(Eight Years Earlier – Village Shambhala, India)
(YEAR 32004)
Night covered the small village of Shambhala. Only a few lamps were burning. Inside a small hut, pain and cries filled the air.
"Push, Divya… just a little more," the old female doctor said.
Outside, Vishambar was walking back and forth. His hands were shaking. Sweat covered his forehead. He stopped every few seconds and looked at the door.
Then a cry was heard.
A baby's cry.
The old doctor came out slowly and said,
"Vishambar… it's a girl."
For a moment, happiness touched his face. He rushed inside.
But what he saw broke his heart.
Divya was lying still. Her eyes were closed. Her body was cold.
"What… what happened?" he whispered.
The doctor looked down.
"I am sorry. She lost too much blood. I tried my best."
Vishambar's knees felt weak. His world collapsed in a second.
The doctor gently carried the newborn.
"She is alive. Your daughter…"
Vishambar turned his face away.
"No," he said in anger and pain. "Take her away."
Outside, his mother Mahalakshmi was sitting. She saw the doctor holding the baby and understood everything.
She walked forward with trembling hands and took the child in her arms.
"She is innocent," Mahalakshmi said. "Give her to me."
She paid the doctor and took the baby inside her shawl.
The child was named Divyanshi.
That night, Vishambar drank heavily. Pain turned into anger.
While walking on the road, a truck came fast.
He never saw it coming.
By morning, Divyanshi had lost both her parents.
Months passed.
Then came the drought.
For two years, no rain fell. Crops died. Animals died. Hunger spread. Fear spread.
People started whispering.
"Since that child was born, nothing is right."
"She is cursed."
"She brought disaster."
Mahalakshmi begged them.
"She is just a child. Please…"
But fear makes humans cruel.
One morning, the villagers gathered.
"You must leave," they said.
"Take the child and go."
With tears in her eyes, Mahalakshmi held Divyanshi's small hand and left the village.
They lived alone.
Eight years later, Mahalakshmi became weak. Age and pain took her life quietly.
Divyanshi sat beside her body, not fully understanding what death meant.
She was alone.
A child in a broken world.
With no parents.
No village.
No protection.
Only silence.
And from that silence,
a strong girl was born.