After a day of rest and the surreal integration of my future memories, I was discharged from the hospital that evening. My parents drove me home, and as soon as I was back in my room, my mind began racing, laying out a new roadmap for my life. First and foremost, I needed to speak with my Grandma, face to face.
I quickly refocused, looking at the calendar's larger picture. Spring break was just around the corner. That was my window. I decided to wait until the morning to talk to my parents and finally succumbed to a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next morning, I was up with the sun. I glanced at the clock in disbelief—it was barely past 6 a.m. I tried to fall back asleep, but my body felt completely rested, buzzing with a strange energy. I finally gave up, got out of bed, did some stretches, and went through my morning routine. I decided to make the most of this unexpected wakefulness.
My plan was simple: bribe my parents with a delicious, homemade breakfast. If you're wondering how a seven-year-old could possibly be a competent cook, let's just say this wasn't my first time around the block. My reincarnated self came with a few extra skills.
I set out a feast of poha (flattened rice), cooling raita (yoghurt with spices), and a vibrant fruit salad. Just as I finished, my parents walked into the kitchen, their eyes widening in surprise. They knew I could cook, but I was never a morning person. This was completely out of character.
My father, still half-asleep, sat down at the table and joked, "Where did the sunrise from today?"
"From the east, as always," I replied with a smirk. The plate of poha I placed in front of him was steaming, a fragrant mix of turmeric, mustard seeds, and curry leaves.
My mom joined us, her expression a mix of surprise and a hint of concern. "Looks like you got up pretty early."
"Yeah, a little before sunrise," I confirmed, setting a bowl of fruit salad on the table.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked.
"Perfectly. I feel totally rested. Like, really rested."
My dad took a bite of the poha and his eyes widened. "Well, this is fantastic! And a good habit to have, you know. My mother used to wake me up before sunrise when I was young."
"Ah, mine too," Mom chimed in. "She'd say the morning hours were the most blessed."
"Looks like our parents shared some habits," Dad said, turning his attention back to his breakfast with gusto. "So, why the special breakfast, Ryan? This isn't just about being a good son, is it?"
I decided to be direct. "It's a bribe."
My dad paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "A what?"
I sighed, a gesture I realized I'd picked up from my past life. No point in beating around the bush. "I wanted something, so I made a bribe. And now that you've taken a bite, you can't refuse."
My dad's lips curled into a broad smile, the kind that showed he appreciated a good game. "Very well. State your demands, and I shall decide whether your bribe is worth my corruption."
"Heh. If I can't corrupt you, I'll just corrupt the Chinese government—Mom—to assist me," I said playfully, pointing to her.
My mom rolled her eyes but couldn't hide a smile. "Hoh, looks like you have very deep pockets," my dad said, a laugh in his voice.
"Sigh," Mom let out a theatrical sigh, looking at us both in mock exasperation. "You two and your strange dealings."
I knew I'd pushed the fun far enough. Time to get serious.
"I want to go to India to visit Grandma and Grandpa during next weekend," I stated plainly, my voice losing all trace of a joke.
My dad's smile faded. "You know you can go during summer break. It's a much longer visit."
"No," I insisted, my tone firm. "I have to go during as soon as possible."
"Why the rush, sweetie?" Mom asked, her concern now very real. "You know we can't leave the country right now; the contract with the research lab still has a few months left. And you're only seven. Will you travel alone?"
"I can't tell you why yet, but I have to go," I said, looking from my mom to my dad. "Even if I travel alone."
My dad's face hardened. "Ryan, that's not an option. Your grandparents would never agree to that, and neither will we."
"So, if I can convince Grandma, you'll let me go?" I asked, a glimmer of an idea forming in my head.
Mom exchanged a look with Dad, and I could tell they thought it was an impossible condition. "Sure," she said, almost sarcastically. "If you can convince your Grandma, we'll talk."
I turned to my dad, who was still looking unconvinced. "What about your Grandfather?"
My mom and I looked at my dad simultaneously and said, in perfect unison, "Does he have a say in the house?"
He threw his hands up in defeat, a smile breaking through his serious expression. "Fine! If you can convince my mother, I will arrange for your travel. She's the boss of us all, anyway."
"Great!" I said, my heart soaring with a strange mix of relief and purpose.
Mom looked at me, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in her eyes. "You sure sound confident. What are you going to say to her?"
I just smiled and finished my breakfast. I'd save that answer for Grandma.
After my parents left for work, I called my grandparents' house. My grandpa, David Angelo, picked up the phone.
"Hello?" he answered.
"Grandfather, it's me, Ryan," I replied, my voice a little nervous despite my confidence.
"Oh, Ryan, my boy! How are you?" he said, his voice instantly warm and welcoming.
"I'm great, Grandfather. How are you?"
"Healthy as always, thank the Lord. So, what made you remember your grandparents? It's a pleasant surprise."
"I need to talk to Grandmother."
"Hoh, and you can't tell your grandfather?" he asked, a touch of amusement in his voice. "What's so secret you can't tell me?"
"It's not that I can't tell you," I said, choosing my words carefully. "It's that I need to talk to her specifically."
He was silent for a moment. "I see. A boy's gotta have secrets. All right, I'll give the phone to Shanti."
After a moment, my grandmother's voice came on the line, soft but sharp. "What is it, Rudra?"
My breath hitched. I took a deep breath. "Grandmother, are you alone?"
I heard her shoo away my grandfather, his voice muffled in the background. Then she returned, her voice now a hushed whisper. "Yes, now I am. What is so urgent that you called so early?"
"I need you to convince my parents to let me visit you during next weekend."
"Why?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion. "If you don't give me a good reason, don't expect me to support you."
I lowered my voice, my next words holding the weight of a lifetime of memory. "It's about my name, Rudra. And I think the upheaval I must face has begun."
A long, heavy pause hung in the air. I could almost feel her mind working, connecting the pieces. Finally, she spoke, her voice laced with a newfound seriousness I had never heard before. "It looks like you know something. Something you shouldn't. Fine. I will talk with your parents and arrange your visit. But I will need to make some preparations of my own. Take care." She dropped the call before I could say anything else.
For the next few days, my parents and Grandma were in constant contact, ironing out the travel details. Meanwhile, I spent my time poring over various companies and stock market data, filling notebooks with important information. My plan was simple: I was going to rebuild my financial empire again, and this time, I had a much better starting point.