The courtyard of the Junagarh palace was shimmering with morning sunlight today. Arohi sat in a corner of the garden, picking Tulsi leaves and jasmine flowers for the morning prayer. Nearby, little Prabhasha was chasing a butterfly with a mind of her own. The four-year-old child seemed like a flood of happiness, wandering all over the garden. She had no idea what massive storms had passed around her; she only knew this new 'Mother,' whose saree-end she held to find the safest shelter in the world.
Suddenly, an accident occurred. While trying to catch the butterfly, Prabhasha tripped and fell on the white marble steps of the garden. Her tender knee struck the corner of the stone, getting scraped, and blood began to flow out. The entire garden seemed to freeze at Prabhasha's cry of distress. Arohi dropped her flower basket and ran like a madwoman. She picked Prabhasha up and pulled her close to her chest.
Tears streamed from Prabhasha's eyes as she curled up in pain, clutching Arohi's neck and crying, "Mother! It hurts so much, Mother! Look how much blood is coming out!" Arohi's own heart felt as if it were breaking. She gently stroked Prabhasha's bloody knee and wiped away her tears with the end of her saree. With supreme affection, Arohi began to say, "Don't cry, my child, I am right here! See, your mother is applying medicine right now, and everything will be fine in an instant."
Arohi carried Prabhasha inside the palace. Hearing the news, Aditya came rushing in agitation. He grew restless seeing his daughter's condition, "What happened, Arohi? Should I call the doctor? Look how much blood is coming out!" Arohi calmly reassured Aditya, saying, "Don't be afraid at all, Aditya. I am applying a paste of sandalwood and turmeric; that will do the trick. Children are bound to get a few bumps and bruises."
Arohi carefully washed Prabhasha's leg and applied the cool sandalwood paste. Prabhasha winced and groaned in pain, but when Arohi stroked her head and kissed her forehead, the girl seemed to forget all the pain. Sitting her on her lap, Arohi began telling her one fairy tale after another. She told the story of how a little princess became friends with all the animals in the forest. Enchanted by the story, Prabhasha rested her head on Arohi's lap and grew quiet.
In the afternoon, Aditya came and saw that Prabhasha had fallen asleep in Arohi's lap. Arohi was stroking her hair with profound peace. Aditya watched in amazement—when Sushila was in the palace, she had never pulled Prabhasha to her chest like this. To Sushila, Prabhasha was merely a royal ornament, but to Arohi, she was a piece of her own soul. Aditya sat quietly beside Arohi. He whispered, "Arohi, if you weren't here, this girl might never have known the warmth of a mother's lap. Even knowing you aren't her biological mother, the way you protected her makes my head bow in respect."
Arohi looked at Aditya with a faint smile. She said, "Aditya, being a mother doesn't just depend on giving birth. Being a mother means protecting. The trust I've seen in Prabhasha's eyes is the greatest reward I could ever receive." Aditya gently pressed Arohi's hand. The twilight light had fallen across the palace corridors.
Meanwhile, sitting in the prison, Sushila was still banging her head against the bars and quarreling with Shilajit. She had no idea that her own daughter was sleeping in utter bliss under another mother's care today. Arohi thought to herself, only a few more days, and then when her twin children return, this royal palace will be filled with the sound of children's laughter once again. Dreaming of how happy Prabhasha would be to get her new brother and sister, Arohi planted another affectionate kiss on Prabhasha's forehead.