chapter 21 - silence and a New beginning

It had been two months since Aaradhyanshi slipped into a coma, and every passing day felt like an eternity. The hospital room in Varanasi had become our second home. None of us left the city; we couldn’t bear to. She was here, fighting for her life, and leaving her side felt like betrayal.

The boys were deeply affected. Their laughter had disappeared, replaced by somber silence. Even the smallest tasks seemed like monumental efforts. And me? I was barely holding on. Aaradhyanshi wasn’t just my princess ; she was the glue that held us together. Without her, we were fragments of ourselves.

Every day, we took turns sitting by her bedside. Her pale face, framed by her dark hair, was peaceful, as if she were simply sleeping. I held her hand often, silently begging her to come back to us. We brought her flowers, played her favorite music, and even read aloud from her favorite books.

“She wouldn’t like seeing us like this,” Arjun said one evening, his voice cracking.

“She’d tell us to get our act together,” Karan added, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears.

But none of us could move on. How could we, when she was still here, suspended between life and death?

Two months in, Daksh finally showed up. The moment he walked into the hospital, the boys were on him.

“Where the hell have you been?” Arjun demanded, his fists clenched.

“She’s been lying here for two months, and you’re only showing up now?” Karan added, his tone venomous.

Daksh raised his hands, his expression calm yet weary. “I’ve been working on something. Hear me out.”

“Working on what?” I asked coldly, standing between him and Aaradhyanshi’s bed. “You should have been here.”

He looked at her, his face softening. “I found her original family.”

The room fell silent.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice low.

Daksh stepped forward, holding a file. “The history has changed because of her. Her name is now in the annals of time. Aaradhyanshi Raghavendra—the youngest princess who gave her life to save someone. She’s a legend, Vikrant. Even in our time, there are portraits of her teenage years. She’s remembered as a hero.”

We were stunned.

Daksh continued, his voice heavy with emotion. “Her story as Aaradhya is over. Her father was arrested for his crimes, and I made sure justice was served. Aaradhya is gone, but Aaradhyanshi… she has a chance to live as herself, with her true identity.”

He placed the file on the table beside her bed. “This contains everything—her original family records, her lineage. She belongs to the Raghavendra family, a royal line that spans generations. She was reborn into her own family, Vikrant. It’s poetic, isn’t it?”

I looked at her, my chest tightening. Aaradhyanshi had always sought freedom, a life where she could be herself. Daksh had given her that.

“She wanted her own identity,” Daksh said softly. “Not as Aaradhya. And now she has it.”

He turned to leave, pausing at the door. “Tell her it’s my gift to her. She deserves it.”

As the sun set, casting a warm orange glow over the room, I sat by her side, holding her hand.

“You hear that, anshu ?” I murmured. “You’re free now. You can live as yourself, without anyone’s shadow.”

Her hand was still, but I held it tightly, as if my grip alone could pull her back to us.

“I need you to come back,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “We need you. I need you.”

The boys entered the room, their faces weary but hopeful. We sat together, talking to her, sharing stories, reminding her of all the reasons she needed to wake up.

It was late evening when I felt her fingers twitch in mine. My breath hitched, and I looked at her face. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, I thought I was dreaming.

“Aaradhyanshi?” I said, my voice trembling.

She blinked, her gaze unfocused at first, but then she looked at me. “Vikrant…”

The boys crowded around, their relief palpable. Tears streamed down my face as I cupped her cheek. “You’re back.”

She smiled faintly. “I’m back.”

As she regained her strength, we told her everything that had happened in the two months she was unconscious.

Daksh’s revelation about her lineage. The arrest of Aaradhya’s father. The portraits of her as a teenage princess in the annals of history.

She listened quietly, her eyes glistening. “So, Aaradhya’s story is over,” she said softly.

“Yes,” I said. “But your story is just beginning.”

She looked down at the locket around her neck, her expression thoughtful. “The locket… it brought me back .”

I nodded. “And it gave you a second chance to live as yourself.”

She reached for my hand, her grip weak but steady. “Thank you, Vikrant. For staying by my side.”

“Always,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “You’re not just my princess , Aaradhyanshi. You’re our family.”

The boys nodded, their eyes shining with unshed tears.

She smiled, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I’m ready to live as Aaradhyanshi now. No more shadows, no more running.”

And in that moment, I knew we had her back—not just in body, but in spirit. Aaradhyanshi Raghavendra was home.

Two months had passed since Aaradhyanshi woke up from her coma, and in that time, she had transformed. The shadows of guilt and pain that had once haunted her were replaced by a radiant peace. Her laughter returned, and so did her sharp wit. Watching her recover was like watching a phoenix rise from its ashes—stronger, brighter, and more alive than ever.

She was happy, truly happy, and that happiness was infectious. The boys and I found ourselves smiling more often, our spirits lifted by her presence. But amidst the laughter, there was a quiet determination in her eyes, as though she had made peace with her past and was ready to embrace her future.

One evening, as we sat on the balcony of our rented apartment in Varanasi, she turned to me, her expression soft yet resolute.

“Vikrant,” she began, her voice steady. “I want to go to the Manikarnika Ghat. There’s something I need to do.”

I studied her face, searching for any signs of hesitation, but there were none. “Are you sure?” I asked gently.

She nodded. “It’s important.”

I didn’t press further. “Alright,” I said. “We’ll go tomorrow.”

The next morning, we made our way to the Manikarnika Ghat. The air was heavy with the scent of incense and the sound of temple bells mingled with the murmur of the Ganges. The sacred river flowed calmly, its waters glinting under the morning sun.

Aaradhyanshi stood at the edge of the ghat, the locket clutched tightly in her hand. For a moment, she stared at it, her expression unreadable. Then, with a deep breath, she threw the locket into the river.

The splash was small, almost insignificant, but the act itself felt monumental.

“I don’t want this locket to continue its legacy,” she said softly, her voice steady. “No one else should have to bear the burden of three deaths. It ends with me.”

I hummed in agreement, understanding the weight of her decision.

We sat down on the stone steps, watching the river flow. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us and the gentle rhythm of the Ganges.

“So,” I said after a while, breaking the silence. “Have you studied more about your family?”

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “I have. The Raghavendra lineage is fascinating. They were warriors, leaders, and visionaries. But they were also flawed, like everyone else. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Do you want to visit them?” I asked.

“Someday,” she said. “When I’m ready. I need to understand myself fully before I step into that world.”

I nodded, respecting her choice.

After a few moments of silence, I turned to her, my heart pounding. “Anshu ,” I began, my voice hesitant.

She raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “What is it, Vikrant? You’re not usually this nervous.”

I chuckled, scratching the back of my neck. “I was wondering… would you be my official girlfriend?”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and then she burst into laughter. “You’re asking me this here, at the Manikarnika Ghat? Really, Vikrant?”

I felt my cheeks heat up. “Well, it’s a significant place, isn’t it? A place of endings and beginnings.”

She smiled, her laughter fading into a soft warmth. “Yes,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Relief and joy flooded through me, and without thinking, I leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

We sat there for a while longer, the weight of the moment sinking in.

“I still can’t believe this whole rebirth thing is real,” I admitted. “It feels like something out of a book.”

She smiled, her gaze fixed on the river. “Life is unpredictable, Vikrant. You never know when a miracle will happen. Sometimes, it’s stranger than fiction.”

I couldn’t argue with that. As we sat there, hand in hand, I felt a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in months. Aaradhyanshi was here, alive and happy.