"Trial by Fire: From Ashes of Pain to a Flicker of Hope"
The roar of the explosion jolted Aditya from his sleep. Startled and terrified, he burst into loud sobs. His small body trembled with fear as his eyes searched for safety. Abhay ji rushed to him and scooped him up into his arms, holding him close. "It's okay, son, I'm here," he whispered, trying to calm him.
But no reassurance could stop what was coming. As Abhay ji moved toward the door and opened it, a fierce blaze erupted inside, hurtling toward Aditya's bed. Without thinking, Abhay ji ran, lifted Aditya, and wrapped him tightly in a blanket. Aditya clung to him, his pale face pressed against Abhay ji's chest.
Smoke began to fill the house. It thickened with every breath, choking the air. Suddenly, a loud crash rang out—the sound of shattering glass. Abhay ji turned to look, hoping for a rescuer, but it was just the heat and pressure breaking the windows. Smoke poured in relentlessly. He began to cough violently, the toxic air burning his lungs.
Still holding Aditya, he ran toward the staircase. But just as he stepped forward, a burning wooden beam collapsed from above, striking him and knocking them both down the stairs. Abhay ji tumbled down, and Aditya slipped from his arms, landing hard on the floor. A painful cry escaped the child's lips—his legs had been injured.
Outside, the explosion had startled the neighborhood. People rushed out of their homes, gasping at the sight of flames devouring Abhay ji's house. Shouts echoed through the air, someone called the fire brigade, and within minutes, fire trucks and an ambulance arrived. The firemen worked to control the blaze as police set up barriers.
Three people were pulled from the burning house and rushed to the ambulance. Abhay ji, barely conscious, was given oxygen and put on a drip.
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At Delhi University
As exams ended, Shivani hugged Riya tightly, tears streaming down her face. "Don't forget me when you go back to your village," she said.
"I won't," Riya replied, equally emotional. "And you must not forget me either. If Babu ji hadn't come today, I wouldn't be leaving you."
They wiped each other's tears, shared one last embrace, and walked away in opposite directions, hearts heavy with parting.
As Shivani neared her home, an ambulance sped past her, making her heart skip a beat. Smoke billowed into the sky. As she got closer, her worst fears came true—her house was in flames. Firefighters were dousing the blaze, and the area was surrounded by police tape.
"Papa! Papa!" she screamed, pushing against the barriers, desperate to get in. A neighbor grabbed her and said, "They've been taken to City Hospital."
Without another word, Shivani ran.
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At the Hospital
Panting and breathless, Shivani arrived and found Sharma ji in the waiting area. She ran to him, and he helped her sit down.
Just then, a doctor emerged from the OT and called out, "Who's here for the patient?"
Shivani stood up, trembling. "Doctor, I am…"
The doctor interrupted, "The patient has inhaled too much smoke. His throat is badly infected, and his heartbeat is unstable. We need to perform emergency heart surgery. If we don't operate within two hours, his life will be at risk."
Shivani's voice trembled with urgency and rage. "Then why are you wasting time? Do the surgery!"
The doctor replied calmly, "It will cost around 15 lakh rupees."
Without hesitation, Shivani said, "Go ahead. I'll arrange the money."
The doctor nodded and walked away.
Another doctor exited the adjacent OT. Shivani rushed to him. "Doctor! How is my brother?"
"He has fractures in both legs," the doctor said. "He'll need to stay in the hospital for two weeks."
Turning to Sharma ji, Shivani asked, "Uncle, can you stay here with them?"
"I'm sorry, dear," he said gently. "Kirti isn't well, and I can't leave her alone." With that, he left.
He wasn't lying. He had spent all his savings on his son's education. That son had married without informing him and now lived in Bangalore. Kirti's health had declined, and the household ran on Sharma ji's small pension.
Shivani sat there, lost, the weight of everything crashing down on her. But then, she stood up and ran.
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At Niranjan's House
The guard stopped her at the gate. "Please let me in!" she pleaded.
Hearing her cries, Niranjan and Meeta came outside.
"What is this ruckus?" Niranjan barked.
"Uncle, please… my father and brother are in the hospital. I need 15 lakh rupees," she said with folded hands.
Meeta sneered. "Why should we care? We told your father this morning—we're breaking this relationship."
Shivani fell to Meeta's feet, tears streaming. "Even if you don't see us as family, please help me as a human being."
Just then, Meeta's daughter-in-law, Manjari, appeared. "We'll give you the money," she said, "but you'll have to clean the house. Finish it in half an hour."
"Thank you, Bhabhi!" Shivani said gratefully.
Manjari showed her the rooms and left. Shivani got to work immediately.
But then, a door opened. Prem came out, buttoning his shirt, followed by a foreign woman adjusting her clothes. She looked at Shivani and asked, "Hubby, is this the girl whose dad has heart issues and mom has asthma?"
Shivani's heart shattered, but she said nothing and continued working.
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Half an Hour Later
"Bhabhi, I'm done," Shivani said.
Manjari handed her a wad of notes—fifteen hundred rupees.
"What is this?" Shivani asked in disbelief.
"Money," Manjari replied coolly.
"But… you said…"
"I said I'd give you money. I never said 15 lakh. Who pays that for cleaning?"
Shivani clenched her fists. "This is wrong. One day, you'll regret this."
Meeta slapped her hard. "How dare you speak like that in our home?" She went on to insult Abhay ji and Asha ji—and in her rage, revealed their hidden motives.
Furious, Shivani slapped her back, making Meeta stagger. Without another word, she turned and ran from the house, tears flooding her eyes.
She looked up to the sky. In her moment of helplessness, one name came to her lips—Grandfather.
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Two Months Earlier…
A day before Shivani's engagement, Abhay ji and his family visited their ancestral village. When Rudra Pratap Singh heard of their arrival, rage boiled inside him.
Using his walking stick, he stepped out and saw Abhay at the gate. "Babu ji, Pranam," Abhay said, offering a card. "Shivani's engagement is tomorrow."
Rudra's voice thundered, "Who are you? I don't recognize you."
"I'm your son, Abhay…"
"No!" Rudra shouted. "Abhay died thirty years ago. That man is dead to me."
He insulted Asha ji, and a heated argument broke out. Hearing the commotion, Abhay ji's younger brothers stepped outside…
(To be continued...)
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