Padmavathi never published Ashes Remember.
She closed the file.
Renamed it: Draft_01.
And let it sleep inside her laptop.
Some stories heal. Some stories disturb.
And some stories are too honest for the world at the moment.
She chose silence.
Two weeks later, she boarded a flight from Hyderabad to London.
Seat 14A. Window.
Beside her sat a cheerful woman scrolling through dental case photos.
"Dentist?" Padmavathi asked politely.
The woman smiled. "Guilty."
Her name was Dr. Chandini.
Fate had a strange sense of humor.
Mid-flight, somewhere above the Arabian Sea, Chandini began narrating a story that had Padmavathi laughing uncontrollably.
It was about her friend Shakti during his final year at Oxford.
The "palace."
The "professionals-only entry."
The free gourmet feast.
And Shakti nearly choking on coffee at the idea of lobster and five-course meals.
Padmavathi laughed harder when Chandini described:
Shakti was in his final year at Oxford University, constantly juggling lectures, assignments, and social life. One sunny afternoon, he was lounging under the campus oak tree with his friends, sipping coffee and half-listening to their chatter.
"Did you hear about the palace?" Ramesh suddenly asked, eyes wide. "It's this place where only professionals like doctors, engineers, teachers, and police officers can enter. And the food? Completely free. You can bring a companion too!"
Shakti's ears perked up. "Wait… free food? Are we talking about sandwiches or… five-course gourmet meals?"
Ramesh smirked. "Oh no, my friend. We're talking lobster, steak, desserts you can't even pronounce."
Shakti nearly choked on his coffee. "Why didn't anyone tell me about this earlier?!"
"Because," Ramesh said, "everyone already made plans with their professional contacts. You're… on your own, buddy."
Shakti's mind raced. Who could he bring? A doctor? Engineer? Teacher? His imagination conjured a series of hilarious images: him pretending to be a doctor in a white coat, trying to give medical advice to strangers—he would probably faint before anyone listened to him!
Then, lightning struck. Chandini! His childhood friend, now a dentist, might just be the ticket.
Shakti called Chandini nervously. "Hey… remember me? Shakti, from school?"
Chandini laughed. "Wow, it's been years! What's up?"
"I… uh… need a favor," Shakti stammered. "There's this palace… free food… games… but I need someone professional to come with me. Can you… act as a doctor?"
There was a pause. Then, Chandini burst out laughing. "You want me to lie? Really?"
"Just a little! Nobody needs surgery, I promise!" Shakti said desperately. "You just act smart, say some medical stuff—people will believe you!"
Chandini shook her head, still laughing. "Fine. But remember, I'm a dentist. If anyone asks about heart surgery, don't look at me."
The palace looked straight out of a fairytale. Golden gates gleamed under the sun. Fountains sprayed sparkling water. Staff in crisp uniforms guided guests gracefully. Shakti's palms were sweaty, and he was jittery, while Chandini walked beside him like she owned the place.
"Just introduce yourself as Dr. Chandini Chaudhary," Shakti whispered. "Smile… nod… people will think you're a genius."
Chandini smirked. "Got it."
Inside, guests bowed slightly, whispering to each other about the impressive doctor. Chandini noticed two kids sneaking ice cream from the dessert table.
"Hey, don't eat too much sugar," she said gently. "Teeth can't handle it."
The children froze. Their parents stared in awe. "Wow… she really cares about their health!" someone whispered.
Shakti whispered back, horrified and amused: "She's a dentist, not a heart surgeon! And they think she's a miracle worker!"
The palace offered everything: lavish buffets, interactive games, and a dance floor with a live band. Chandini tried to enjoy herself, but her doctor persona made even eating feel like work.
She gave humorous advice to guests: "That cake looks delicious… but moderation is key for teeth."
Shakti tried to help by exaggerating her credentials: "Yes, Dr. Chaudhary is internationally renowned… for teeth!"
Guests whispered to each other, taking everything she said seriously.
One guest asked if she could cure a headache. Chandini paused, then said: "Hmm… maybe brush your teeth more? Sometimes teeth cause headaches."
The guest nodded seriously. Shakti almost collapsed laughing.
As the evening approached, a palace staff member announced: "No one may leave until the grand game begins. Win, and you will receive a mysterious reward. The only hint: Find the person with an emergency."
Guests panicked. Some started fake crying. Some staged injuries. Shakti whispered, "What kind of emergency?"
"I have no clue," Chandini replied, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe someone spilled soup?"
Shakti groaned. "We're doomed."
The game began, chaos erupted. Guests tripped over each other, shouted medical advice, and even pretended to faint. Chandini and Shakti tried different tactics:
Shakti waved his hands dramatically: "Over here! Emergency!"
Chandini whispered: "Shhh… stop screaming. People are panicking unnecessarily."
Finally, Chandini noticed the queen sitting quietly in the corner, trying to speak but wincing. Chandini realized the emergency was the queen herself—her teeth were causing a problem.
She leaned over, carefully treated the queen, and the queen could finally speak. Everyone cheered.
Shakti couldn't help but whisper: "We actually did it… without anyone dying from panic!"
After the excitement, the prince and queen invited Shakti and Chandini to the royal chamber. They confessed:
"Your Highnesses… Chandini isn't a full doctor, just a dentist. And… well, we weren't exactly who everyone thought we were."
The royal family laughed heartily.
"You solved a problem no one else could," the queen said, smiling. "It wasn't about titles. It was about cleverness and honesty. You have our admiration."
Shakti and Chandini were rewarded with gold, jewels, and lifetime invitations to the palace. But more importantly, they left with laughter, memories, and a story to tell forever.
Padmavathi shook her head.
"The world panics loudly," she said softly.
"But the real problem sits quietly in the corner."
Chandini paused.
"That's… actually deep for a comedy story."
For months, Padmavathi had been surrounded by controversy, guilt, redemption arcs, and emotional weight.
Now, in 30,000 feet of air, she found something refreshing.
Lightness.
Not stupidity.
Not mockery.
But situational comedy rooted in truth.
• Shakti exaggerating.
• Guests overreacting.
• A dentist mistaken for a miracle surgeon.
• Chaos caused by ego.
• Resolution through calm intelligence.
It was brilliant and cinematic.
Padmavathi hesitated for a second.
Then she asked: "Can I use this for a movie?"
Chandini blinked. "Seriously?"
"I think it's beautiful," Padmavathi said. "It's funny, but it says something about society."
Chandini laughed.
"Of course! Just don't make me perform heart surgery in the climax."
They both burst out laughing again.
That night in her London apartment, Padmavathi opened two drafts:
• Ashes Remember — heavy, reflective, painful truth.
• The Palace Protocol — light, chaotic, human comedy.
For the first time, she understood something clearly:
"Not every story must carry tragedy.
Some stories must carry joy."
It would be about:
"It wasn't about titles. It was about cleverness."
Padmavathi closed her laptop around midnight.
She looked at the city lights.
Months ago, she wrote about fire and guilt.
Now, she was writing about laughter and misunderstandings.
Maybe growth wasn't about choosing heavy or light stories.
Maybe it was about knowing when to tell each one.
And somewhere above the clouds, a random seat on a flight had given her something priceless:
Not controversy. Not redemption. But joy.
And for the first time in months, she slept without drafts haunting her.