Chaitanya tightly held Anvitha's hands and pulled her onto his chest… he embraced her and, thinking she was Aadhira, hugged her tightly and kissed her cheeks.
As soon as she felt his saliva on her skin, it was as though her soul was leaving her body. Anvitha felt like screaming, "I'm not Aadhira!"
She tried to pull away from him. But his grip was like iron — she couldn't escape his embrace.
Chaitanya's breath could be heard near her ears… and when he came close and repeatedly whispered "Aadhira, Aadhira," all she felt was a deep pain that felt like her life itself was being drained.
He was embracing his sister, thinking she was his beloved Aadhira. Even God wouldn't tolerate such a thing, Anvitha thought, though his touch was melting her resistance.
Anvitha gradually sank into his embrace. For a while, the elder stood silently watching their union. Realizing that Anvitha had completely given in to Chaitanya's hold, he stepped forward and gently separated them.
"Look here, Chaitanya... In your current condition, you shouldn't let emotions overpower you," he said, and pulled Anvitha away from him. As soon as Chaitanya let go, she could finally breathe. She immediately stood behind the elder for support. But Chaitanya was unwilling to accept the separation from "Aadhira." He stretched out his hands toward her again, crying, "Aadhira… Aadhira…"
Despite the elder's attempts to calm him, Chaitanya kept grabbing and hugging Anvitha again and again. Seeing how distressed she was, the elder had no choice but to administer another dose of medicine through the IV.
Even as he fell into unconsciousness repeating "Aadhira… Aadhira…", Chaitanya kept Anvitha's hands tightly in his grasp. She couldn't even remove them. She wondered how he could love her sister so deeply — and if he did, how could he have left her?
Slowly, Anvitha managed to slip her hands free from his. Chaitanya was now fast asleep. The two of them exited the room.
After leaving him, Anvitha told the elder that she would return the next day and left the hospital. Her heart was heavy… every fiber of her being ached to see Athvaith.
She smiled bitterly at her fate. The same figure that had haunted her mind's eye for years was now revealed to be her sister's lover — a truth she could not bear.
She had raised Athvaith as her own child, always believing he was Aadhira's son. She never imagined he might be the son of the man she had fallen for.
She couldn't suppress her desire to hold him. She immediately hailed an auto-rickshaw and went to the playschool.
The staff there were surprised to see her.
"Madam, you said you'd come in the evening… you're here already?"
"Yes," she replied, "I finished my work early. I'll bring the child back tomorrow. I'm taking him now."
She went inside to see Athvaith, who was sleeping peacefully. Seeing him in the same posture as Chaitanya had just been in, she approached him gently and observed his face closely. He looked exactly like Chaitanya.
She could no longer hold back. She picked up the child and hugged him tightly. Waking slightly from sleep in his mother's arms, Athvaith clung to her neck.
"Mommy, you're here? Shall we go home? I'm bored here…" he mumbled sleepily.
"Yes, my darling," she replied, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. She hugged him close, got into the same auto-rickshaw, and went home.
After putting him to bed, she lay down beside him and began to think about Chaitanya.
Nearly nine years ago, after her NEET exam results were released, they had gone to Chennai for counseling and certificate verification. That was the first time she saw Chaitanya.
The incident from that day still played in her mind like a movie… even now, thinking about it made her skin tingle.
Back then, Anvitha had been full of life. Aadhira, on the other hand, was not like that. She would never go anywhere without her parents' permission. But Anvitha was her opposite — she couldn't sit still in one place.
That day too, during the counseling, Anvitha flitted around like a butterfly. Raised in Kumbakonam, her mother Shakuntala was very strict. She never allowed modern clothing like jeans or western wear — even after finishing 12th grade, they both wore traditional pavadai-dhavani for the counseling.
Seeing Anvitha wandering around restlessly, her mother scolded her,
"Anvitha, why are you roaming like that? They're about to call for certificate verification. Come and sit here."
"I'm coming, Mom. I need to use the restroom urgently," she replied.
"I'll come with you — don't go alone. How do you even know where it is?" her mother asked.
"Oh come on, Mom! You'll follow me to the bathroom too? I know where it is — I'll be quick," she said, ignoring her mother's calls and running off. But she soon had to face the consequences.
The counseling was held on the third floor, where everyone had gathered. There was a restroom on that floor, but it was crowded. She remembered seeing another restroom on the ground floor and decided to go there.
As she went downstairs, the number of people decreased. It was a large medical college, and since it was holiday time, it seemed deserted. She headed toward the restroom, noticing a sign that said "Women."
On her way out, after washing her hands, she turned around — and froze. Two men were standing behind her.
"Well, well, a little girl in pavadai-dhavani… what's she doing here?" one of them said.
"She must've needed to go urgently, poor thing… came to find a quiet spot, huh?" said the other.
Anvitha immediately realized the danger. She had to escape. But as she tried to run, one of them grabbed her dhavani and pulled her back.