RADHE RADHE READER'S.ย
ENJOY THE CHAPTER.
DID YOU FEEL SOMETIMESย THAT NO BODY IN THE WORLD CAN UNDERSTAND YOU .TUM KITNI BHI KOSISH KARLO TUM HUMESA THIRD PERSON BAN JATE HO DUSRE KI LIFE.
WHEN YOU GIVEย PRIORITY TO EVERYONE BUT WHEN YOU NEED THEM JUST TO SHARE YOUR THOUGHT JUST TO TALK NO ONE WAS THERE.
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Nearly two hours later...
The black SUV rolled through the grand gates of the Oberoi Mansion.
The birthday decorations were still glowing under the warm garden lights. Balloons swayed gently in the evening breeze, but the cheerful atmosphere that had filled the house earlier had completely evaporated.
Inside, the silence was suffocating.
The half-cut cake still rested on the table, its frosting drying up. The music had long been switched off. Even the guests had quietly slipped away one by one, sensing the heavy, dark cloud that had settled over the family. Every member of the Oberoi family sat frozen in the living room, weighed down by a guilt no one knew how to voice.
The low rumble of a car stopping outside shattered the silence.
"Dadu BaaSa aa gaye..." Vivaan whispered, his voice trembling.
Everyone instinctively stood up, their hearts hammering against their ribs.
The heavy main doors swung open. Pratap Singh Oberoi entered first, his face an unreadable mask of cold granite. Behind him walked Anu, holding Abhimanyu's hand so tightly as if she was afraid that the moment she let go, he would vanish into thin air.
Abhimanyu's face carried a small smile. A smile that looked devastatingly peaceful.
But his eyes... his eyes had changed. The bright, hopeful sparkle they usually held was entirely gone, replaced by a hollow blankness. He walked inside without looking around the grand hall, without searching for anyone's validation.
Jaise ab use kisi se koi umeed hi nahi thi.
Meera couldn't bear it anymore. The sight of her blood-born son's vacant eyes broke something inside her. She rushed forward, tears streaming down her face, and stretched out her arms.
"Abhi... Mera bachcha... Happy Birthโ"
"Bas."
Pratap's deep, booming voice echoed across the high ceilings. The entire family froze in their tracks. His sharp gaze swept across the room before resting heavily on Meera.
"Ab ek shabd bhi nahi."
The silence that followed was deafening. Pratap turned toward Abhimanyu, his rigid expression instantly softening into pure tenderness.ย
"Beta Abhi..." he murmured, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Apne room mein jao."
Abhimanyu nodded obediently. "Ji, Dadu BaaSa."
He didn't ask why. He didn't question the ruined party or the tense faces. He simply adjusted the small, crumpled paper bag from the roadside restaurant in his hand and started walking toward the grand staircase.
Anu immediately slipped her hand back into his. "Main bhi chalungi, Abhi."
Abhimanyu smiled faintly, a shadow of his usual self. "Chalo."
Neither of them looked back. Not once. The rhythmic sound of their small footsteps echoed through the silent mansion until the bedroom door upstairs closed with a soft click.
That tiny sound felt louder than any scream.
Pratap slowly turned around to face his family. His eyes moved from one face to another, cutting like glass. No one could meet his gaze.
Finally, he spoke. "Congratulations." His voice was calm. Painfully, terrifyingly calm. "Aap sab kaamyab ho gaye."
Vikram lowered his head, his chest heaving. "Dadu BaaSa... please..."
Pratap raised a single hand, cutting him off instantly. "Ek shabd bhi mat kehna, Vikram. Aaj bolne ka haq tum sab kho chuke ho."
Rajendra took a heavy breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Bauji... jo hua galat hua. Lekin kisi ne jaan-bujhkar nahi kiya. Sab Rahul ke aane ki khushi mein..."
Pratap let out a bitter, hollow laugh. "Wahi toh sabse badi baat hai, Rajendra! Agar tum sabne yeh jaan-bujhkar kiya hota... toh shayad mujhe itna dard nahi hota."
He looked around the beautifully decorated, empty hall.
"Us bachche ko nafrat se chot nahi pahunchi hai... use tum sabki laaparwahi ne mara hai. Nafrat insaan ko baaghi banati hai, Rajendra... par laaparwahi insaan ko andar se khatam kar deti hai."
His words struck every heart like a physical blow. Meera completely broke down, covering her face as she sobbed.
"I was waiting for him, Dadu BaaSa!" she cried out, turning to the family patriarch. "Guests aa gaye the... sab log keh rahe the cake cut kar do... Rahul ne itni zidd ki ki aaj hi use bhi apna birthday celebrate karna hai... Maine socha tha Abhi ke aate hi dono ka dobara celebrate karenge..."
Pratap walked up to her, his eyes piercing through her tears. "Sach batao, Meera. Apne dil par haath rakh kar kaho... Jab yahan cake cut ho raha tha, jab sab gaana gaa rahe the... kya ek baar bhi tumhari nazar us darwaze ki taraf gayi thi?"
Meera's lips trembled. She tried to formulate a lie, a defense, anything. But no words came out. Because the devastating truth was... she hadn't looked.
Pratap turned his cold gaze toward the older siblings, Aarav and Vivaan. "Aur tum dono? Tum dono toh uske bade bhai ho na?"
Aarav clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. "Nahi..." his voice cracked completely. "Maine bhi nahi dekha, Dadu BaaSa."
"Aanya?" Pratap asked softly.
The older sister burst into loud, hiccuping tears. "Mujhe laga Abhi aa jayega... aur hum phir se cake kaat lenge."
Pratap nodded slowly, his expression full of profound sorrow. "'Phir se cake kaat lete'..." He repeated her words, looking at Vikram and Meera. "Lekin mujhe yeh batao... kya woh pal bhi wapas laa sakte ho, jab ek 9 saal ka bachcha apne hi ghar ke darwaze par akela khada tha? Jab woh bahar se tum sabko haste hue dekh raha tha, aur apni hi family ke bulane ka intezaar kar raha tha?"
No one answered. The heavy silence was the damning truth.
Abhimanyu's (chachu), Raghav, stepped forward, his face etched with guilt. "Dadu sa, humse bohot badi bhool ho gayi. Humne toh bas wahi dekha jo samne tha..."
His wife, Naina (Chachi), wiped her tears and added softly, "Haan Dadusa.. Rahul ki zidd ke aage hum sab samajh hi nahi paaye ki humare apne Abhi par kya beet rahi hogi. Hum sab toh bas Rahul ko khush karne mein lag gaye."
Pratap looked at Raghav and Naina, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I know. Aur yahi baat mujhe sabse zyada darati hai. Ki tum sabne bina kisi buri neeyat ke... us bachche ka dil tod diya."
He slowly walked toward the dining table, his fingertips resting on the dried edge of the half-cut birthday cake.
"Cake dobara ban sakta hai. Decorations dobara ho sakti hain. Parties dobara rakhli jayengi... Lekin ek bachche ka jo vishwas toota hai na, use dobara jodna itna aasaan nahi hota."
Every eye in the room filled with fresh tears of shame. Pratap's voice grew thick with unshed emotions. "Jaante ho... mujhe sabse zyada kis baat ne toda?"
Everyone remained frozen, dreading the answer.
"He didn't complain. Usne mujhse ek baar bhi nahi pucha ki 'Dadu BaaSa, sab mera birthday kyun bhool gaye?' Woh roya nahi, usne koi zidd nahi ki. Pata hai usne kya kiya? Woh muskuraya."
Pratap closed his eyes, a single tear escaping and rolling down his weathered cheek.
"Aur usne mujhse kaha... 'Sab Rahul ke saath busy the, Dadu BaaSa... agar unhone mujhe dekh liya hota... toh zaroor bulate.'"
The sentence echoed through the hollow mansion like a death knell. Meera covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking violently as she collapsed onto the sofa. Vikram's shoulders slumped in utter defeat and shame. Rajendra removed his glasses, his hands shaking as he wiped his eyes, while Savitri silently folded her hands in front of the family temple, unable to stop crying.
Behind the pillar, Rahul stood completely still. On the outside, he tried to force a look of innocent regret, but inside, a dark, venomous satisfaction was brewing.
(Tumhe toh rona hi padega, Abhimanyu...) Rahul thought maliciously, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the empty staircase. (Bhale hi tum is ghar ke asli khoon ho, par aaj tumhari family ne tumhe mere liye chhod diya. Main toh sirf ek adopted bachche hoon, par tumse tumhara sab kuch cheen kar dikhaunga. Aaj toh sirf tumhara birthday cheena hai... dheere dheere is ghar se tumhara wajood hi mita dunga. Yeh log sirf mujhse pyaar karenge.)
Pratap looked up at the staircase, his voice barely audible yet carrying the weight of a lifelong truth.
"Aaj... mere us 9 saal ke pote ne mujhe ek bohot badi baat sikha di. Bachche hamesha rokar apni takleef nahi batate... Kabhi-kabhi woh muskurana seekh jaate hain. Aur jis din ek bachcha apni takleef ko muskurahat ke peeche chupana seekh jaye na... samajh lena ki usne tum sab se umeed karna chhod diya hai."
His voice finally broke on the last word. "Main bas bhagwan se yahi dua kar raha hoon... ki mera Abhimanyu us mod tak na pahuncha ho."
No one dared speak. The grand decorations that had looked so festive hours ago now felt like a mockery, a loud reminder of their collective failure. The half-eaten cake, the scattered balloons, the birthday bannersโeverything stood as silent witnesses to the moment they had unknowingly shattered a child's soul.
And upstairs...
For the first time since returning home, Abhimanyu sat on the edge of his bed in the dark room. With gentle, trembling fingers, he pulled out a small, half-burnt wax candle from the roadside restaurant bag and carefully placed it inside his boarding school diary.
It wasn't the grand celebration he had spent weeks dreaming about. But as he closed the diary and hugged it to his chest, he knew it was the only birthday memory he ever wanted to keep.
ย ย
TO BE CONTINUED...................
RADHE RADHE READER'S
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