Apoorva's phone rang in the middle of her office work. She glanced at the screen — Anitha. A small smile touched her lips before she picked up, but the voice on the other side froze her blood.
"Appu… Nithya...," Anitha's words cracked with fear. "She fell… badly from the steps. The doctor says it's serious. Please come fast, we've admitted her in City Hospital."
The pen slipped from Apoorva's hand. She didn't even wait to shut her laptop. Within seconds, she was out the door, her heart pounding against her chest, her mind only chanting one thing: "Oh, God nothing should happen to Nithya."
"Driver!" she called, her voice breaking yet commanding at once, "Bring the car out, quick! We have to go to City Hospital. Hurry!"
When she reached the hospital, she rushed straight into the emergency ward. The sight almost shattered her — nineteen-year-old Nithya, frail and innocent, was lying unconscious on the bed. Her head was bandaged, a drip in her arm, and machines beeped steadily by her side. Apoorva's knees almost gave way, but she steadied herself and hurried to Nithya's side. She gently held her cold hand, tears blurring her eyes.
"Nithya... wake up dear, it's me, Appu," she whispered, her voice trembling yet filled with fierce love. The doctors explained, their faces heavy with the kind of silence that always precedes bad news. One of them finally spoke, his tone measured but unshakably grim.
"It's not just the head injury," he said softly, looking at Apoorva with a deep sigh. "Because of her fragile mental condition, her body isn't responding the way it should. The fall has left a severe impact, and with her state of mind already so vulnerable… it will be very difficult for her to continue living. We're afraid her chances of survival are very, very slim." Anitha stood nearby, clutching her dupatta, eyes red from crying.
Apoorva didn't care that Nithya's eyes had never recognized her, didn't care that the girl's world was locked away in silence. She bent close, her tears dripping onto Nithya's hand. "You don't have to know me, Nithya. Just breathe… just hold on. If you live, that's enough for me. I'll be your memory, your recognition, your everything."
Anitha couldn't hold back anymore; she turned away to wipe her tears. She had seen Apoorva's love countless times, but today, in this moment, it was clearer than ever — Apoorva wasn't just a caretaker, she was the reason for survival of Nithya.
Apoorva's mind froze for a moment, unable to process the weight of the doctor's words. "The chance of living is hard…" — those very words kept echoing in her head like a haunting bell. Her breathing grew uneven, trembling as though each breath fought against the heaviness pressing down on her chest.
On the outside, she stood still, trying not to collapse, but inside, her soul was breaking apart. Thoughts scattered wildly — the image of Nithya's innocent smile, her helpless laughter, the way she always reached out for love though her mind couldn't fully grasp the world. Her inner voice, softer yet desperate, began to plead. "Please God… don't take her away like this. She is just a young girl… she has not even tasted life yet. She deserves more… she deserves the sunshine, the laughter, the love she never asked for but always needed. Don't let this be the end for her…"
Apoorva clasped her trembling hands together, her eyes filling with tears that refused to fall. For the first time in years, she felt utterly powerless — the pain of watching a fragile soul slipping away while all she could do was beg the heavens for mercy.
Apoorva's thoughts drifted back, unwillingly, to the very first day she had met Nithya in this same hospital, seven years ago. Back then, Nithya was just a fragile twelve-year-old, clinging to life with no one to hold her hand. She had neither Apoorva, nor the shelter of the orphanage, nor even a soul to whisper hope into her ears. And yet, against all odds, she fought like a warrior. That raw willpower to live — that stubborn fire — had saved her.
But now… the irony of life unfolded before Apoorva's eyes. The same hospital walls, the same scent of antiseptic, the same beeping of machines — but with different factors. Now, Nithya was not alone. She had Apoorva, she had the orphanage family, she had love, warmth, and people who prayed for her. She had everything a heart longed for.
And still… she had lost the one thing she needed most — the courage to fight.
It was a cruel twist of fate: seven years ago, she had nothing but the will to live. Today, she had everything but the strength to hold on. And that, Apoorva realized with a painful ache in her chest.
Anitha, still holding back her tears, leaned closer to Apoorva and spoke gently, "Appu… did you tell Veena about this?" Her words struck Apoorva like a sudden jolt. In the chaos of rushing Nithya to the hospital, in the storm of prayers and fears clouding her mind, she had forgotten. Forgotten to call the one person who had built that orphanage not just with bricks and walls, but with her very soul. Veena, who had stood as a mother to every child under its roof, who had always been the first to share both joys and sorrows.
Apoorva's eyes widened, guilt flooding in. How could she forget? After all, Veena wasn't just the heart of the orphanage — she was its breath, its silent strength. Every child there was her child, every smile her reward, every tear her burden.
Her hands trembled as she clutched her phone, realizing how deeply Veena would ache if she learned of this too late. Anitha placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. "It's not too late, Appu. Call her. She needs to know — for Nithya, for herself, for all of us."
With trembling fingers, Apoorva finally dialed her mother's number. The moment Veena's voice answered, Apoorva's throat tightened, but she forced herself to speak, her words breaking in between.
"Mom… Nithya… she was in the hospital… the doctors say it's serious. Please, come to the hospital quickly…"
There was silence on the other side, a silence heavy with pain. Then Veena's steady voice replied, though faintly shaken, "I'll be there, Appu. Hold on… hold her hand until I come."
Apoorva pressed the phone to her chest after the call ended, her heart beating with an ache she could not soothe.
Minutes later, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the hospital corridor. Apoorva looked up — and there they were. Veena, her dupatta slipping from her head in her rush, and beside her, little Roohi, holding tightly onto her hand. Apoorva had not expected her to bring Roohi along, and for a fleeting moment, she felt torn.
The moment Apoorva's eyes met her mother's, the weight she had been carrying shattered inside her chest. Tears welled, burning her eyes, threatening to spill. Every part of her longed to fall into Veena's arms and weep like a child. But then, her gaze shifted — Roohi's innocent eyes, wide and fearful, searching for answers.
And Apoorva, despite the storm inside her, swallowed her sobs. She forced herself to be composed, to stand strong — for Roohi's sake.
Her lips quivered as she whispered, "Mom…", Veena, already sensing her daughter's hidden grief, simply embraced her with her eyes, her own tears glistening. The air between them carried everything words could not.
All of them entered the ICU slowly, the sound of the heart monitor filling the silence. Nithya lay on the bed, her fragile body struggling with every breath, machines supporting what little strength was left in her. Veena stepped forward, her eyes softening as she saw Nithya. With the gentlest touch, she took the girl's hand into her own, her fingers trembling but firm.
She bent slightly, closing her eyes, and whispered a prayer — a prayer soaked with love, surrender, and helplessness. Her lips moved, giving back Nithya to the One who gave her life, for there were things beyond human hands.
Roohi, too young to grasp the gravity of suffering, clung tightly to her mother's saree, her small fingers digging in. She looked up at Apoorva, her innocent eyes full of questions. "Mama..." she whispered softly, tugging at her. "What is happening to that sister?"
Apoorva froze, her throat tightening. Words refused to come out, but she knew she couldn't leave the child without an answer. She knelt down, brushing Roohi's hair back gently, and in a voice low and tender, said, "She is fighting, dear… fighting whether to stay with us or… not."
Roohi frowned, her little mind searching for sense in the situation. After a pause, she asked in a voice that pierced everyone's heart, "Why? Didn't we take care her properly in that home… the one we visits on my birthday and I have even gave that beautiful bracelet to her?", The question was so pure, so painfully kind, that Apoorva's tears finally brimmed. She couldn't form any reply, her lips trembling between sorrow and a smile. All she could do was nod, forcing a quiet smile that hid her breaking heart.
And then… the beeping that filled the ICU suddenly stretched into one long, piercing sound. The steady rhythm of hope turned into a flat, merciless line. The doctors rushed forward, checking, trying, calling out commands — but their faces already carried the truth. The sound echoed in Apoorva's ears like a cruel reminder. Her heart clenched. The fight was over.
Nithya, who had once clung to life so fiercely in this very hospital years ago, had now surrendered. She had fought enough — fought against pain, against loneliness, against all that life threw at her — and now, she chose peace. A place far better than their orphanage, better than any earthly home: heaven. Veena's hand, still holding Nithya's, grew cold. Her lips quivered as she bent lower, pressing her forehead against the lifeless hand, whispering her final prayer, her voice breaking yet surrendering — "Go in peace, child… you are always loved."
Apoorva stood frozen, her tears falling silently, her mind screaming but her lips sealed. She wanted to shout, to beg, to stop time itself, but the harsh sound of the monitor told her there was no more time left. Little Roohi, confused at the sudden stillness and the sound, tugged at her mother's hand again, whispering innocently, "Mama… did she stop fighting?"
Apoorva looked down at her, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces. She forced a trembling smile through her tears and nodded, "Yes dear… she stopped fighting… because she found a home where she never has to fight again. Now she has been going to a better place, Roohi… a place far better than the orphanage, better even than our home. There, she will always be happy — no more sorrow, no more pain, no more loneliness like she had here. In that place, she will smile every day… and be free." The room fell silent. The machines turned off one by one, but the love in that room — the bond they all shared with Nithya — would never be switched off.
"I will never understand this world… the same man who worships a woman as a goddess, cherishes his mother, protects his sister, treasures his wife, nurtures his daughter, and cares for his grandmother — why does he show such different emotions when it comes to another woman?
Why does he see her as trash instead of divine, a prostitute instead of a mother, a body to strip rather than a sister to respect? Why does he ignore her desperate please for mercy instead of treating her as a friend? Why does he become a brutal beast, destroying her soul for mere minutes of pleasure, leaving her with scars that silence her forever? Why does he crush her fragile life to prove his strength against someone who could barely raise her voice?
At the end of the day, every woman is a soul — a life. I will not ask the world to worship every woman as an honor, but at least treat her as a human, as an equal, as a man rather than a honor or superior. At least see her as a life. Because her life is not yours to destroy.
In forcing her, they aren't proving their manhood — but proving the ugliest beasthood of cruelty."
Apoorva thought with the emotions she couldn't name so far. This feeling is crushing her to the grounds yet she can't change the destiny, rather than watching it as an audience and believing in the one who created everything. At last, she thanked God for removing her pain, sorrow and suffering and making her reach to his holy place, with this thought she found some peace after this tragedy. But still a thing that she had promised once about Nithya is stripping her heart away!