Garud washed himself at the hand pump, cold water running down his face.
The image of the storm still lingered in his mind, but his body felt… different. Lighter. Sharper.
He picked up the Panch-Mukhi Rudraksha, wrapped it around his wrist, and walked inside.
"माँ," he said,
"मुझे भूख लगी है।"
His mother looked up from the stove and smiled.
"अच्छा, बैठ जा। अभी लाती हूँ।"
Garud sat down on the mat, his back straight, his senses strangely alert. The sounds of the house felt louder—the crackle of firewood, the clang of utensils, even his mother's footsteps.
She placed the plate in front of him.
Garud took his first bite.
And froze.
Something Was Wrong
The taste exploded across his tongue.
Salt.
Turmeric.
Cumin.
Mustard oil.
Each ingredient was clear, distinct—so sharp it felt as if the flavors were carved into his tongue.
His eyes widened.
Another bite.
Rice—soft, warm.
Vegetables—fresh, layered with flavor.
"माँ…" Garud said slowly,
"आज का खाना बहुत स्वादिष्ट है। खुशबू भी अलग है।"
His mother laughed gently.
"पागल लड़का," she said.
"यही खाना तो रोज़ बनता है। इसमें क्या अलग है?"
She smiled, amused.
"अच्छा है कि तुझे पसंद आया।"
Garud smiled back.
"हाँ… बहुत पसंद आया।"
But inside—
This isn't normal.
He had eaten this food his entire life.
It had never felt like this.
A Sudden Knowing
As he continued eating, a strange certainty settled in his chest.
Karan is coming.
The thought arrived fully formed—no reason, no sound.
Garud looked up.
"माँ," he said casually,
"करण भी आ रहा है। उसके लिए भी खाना बना देना।"
His mother paused.
"अभी?" she asked.
"हाँ," Garud replied.
She looked at him for a moment—something unreadable flickered across her face—but then she nodded.
"ठीक है।"
Two Minutes Later
Footsteps.
The door opened.
"अरे गरुड़!" Karan's voice rang out.
Garud didn't react.
His mother froze for half a second.
Then smiled.
"आ जा बेटा।"
She served Karan food.
Karan glanced at Garud, confused.
"तू जानता था मैं आ रहा हूँ?"
Garud shrugged.
"ऐसे ही लगा।"
They ate in silence for a while.
Then Garud spoke.
"कल रात तेरे पिता तुझ पर क्यों चिल्ला रहे थे?"
Karan's hand stopped mid-air.
His eyes widened.
"क्या?"
He leaned closer and whispered to himself,
इसे कैसे पता…?
Karan looked straight at Garud.
"तू वहाँ था?"
Garud shook his head.
"नहीं। मैं तो घर में लेटा था।"
Karan swallowed.
"भूकंप से पहले पिताजी ने मुझे कुछ पैसे दिए थे," he said quietly.
"मैंने खो दिए… इसी वजह से वो गुस्सा थे।"
Garud nodded.
"हूँ…"
But Karan wasn't listening anymore.
Doubt
अगर वो मेरे घर आया ही नहीं…
तो उसे कैसे पता?
Karan studied Garud carefully.
His posture.
His eyes.
His calm.
जब से ये बेहोश हुआ था…
कुछ बदल गया है।
Not dead.
But close enough.
Back to Normal
They finished eating and stood up.
"चल," Karan said, forcing a smile.
"खेत चलते हैं।"
Garud nodded.
They walked side by side toward the fields, tools in hand.
Two friends.
Same village.
Same work.
Yet—
One of them had begun to change.
And neither of them truly understood what that meant.