Laxmi Nagar, East Delhi
Raj returned home to find his mother and sister sitting in the living room, completely absorbed in their favorite TV serial.
"Mom, Alia," Raj said with a teasing smile, "you both still watch this worst serial? It's been running for ten years and still hasn't ended. Looks like it will never finish."
He wanted to watch a movie on TV, but seeing them so focused, he decided he would use his laptop instead.
Alia didn't even look away from the screen.
"Raj, use your laptop if you want. Watch whatever nonsense movie you like," she said sharply.
"And don't talk about copying. Even I know Indian cinema is full of copies—'Copywood.' At least serials try to show original content."
Raj raised his hands in defeat.
"Okay, okay. You win again," he said helplessly.
"I'm going to my room. You can continue destroying cinema with your serials."
As always, Raj lost the argument with his sister.
In his room, Raj changed his clothes, opened his laptop, and stared at his project files.
"Let's finish this," he muttered to himself.
"Karan has already completed half of it. Only a little work is left."
Smiling to himself, Raj began working seriously.
Night
The whole family sat together for dinner.
"Raj, how's college going?" Aditya asked while eating.
"It's going well, Dad. No problems," Raj replied with a confident smile.
His father was strict, but Raj knew he always supported him.
Aditya then turned toward Alia.
"Alia, how's the boy whose photo I sent you?" he asked.
"Did you like him?"
Alia's expression changed immediately.
"Father, I don't like him," she said firmly.
"And please stop sending me photos. I'm focusing on my career right now. I'm not interested in marriage."
Aditya sighed. He had sent her many photos of his friends' sons, but she had rejected all of them.
"Okay, okay," Aarti said softly, stepping in.
"Let's eat peacefully. No arguments at the dinner table."
Everyone smiled and continued eating.
Aarti was the backbone of the Verma family—she understood everyone and always wanted to keep the family together and safe.
After dinner, Raj stood up to return to his room and complete the final touches of his project.
"Raj, wait," Aarti called.
"Yes, Mom?" Raj asked, stopping.
"Tomorrow your father has to go to the bank. There's some issue with your account. You should go with him."
Before Raj could reply, Aditya spoke.
" need. I'll go myself," he said.
"Raj has college, and I have other work too. I'll take a taxi."
Raj felt something strange for a moment—an uneasy feeling—but he nodded.
"Okay, Dad."
Just as Raj was about to leave.
"Raj, come to my room," Aditya said calmly.
"I need to talk to you."
Raj froze for a second.
His heart skipped a beat.
Talking privately with his father was rare.
Without knowing why, Raj suddenly felt nervous as he followed him wondering what his father wanted to discuss.
Raj followed his father into the room.
They sat down quietly on the chairs.
Aditya looked at Raj for a long moment, then spoke.
"Raj… after that accident, you changed," he said slowly.
"I know there's something about you that you don't tell us. Some secret."
Raj's heart tightened.
"I don't want you to tell me," Aditya continued gently.
"But a father can feel these things. Ever since that incident, I've sensed something different in you."
His voice trembled.
"When I almost lost you that day… my world shook," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes.
"I wanted to say many things, but I couldn't."
Aditya took a deep breath.
"Raj, as a son, you've always tried to protect this family," he said with pride.
"Today, I want to tell you two things—the same things my father once told me when I was young."
Raj listened silently.
"First," Aditya said firmly,
"never waste your time. Time never comes back. Not just in studies, Raj—but in life."
He paused.
"I have many regrets," he admitted.
"But the biggest one is wasting time."
Raj nodded slowly.
"Second," Aditya continued, his voice deep and serious,
"God has given you a beautiful life. With that life comes responsibility."
"You'll understand this more in the future," he said.
"But never forget it."
The room fell silent.
"Okay, Dad," Raj said sincerely.
Aditya stood up.
"You can go now," he said softly
.
"Life is long, and you have your own path. Just remember—this is your family."
Raj met his father's eyes.
"Yes, Father," he replied in a steady voice.
As Raj walked back to his room, his father's words echoed in his mind.
He knew Aditya was right.
Sitting at his desk, Raj opened his project again—but his focus kept drifting.
Don't waste time.
Remember your responsibilities.
He looked out through the window.
The night was dark, yet the moon shone brightly—silent, calm, watching over everything.
Morning
Raj opened his eyes.
The clock showed it was still early.
He smiled slightly.
"Looks like I don't need much sleep anymore," he thought.
"But when I use my power too much… I sleep like I'm dead."
After getting ready for college, he walked into the kitchen and greeted his parents. He finished breakfast quickly.
"Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad," he said.
"Go carefully," Alia warned.
"Watch the road—don't hit anyone, and don't let anyone hit you."
Raj smiled and left the house on his Activa, riding toward college.
Delhi Science and Technology College
After ID checking at the gate, Raj parked his scooter and walked toward his class.
That's when he noticed her.
A girl in a blue, fashionable dress.
Long hair. Quiet smile.
Pooja.
Raj stopped for a moment without realizing it. She was talking to her friends about an event they were planning to attend today.
Suddenly, Pooja looked at him.
Raj froze
.
His face turned red like a tomato.
Without thinking, he turned away and walked quickly toward his class.
"That guy again," Pooja said to her friend.
"Come on, Pooja," her friend laughed.
"People are already staring."
"Obviously," Pooja said with a smile.
"I'm Pooja Mehra—the most beautiful girl in the arts department."
She waved it off.
"Forget it. Let's get ready. I don't want to be late for today's event."
Raj reached the class on time and sat beside Karan. They talked briefly about the project.
The professor arrived and started the lecture. After that class ended, they moved to the next one, attending lectures back-to-back.
By afternoon, Raj and Karan headed to the canteen for lunch.
Karan smirked.
"So, Raj… how's your love life with Pooja?"
"Anything happening behind my back? Don't tell me you proposed."
Raj sighed.
"Karan, stop it," he said quietly.
"I don't like her that way. We're from different worlds. Let's forget it."
That wasn't completely true—but Raj knew reality.
Pooja had many male friends.
And he had already heard her say she liked fashionable, sporty guys—not someone like him.
After lunch, they went to the library.
That's when Raj overheard someone nearby.
"Hey, did you hear? A terrorist attack happened at a Delhi bank."
Raj felt a sudden jolt—but forced himself to stay calm.
The police will handle it, he thought.
What can a normal college student do?
After finishing their work, Raj and Karan walked toward the exit. Groups of students were discussing the attack, fear visible on their faces.
Karan's car arrived
.
"I'm heading to Dad's company," Karan said.
"He keeps giving me work even during free time. So boring."
Raj smiled.
"Uncle's doing it for your future."
"Yeah, yeah," Karan laughed.
"You go home safely."
They waved goodbye.
Just then, Raj's phone rang.
Alia.
"Hello?" Raj answered.
"Raj…" Alia's voice trembled.
Raj's smile vanished.
"What happened, Alia?"
"Raj, Dad went to the bank today," she said fearfully.
"The same bank that was attacked. I don't feel good after watching the news."
Raj felt the ground shift beneath him.
"What?" he whispered.
"How is that possible?"
His mind raced
.
He said he was going to another bank…
Karan noticed Raj's face and stepped closer.
"Raj, calm down," Karan said firmly.
"Let's go there. Right now."
Raj nodded.
"Okay."
He spoke into the phone again.
"Alia, I'm going to the bank with Karan. I'll call you as soon as I reach."
"Okay, bhai," she said.
"I'm coming there too."
The call ended
.
Raj and Karan rushed toward the Delhi private bank.
As the car sped through traffic, Raj stared out the window—his heart pounding.
Why didn't I go with him today?
Why did I ignore the news?
For the first time since gaining his power, Raj felt truly helpless.
Delhi Private Bank
Raj and Karan reached the bank area and stopped outside. The place was surrounded by police vehicles, ambulances, and reporters. The operation was already over, but chaos still lingered in the air.
Some hostages were being helped out by medical teams. A few people lay on stretchers—injured by bullet wounds from the terrorist attack.
Raj felt his chest tighten.
Fear surged inside him.
For a brief moment, the objects around him trembled—dust, loose stones, shattered glass—but Raj forced his mind to calm down. He clenched his fists, controlling his power before anyone noticed.
A police officer stepped forward.
"Stop," the officer said firmly.
"Students are not allowed beyond this point. If you have relatives here, tell me their names."
Karan stepped ahead and showed his identity.
"Sir," he said politely, "I'm Karan Malhotra. We're looking for my friend's father—Aditya Verma."
The officer nodded.
"Give me a moment."
He walked away to check the list.
Raj's heart pounded.
"Raj!"
He turned sharply.
"Alia!"
His sister rushed toward him, fear written all over her face.
"Don't worry," Raj said quickly, holding her shoulders.
"The officer is checking. No one said anything serious yet."
Alia hugged Raj tightly, her hands shaking. For a moment, Raj felt how close he had come to losing his father.
The officer returned.
"Mr. Malhotra," he said,
"Aditya Verma is currently with the medical team. No major injuries—only minor ones."
Karan exhaled in relief.
"Thank you, sir."
Raj and Alia felt the tension leave their bodies all at once
.
They rushed toward the medical area.
Aditya was sitting on a chair, a small bandage on his arm, speaking to a police officer about the incident. When he saw Raj and Alia, he smiled calmly.
"Raj… Alia," he said.
"I'm fine. Don't worry so much."
Alia broke down and hugged her father tightly.
"I was so scared," she whispered.
Raj stepped forward and hugged him too—silent, grateful.
After completing the formalities, they returned home together. Arti was waiting anxiously. The moment she saw Aditya, tears filled her eyes.
"I'm fine," Aditya said gently.
"Nothing happened. Please don't cry."
The Verma family sat together for dinner later that night. The TV was on.
"Breaking News," the anchor said.
"Three people were killed and ten seriously injured in today's Delhi private bank terrorist attack."
The room fell silent
.
Aditya looked at the screen for a long moment, then spoke in a deep, steady voice.
"Enough," he said.
"Let's eat. Nothing more can be done now."
Everyone ate quietly.
Later that night, Raj stood near the window of his room, staring into the darkness. The lights of Delhi shone below—tall buildings, moving traffic, people living their normal lives.
But the faces of the injured.
The dead.
They wouldn't leave his mind.
His fists tightened.
I could have done something, he thought.
Then he shook his head.
"No," he whispered.
"My family comes first. My career comes first."
Still, as Raj looked out at the sleeping city, a question refused to leave him:
If I have this power… how long can I keep pretending I don't?