📅 Mid-December — Nandanpur
The morning air was cold, sharper than winter usually was.
Fog hung low over the village. Smoke from incense mingled with the mist, curling into the sky like unanswered questions.
Today was the funeral day.
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Silent Streets, Heavy Hearts
The siblings walked behind the small procession, steps slow, heavy.
Vaidehi's lips trembled as she clutched her notebook to her chest.
Aariv's small hands were hidden in Raghav's jacket sleeves.
Vivaan and Vrinda walked side by side, trying to be strong for each other, but neither could hide the tears.
Meera lagged behind. Eyes red, nose running, chest tight. She couldn't process it.
Where are my parents? she thought. How can they just… be gone?
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The Moment of Questioning
As the priest chanted, Meera turned to Raghav.
"Raghav bhai… where are Maa and Papa really?"
Raghav stiffened. His hands clenched. The guilt he carried from that morning — the argument, the apology he never gave — pressed harder on his chest.
He looked at her, eyes burning with frustration and grief.
"I… I don't know, Meera! Stop asking!"
The words came sharper than he intended. Too sharp.
Meera's face crumpled.
"But… I just—"
Raghav turned away.
"I can't… I can't explain!"
Before anyone could react, he stormed out, leaving Meera staring after him, broken, unable to process the flood of emotions crashing over her.
---
A Family Shattered
The siblings walked on in silence.
Vaidehi glanced at Meera, who clutched her own hands to stop them from shaking.
Aariv whimpered quietly.
Vrinda's lips pressed together, fighting back tears.
Vivaan's small shoulders shook with quiet sobs.
The funeral rites continued, but the warmth, the laughter, the comfort — everything was gone.
The Sudarshini flowed quietly, almost mocking in its stillness.
And above them, the sky wept with a pale drizzle, as if the heavens themselves understood the weight of what had been lost.