The night was heavy, and so was Vivan's heart.
He lay awake on the cold floor of his room, his books open, his pen still resting where he had dropped it hours ago. Thoughts of the upcoming results circled his mind endlessly. Every "what if" dug deeper into his chest, leaving him restless. His eyes burned, but sleep refused to come.
Finally, at the edge of dawn, his body surrendered to exhaustion. He drifted into a fragile sleep, his face pressed against the scattered papers, his breathing shallow, like a child worn out from crying silently inside.
The wooden door clicked open.
A soft creak followed as his father stepped in, the dim morning light falling over his shoulders. For a moment, he simply stood still, his gaze tender. There was something heartbreaking in the sight before him — his son, curled up on the floor instead of the comfort of his bed, shadows of worry still clinging to his sleeping expression.
His father's footsteps were slow, careful, as though afraid to break the silence. He knelt beside Vivan, his rough, work-worn hand brushing gently through his son's messy hair. His eyes softened, holding a mixture of pride, worry, and unspoken love.
"Vivan…" he murmured under his breath, almost like a prayer.
Pulling the blanket from the bed, he draped it carefully over the boy's shoulders, tucking it in as though Vivan were still the little child he once used to carry in his arms. For a moment, his hand lingered — warm against Vivan's head, his thumb gently tracing his temple in a silent blessing.
With a deep breath, his father rose. He looked at his son one last time, eyes shimmering with emotions that words could never hold. Then, as quietly as he had entered, he stepped back, closing the door slowly, leaving only the soft sound of Vivan's breathing and the morning sky whispering beyond the window.
Outside, the first rays of sunlight filtered through the clouds, as if the heavens themselves were keeping watch over the boy who dreamed beneath their whispers.
From the kitchen, a voice floated in—his mother's.
"Vivan beta, breakfast is ready. Come out."
His father quickly raised his finger to his lips. "Shhh… don't wake him. Looks like he couldn't sleep the whole night because of tension. Let him rest."
His mother's expression softened. "Oh… okay. You sit and eat then."
They sat together, and after a pause, she whispered with deep affection, "Our son has worked so hard. May God bless him with the college he has dreamed of."
Her husband smiled with quiet confidence. "He will get it. I am sure."
"Yes," she nodded firmly. "I have faith in both his hard work and in Radha Rani(Hindu goodness)."
The two exchanged a smile, their hearts lightened, and together they murmured softly, "Shri Radhe Radhe."
Back in Vivan's room, his phone buzzed suddenly, breaking the silence. He stirred, rubbing his eyes, reaching for his glasses.
He picked up, his voice still groggy.
"Hello? Who is this?"
From the other side came a dramatic sigh.
"What? Vivan! Don't tell me you didn't even save my name. School just ended, and you've already forgotten me?"
A sleepy laugh escaped Vivan's lips. "Oye, nautanki! I was half asleep, didn't check properly."
Yaman chuckled. "Still sleeping? Let me guess… couldn't sleep all night because of the results?"
"Yeah, yeah," Vivan muttered. "Now tell me—why did you call?"
There was a pause, and then Yaman shouted with joy,
"Congratulations, Vivan! 🎉 The results are out—you got the college you wanted!"
Vivan's heart skipped a beat. He sat up straight. "Really? Are you serious? Don't joke, Yaman!"
"I swear! Check your phone, I just sent you the link," Yaman replied excitedly.
With trembling hands, Vivan rushed to check. The moment his eyes fell on the screen, tears welled up. It was true—he had been admitted to the very college of his dreams.
"Thank you, Yaman," Vivan whispered, voice shaking. "What about you?"
"Got mine too," Yaman laughed. "Now enjoy, bro. Bye!"
"Congratulations to you too! Hello? Hello, Yaman?" Vivan called, but the line had already disconnected.
Overwhelmed, he ran outside, shouting with joy.
"Mummy! Papa! I got the college!"
His parents froze, then rushed to him, their faces glowing with happiness. They pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Really? Our son did it!"
Tears glimmered in his mother's eyes. His father's arms held him firm with pride.
Vivan looked up at the sky, folding his hands. "Thank you, Radha Rani."
His mother clasped his cheeks lovingly. "This is such wonderful news. Now go get ready—we're going to the temple right away. After that, we'll shop for your clothes. After all, my son is going to such a big college!"
His father chuckled. "Okay, Home Minister Sahiba."
Vivan grinned. "Alright, Mummy, I'll get ready right now."
Before heading inside, his mother folded her hands, her lips moving in a quiet prayer. "Thank you, Radha Rani. Keep my son happy forever… protect this precious child."
With hearts full of gratitude and joy, the three of them prepared themselves and set out towards the temple, their steps light, their spirits soaring.