Mumbai

In one part of the city, the red powder of victory (gulal) was being tossed into the air. In another, a girl hung between life and death in a hospital. A black Thar screeched to a halt outside the hospital entrance. Two boys stepped out. They appeared to be the same age. One wore a white kurta and blue jeans, while the other was dressed in a black suit. Their clothes were stained with gulal.

The boy in black reached for the rear door, but it opened before he could touch it. A young man stepped out wearing a white kurta pyjama paired with a black waistcoat. His hair was neatly styled, a few streaks of gulal marked his cheeks, and he sported a light beard and mustache. His face was entirely expressionless.

As he removed his sunglasses, his eyes were revealed to be bloodshot. All three of them were twenty four years old.

The boy in the white kurta spoke as they walked. “Her condition is critical. Every effort is being made to suppress the matter. Her family even sent the police back. Maybe if you talk to them, something might happen? I haven't told the others about her condition yet. The shocking part is that all of this happened right inside our department on the college campus.”

The three of them reached a ward. The girl’s parents sat there with their heads bowed. Even after seeing the boy, they ignored him. He went and stood outside the glass door. Inside, a girl lay surrounded by machines.

He opened the door and stepped inside. The constant 'beep' of the monitors immediately hit his ears. His eyes softened. He couldn't muster the courage to go closer. Old memories and the sound of her laughter echoed in his mind.

At this moment, the marks of someone's brutality were clearly visible on the girl's face. Suddenly, her eyelashes fluttered. Opening her eyes slightly, she saw a blurry silhouette. Her breathing quickened instantly, causing the machines to alert. The boy rushed to her side. “Siddhi... Siddhi, it’s me. Yash... Yashvardhan Jadhav.”

Hearing his name, Siddhi began to calm down, but her eyes welled up, and tears escaped from the corners. Yashvardhan sat beside her and wiped the tears. “Who was that dog? Just give me a name, and you know what Yash will do.”

“Mom and Dad... said not to say anything. We can't face them, and you... you will get into trouble. Your father became the Chief Minister today, didn't he? Many congratulations. We were going to celebrate in college, but... but...” Siddhi’s breathing became labored again.

“Shh... relax. Don't worry about the consequences. Don't listen to what anyone told you; focus on what I'm asking. I’ll handle what comes next. I just need a name. A name,” Yash said.

Siddhi’s throat constricted; she was still struggling to breathe. Just then, a nurse entered and said. “What are you doing, sir? No one is permitted inside. Please leave, the patient is panicking.”

Siddhi grabbed Yashvardhan’s hand. “Don't go anywhere, I'm scared Yash... he will have me killed. I... I don't want to die.”

Yashvardhan closed his eyes, his lashes becoming slightly wet. Stroking her hand, he said. “Nothing will happen to you, I'm here.”

Siddhi’s grip on his hand tightened, and suddenly, everything went still. The nurse panicked, checking the patient and ringing the emergency bell.

A tear rolled down Yashvardhan’s cheek. Siddhi had left them, and she hadn't even named her perpetrator. Passing his hand over her open eyes, Yash closed them. As he stepped out of the room, a team of doctors rushed in.

“Yash...” the boy in the white kurta called out softly.

“Vinay. I want every single detail of this case by this evening,” Yashvardhan told the boy in black.

“Yes, Bhau (brother),” the boy replied.

Yashvardhan then turned toward Siddhi's parents. “What do you think? If you hide it, no one will find out?”

The father lowered his head and began to sob, while the mother stood up, joining her hands in a plea. “I beg of you, son, don't do anything. I have two more daughters. We will have no choice but to consume poison and die. We told her so many times not to get involved in this politics. It's a quagmire. But she was obsessed.”

Yashvardhan couldn't stand to listen to their rambling any longer and walked away.

“Yash...” the boy in the white kurta shouted, running after him. After a few steps, Yashvardhan said. “Go with Vinay, Samar. I want to be alone.” Saying this, he walked ahead.

In another room of the same hospital, a boy opened his eyes. Eyes of a stunning grey color. Holding his head, he looked around. Seeing the light filling the room, he remained stunned for a moment, as if he wasn't used to it.

His body had grown weak. With great difficulty, he managed to sit up. There were many marks of both old and new injuries on his arms and legs. His hair, which was cut oddly, reached down past his shoulders. Upon sitting up, it fell over his face.

He seemed to be breathing with a tremor of fear, and a thought crossed his mind. “Is this a dream?”

Just then the door opened, and he thought the dream would break, but a nurse walked in. “Oh! You're awake? You were unconscious for the past two days.”

“Where... where am I?” the boy asked.

The nurse paused. Setting the tray of medicines aside, she said. “You are in a hospital.”

“Who brought me here?” he asked.

The nurse took a deep breath and opened a drawer in the bedside table. It contained the boy's clothes along with a letter placed on top.

“The rest of your belongings are kept there,” the nurse said, pointing toward a bag in the room. Without a word, the boy took the letter and gestured for her to leave. His hands were practically shaking. It was difficult to think or understand anything at that moment.

Upon opening the letter, he saw someone had written in beautiful handwriting. “Dear Surya...”

The boy covered his mouth. His eyes filled with tears, and the letters became a blur. Wiping the tears with the back of his hand, he read further. “News of your death had reached me, so I thought you had left me. But you were alive, spending days in that captivity God knows how. Had I even a hint earlier, I would have reached you sooner. Now it feels like everything that happened was a conspiracy from beginning to end. Don't worry, I am here. I will handle everything. You just focus on taking care of yourself. I have left your belongings and money. When things stabilize, I will call you. You are miles away from Rajasthan. no one will recognize you there. Start fresh in a new city and yes, trust no one but yourself. I won't be there to protect you.”

At the end, it was signed. “Devil.”

The boy pressed the letter to his chest. It had been a long time since he had seen words filled with such a sense of belonging.

Soon, he got ready in new clothes. He wore a long, knee length coat over them. His hair was still disheveled. Taking careful steps, he tried his best to walk straight. He opened the bag. there was a phone inside.

The phone had a SIM card but nothing else. Sliding the phone into his pocket, he slung the bag over his shoulder and stepped out of the room.

After walking a short distance, he stopped, leaning against a wall for support. Even walking a few steps was exhausting. He began to sweat, and his breathing grew heavy. The weight of the bag felt heavy too. Setting it down, he looked around. A water cooler was nearby.

He moved forward without looking at the path, and suddenly, he collided with someone coming from the opposite direction.

Even that simple collision proved too much for him. Stumbling, he was about to fall backward, but the person in front caught both his arms with ease.

The boy was leaning back. The hair scattered over his face fell away. Swallowing hard, he opened his eyes, which met directly with a pair of deep, bloodshot eyes. For a moment, the boy shuddered upon seeing those eyes. But then, regaining his composure, he grabbed the stranger's collar for support. “I am fine, let go.”

“Surya...” Yash's cold, low voice reached the boy's ears as he held his shoulders. It was as if a cold gust of wind had passed through him. Someone had recognized him here, in this unknown place?

He grew frantic. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Gathering strength from nowhere, he shoved Yashvardhan away and bolted in the opposite direction. He didn't even want to look back to see if that person was an acquaintance or an enemy.

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