiya she knew was buried somewhere deep inside.

“Huaa kya hai aur a-ap aise kyu baithe ho aur wo bhi yaha?” she asked quietly.

He looked down. “I don’t know if I even have the right to… after everything…”

Kaushiki took his hand in hers, firm despite the tremble in her voice “Pehle shant ho jaiye ap hua kya hai”

Ved hesitated, then finally gave a slow nod. She helped him to his feet, his limbs heavy, water dripping from his sleeves. For a moment, they stood there — brother and sister — soaked to the bone, but together.

As they walked back toward his car, she squeezed his hand.

“Pehle andar car me chalo fir btao aap ki hua kya hai?”

Ved looked down at her “Tu ghar ja, mai baad me ata”

Kaushiki frowned “Chup chap chliye mere sath” she pulled him.

________________________

The sun had started to dip behind the buildings, casting long shadows on the dusty road. Bhoomi and Aryan sat on a worn-out bench by the roadside, their faces weary from the day’s relentless search. One room after another had slipped out of reach—some too expensive, some too cramped, and others simply unwilling to rent to a single mother.

Aryan clutched her hand tightly, his eyes wide and uncertain “Mumma, kya humein koi room nahi milega?” he asked, his voice soft, almost trembling.

Bhoomi’s heart sank at his innocent question. For a moment, she was silent, unsure how to soothe the little soul who trusted her completely. Then, gathering her courage, she cupped his cheeks gently and gave him a reassuring smile “Beta kehte hain na, koshish karne walon ki kabhi haar nahi hoti” she said, her voice tender yet firm “Humari bhi nahi hogi”

Aryan nodded, drawing strength from her words. They sat there a little longer, sharing a few lighthearted moments, trying to lighten the heavy air.

Just then, Aryan’s eyes caught something across the street. He stood up excitedly and pointed, his face lighting up with hope.

“Maa wo dekho wahan ek board laga hai ‘To Let’ ka…ek baar aur dekh lete hain? Kya pata yeh room achha ho… aur affordable bhi”

Bhoomi followed his gaze and saw the modest house with peeling paint and a faded sign swinging slightly in the breeze. A small chuckle escaped her lips as she looked at her son “Bilkul apne papa ki parchhaai hai tu... haar maan’na jaanta hi nahi” she whispered to herself, pride welling up in her chest.

Then she stood up, brushing the dust off her dupatta, and said with a hopeful smile,

“Chal, dekh lete hain shayad iss baar kismet saath de hi de”

Hand in hand, the two walked toward the house—carrying with them nothing but hope, determination, and the unshakable bond between a mother and her son.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

𝑺𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓??

𝑫𝒊𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 16?

𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 ✨❤️

𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒔.

𝑩𝒚𝒆𝒆𝒆𝒆𝒆𝒆!!

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 💖

𝑳𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 💕

~𝑵𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒙𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔_