Radhika
Consciousness returned to me in fragments—first, the soft pressure of expensive sheets against my skin, then a dull throbbing at the back of my head. I found myself in an unfamiliar room, lying on a soft bed surrounded by walls I didn't recognize. The furniture, the scent in the air—everything was foreign.
As my mind cleared, fragments of memory surfaced: a little girl in danger, my desperate attempt to help, and then... nothing. Pain. Darkness. My heart clenched with worry. "How is she? Is the girl okay?"
I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my head like lightning. "Ah!" I couldn't suppress the wince.
Almost immediately, the sound of hurried footsteps approached. The door swung open, and three women entered—an elderly woman with silver hair and a regal bearing, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, and a younger woman who looked to be in her thirties.
"You're awake" the middle-aged woman said, relief evident in her voice. "Are you feeling better now, beta?"
I pressed my fingertips gingerly against the bandage on my head. "I'm... okay" I replied cautiously, my eyes darting between the unfamiliar faces.
The questions tumbled out before I could stop them. "Where am I? Who are you people?" My voice carried a tremor of nervousness.
The elderly woman stepped forward, her silk sari rustling softly as she moved. "I am Janki Agnihotri. The little girl you saved this morning is my great-granddaughter, Pari." Her voice carried the weight of authority, but her eyes were kind. "You're in our home. The doctor said you have a mild concussion, but nothing too serious."
My thoughts immediately flew to the child. "The girl—is she alright?"
"Thanks to you, she doesn't have a scratch," the younger woman said, her eyes shining with gratitude. "I'm Vedika, Pari's mother."
My stomach dropped. "Maa and Papa—they must be so worried about me." I reached for my phone, panic rising.
"Don't worry, beta" the middle-aged woman—who I assumed must be Pari's grandmother—said. "We found your phone and your mother's number. We've already informed your parents. They're on their way."
The tension in my shoulders eased slightly at this news, but another question remained. "How did I get here?"
Before anyone could answer, the door burst open again. "Radhika!"
Maa burst through the door, her face streaked with tears. She rushed to me, pulling me into a fierce embrace that spoke of every fear she'd harbored. When she finally released me, Papa appeared, his hands carefully checking me from head to toe, his touch gentle but thorough.
I could see the worry etched in every line of their faces, the relief now flooding their features.
"Maa, Papa, mujhe kuch nahi hua hai, dekhiye main bilkul thik hoon" I said, trying to reassure them that I was completely fine. The last thing I wanted was for them to worry.
(Maa, Papa, nothing happened to me, see I'm absolutely fine)
"Haa, wo toh mujhe dikh hi raha hai" my mother replied sarcastically, her fingers hovering near the bandage on my head. She hugged me again, and I felt her trembling slightly. I realized she must have been terrified when she got the call.
(Yes, I can see that)
The elderly woman smiled at our reunion. "Beta, you rest now. I'll have some breakfast sent up for you." She left with the others, my parents following to give me space.
❊--❊
After finishing the meal—which was delicious despite my diminished appetite—I heard the patter of tiny feet outside my door. A moment later, the door creaked open, and a small face peeked around it. The little girl from the temple—Pari—looked at me with wide, curious eyes.
"Are you feeling better?" she asked in a small voice.
I smiled, gesturing for her to come closer. "Much better, thanks to you."
She tilted her head, confused. "But you saved me."
"We saved each other" I replied, charmed by her innocent concern.
She climbed onto the bed with the unselfconscious ease of childhood and settled on my lap. Her tiny fingers traced the pattern on my kurta. "You're pretty" she declared.
I laughed softly. "Thank you. You're very pretty too."
She beamed at the compliment and suddenly leaned forward to plant a series of enthusiastic kisses on my cheeks. The spontaneous affection touched my heart, and I found myself playing with her, tickling her until her giggles filled the room.
"Pari beta, come here" someone called from the doorway.
The little girl slid off my lap, her expression suddenly turning serious. She reached the door before turning back with a bright smile. "Bye, Mami" she said with a little wave.
I froze. Mami? The word hit me like a physical blow. But that was what children called their mother's brother's wife—their aunt by marriage. Before I could process what she meant, the elderly woman returned with my parents. She approached my bed and took my hand in hers. Her touch was warm, her fingers adorned with antique gold rings. "Beta, we have discussed a certain matter with your parents" she said, her voice gentle but firm. "But we value your opinion as well. Take some time to think about it carefully."
I looked at her in confusion, then at my parents, searching their faces for explanation. My mother's expression was carefully neutral, while my father gave me a slight, encouraging nod.
Once we were alone, the questions burst out of me. "Maa, Papa, what was she talking about?"
My mother sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing a wrinkle from the sheet. "Beta" she began carefully, "they've proposed a marriage alliance between you and their elder son, Avyut."
The room seemed to tilt slightly, and it had nothing to do with my concussion. "Marriage? To someone I've never even met?" My voice rose with incredulity.
"Actually" my father interjected, "there's something we haven't told you." He sat heavily in the chair beside the bed, suddenly looking older. "Your brother... he wanted this."
At the mention of my brother, my heart constricted painfully. It had been five years since the accident that took him from us, but the wound still felt fresh. Tears came without warning, hot and unstoppable.
"What do you mean, Bhai wanted this?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.
My brother had wanted me to marry this man? This stranger? More tears welled in my eyes. "And why didn't you tell me before?"
"Because he wanted you to prioritize your studies first" my mother explained softly. "To establish yourself before thinking about marriage."
"But why him, Papa? Why only him?" The question tore from my throat between sobs.
Maa's arms came around me. "We don't know the answer to that either, beta. But your brother... he seemed so certain."
"But this makes no sense" I protested, the tears flowing faster now.
My father gathered me into his arms as I cried, just as he had when I was a little girl. "Sometimes" he murmured against my hair, "the people we love most keep secrets to protect us."
But as my tears soaked into his shirt, I couldn't help wondering—what was my brother protecting me from? And who, exactly, was this Avyut Sharma that my brother had chosen for me?
My tears fell harder, grief and confusion mixing into something overwhelming. Everything I thought I knew about my future, about my brother's wishes, seemed to be shifting beneath my feet.
But as my tears soaked into his shirt, I couldn't help wondering—why did Bhai wanted me to marry him? And who, exactly, was this Avyut that my brother had chosen for me?
Avyut
The moment I reached home, I called for Saransh. "Get the doctor here immediately" I instructed, carrying her to the guest room.
While the doctor examined her, my phone rang with the worst possible timing. An urgent board meeting that had been scheduled for next week was suddenly moved to today. I informed Dad about the situation and left for the office.
The emergency board meeting had been as tedious as it was unnecessary. Three hours of debate over an acquisition that could have been settled in thirty minutes if emotion hadn't clouded everyone's judgment. The meeting dragged on, and I found myself distracted, thinking about the girl who'd risked her life for Pari. By the time I wrapped up and was discussing my schedule with my personal assistant, the afternoon was waning.
My phone vibrated with a call from my father. "Come home immediately" he said, his tone brooking no argument.
Something in his tone made me straighten. "What's happened? Is everyone alright? Pari—"
"Everyone's fine" he assured me quickly. "But there's an important family matter we need to discuss. In person."
Twenty minutes later, I strode through the front door of our family home to find the entire family gathered in the living room, their faces unusually serious. Their conversation ceased abruptly as I entered. "What's going on?"
The moment I sat beside Dad, all eyes turned to me. "Why is everyone staring at me?" I asked, feeling like I was walking into a trap.
"Beta, teri dadi ko tujhse kuch zaroori baat karni thi" Dad said, his hesitation making my stomach sink.
(Son, your grandmother wanted to talk to you about something important)
"Haan dadi, boliye na" I said, trying to keep my voice light despite the growing tension.
(Yes, grandmother say)
No one spoke for a moment. Then my grandmother, direct as always, cleared her throat. "Avyut, it's time to fulfill your promise."
A cold sensation spread through my chest. There was only one promise she could be referring to, one I'd made five years ago at a hospital bedside, holding the hands of her.
Dadi's next words hit me like a physical blow. "Beta, we want you to marry Radhika."
"But you all know I don't want to get married" I said, frustration bleeding into my voice.
"And you know a promise is sacred," she countered, her gaze unwavering. "Especially one made to the dying."
The words landed like stones in still water, sending ripples of memory through my mind. The promise. How could I have forgotten? My shoulders sagged with the weight of inevitability.
The room fell silent. My sister Vedika di looked at me sympathetically, while Saransh studied the carpet with sudden interest.
"Okay" I said, the word coming out flat and defeated. There was no escaping this now.
After sitting in silence for a moment, another question occurred to me. "Who is Radhika?"
"The girl who saved Pari today" my mother said gently. "Her name is Radhika Mathur."
"But why are you telling me her name?" I asked.
"Because she is the one with whom you are getting married" my mother said.
"We've spoken with her parents" my mother continued. "They are ready for the arrangement."
I paced to the window, looking out at the garden to find some peace but rather than peace I only thought of the girl I had carried from the temple—her delicate features, the determined set of her jaw even in unconsciousness. She'd risked her life for a child she didn't know.
"But first, I want to know her decision" I said firmly. If I was going to be bound by promises and family expectations, at least her choice should matter and for that I need to speak with her.
No one objected as I left the room and made my way upstairs. As I approached the guest room, I heard something that made me pause—the sound of sobbing. Through the partially open door, I could see her cradled in her father's arms, her shoulders shaking with sobs.
I stepped back, unseen. Whatever her parents had told her about our arrangement had clearly upset her deeply. The last thing she needed was a confrontation with a stranger.
Whatever conversation needed to happen between us, it wouldn't be today. Not while she was in pain. I turned away, deciding to give her time to process. As I descended the stairs, I found myself thinking of a promise made long ago, in a moment of grief and desperation. A promise I'd hoped never to fulfill.