The sterile scent of disinfectant filled the hospital room. Machines beeped softly in the background, breaking the silence with their rhythmic monotony. Sushmita sat beside her son's bed, her eyes red from hours of crying. The world outside seemed to have stopped, but her heart was still racing with fear. The doctor entered, carrying a folder and wearing an expression that mixed science with something far older, faith.
"Madam," he began gently, "your son will be fine, but only if he can control the fighting power within him." Sushmita frowned. "Fighting power? Doctor, you've studied medicine, not mythology. How can you say something like that in the twenty-first century?"
The doctor smiled faintly, as if he'd heard this disbelief a thousand times before. "Science can explain only what it understands, Madam. But there are some powers that exist beyond it. We doctors see things every day that science alone cannot justify."
He sat down, his voice calm but filled with conviction. "Thousands of surgeries succeed not only because of our skill but because of something higher, something divine. Patients put their faith in us, but we, in turn, must believe in the Almighty. A human being is not just flesh and bone; he is mind, spirit, and emotion. When one part suffers, all others follow. Not every operation succeeds, because the will to live and unseen forces play their roles."
He paused, then added gravely, "Some cases, just like your son's, defy every medical law. When that happens, Madam, we realize there is something beyond us. We call it God." Sushmita stared at him in disbelief. Her lips parted, but no words came. Her thoughts went racing back to the dream she had seen last night, her late husband's voice echoing in her mind: "You can only save our son with the help of a man from the future."
Her heart skipped a beat. Just then, a soft knock broke her trance. "Come in," said the doctor. A nurse entered, holding a large envelope. "Sir, the scanning report of patient Shashank," she said respectfully, handing it over. The doctor took the report and placed it on the light screen. The room glowed with the cold, bluish hue of the X-ray image. "Please look here, Madam," he said.
Sushmita stood slowly, clutching her saree pallu in nervous hands. Her eyes fixed on the image, a maze of lines and shadows that meant nothing to her, but everything to him. "As I suspected," said the doctor grimly. "Your son's brain shows signs of external control, an outer force, if you will. His mind is fighting against something it cannot comprehend. That's the reason for his severe headaches."
Sushmita's breath caught. "External control? You mean… something is inside his mind?" "Yes," the doctor replied softly. "And if he cannot control it, the conflict may lead to Multiple Personality Disorder." He scribbled something on his pad and looked at her. "I'm referring you to my friend, Dr. Rishikesh. He specializes in rare neurological and psychological disorders. He can explain better." Sushmita nodded, her mind whirling.
A few moments later, Rohan, Shashank's brother, entered the ward. "Mom, how's he now?" he asked, out of breath. Sushmita turned toward him, tears pooling in her eyes. "The doctor says… Shashank's condition isn't normal. He has, something beyond science inside him." Rohan frowned, confused and terrified at once. "What are you saying, Mom?"
She explained everything, the dream, the doctor's strange words, and the report. Both brothers sat in silence for a long time, staring at the sleeping figure of Shashank, his face pale and peaceful, as if lost between two worlds.
The following week, they got an appointment with Dr. Rishikesh, a well-known neurologist who dealt with rare cases involving the nervous system. Neurology, as Sushmita had read, was the science of the human nervous system, a delicate network connecting the brain and spinal cord, controlling thought, motion, and every heartbeat. But Shashank's case, she soon learned, was different.
Dr. Rishikesh reviewed the scans with a deep frown. "This is rare," he murmured. "Your son has… an extra nerve in his head." "Extra nerve?" Sushmita repeated. "What does that mean?" The doctor leaned back, his tone grave. "A human being's nervous system has two primary pathways, one leading to the brain, the other to the spinal cord. Your son has a third, an abnormal we've never documented before. What's even more strange, it's emitting signals that our instruments can't interpret. Almost as if…" he hesitated, "…it carries energy."
Sushmita felt cold sweat run down her neck. "Is it dangerous?" "Yes," said the doctor. "If that nerve isn't stabilized, his body won't be able to handle the energy it carries. The result could be catastrophic, multiple personality disorder, seizures, or even death." Her phone slipped slightly from her trembling hand. "What can we do, Doctor?" "We can attempt a corrective neurosurgery, but…" He looked away. "The success rate is less than ten percent." The words fell like a hammer in the room. Ten percent only success. The rest ninety percent will be, dark, unknown, and merciless. When she left the hospital, her mind was a battlefield. Every step she took echoed with one thought: What if I lose him too?
She had already lost her husband during the pandemic. Shashank had been with him, helping the sick, distributing food, believing they were saving lives. But then the virus had taken his father away. The shock had shattered him. He stopped talking, stopped smiling. Something within him had broken that day. And now this. That night, as the city sank into silence, Sushmita sat by the window. The moon hung low, veiled by drifting clouds. The air outside smelled of rain, but inside, there was only the scent of fear.
The sky grew darker, painted blue upon blue, deepening into the endless shades of night. The shadows of clouds drifted like lost souls. The sun could not hide them, just as the moon cannot stop the tide. Somewhere, a hidden star still smiled upon the earth, whispering hope into the darkness. But Sushmita could not sleep. Her mind replayed the doctor's warning again and again. Only 10% successful. Coma. Death.
She pressed her palms together and whispered a silent prayer. "If there is a God beyond this world, please… save my son." Her eyes fell on the pile of books she had borrowed from the library weeks ago, ancient texts on energy, mind, and spirit. Books she had dismissed earlier as superstition. Now, she opened one.
The first page spoke of the balance between human energy and cosmic energy. The words were complex, abstract, she couldn't understand much. But desperation sharpened her focus. She read again, slower this time, her lips moving silently. Hours passed. The ticking clock merged with her heartbeat. And then, something changed.
A strange warmth spread through her fingertips as she turned the pages. The air around her seemed to vibrate, like the hum of an unseen current. Her heart raced. The room dimmed, yet her mind grew brighter. She could feel something stirring inside her, something ancient and boundless. She was alone, yet she wasn't. The world outside faded, the traffic, the night, the hospital smell—all dissolved into a vast stillness. Sushmita sat there, unmoving, as her consciousness expanded beyond the walls, beyond herself.
She felt connected, to the stars, to the air, to the unseen force surrounding her. The serenity within her heart mirrored the serenity of the skies. Her fears dissolved into the rhythm of the universe. She closed her eyes. The silence was not empty, it was full. Something was leaving her, and something greater was entering. In that moment, she felt as if the universe itself whispered into her soul.
A vision flashed before her eyes, an ancient city, a man with silver eyes standing under a temple dome, speaking a language she couldn't understand. She saw her son, older, wearing strange clothes, surrounded by glowing symbols. And behind him, a light so pure it hurt to see. Her lips trembled. "Who are you?" she whispered.
The voice answered in her mind, soft and distant: "You already know me, Sushmita. Time only hides what is meant to return." She gasped, opening her eyes. The vision was gone. The book lay open in her lap, its pages fluttering as though stirred by invisible wind.
She sat in silence, her hands cold and her heart racing. Had she imagined it? Or had she really touched something beyond? Her rational mind resisted the thought—but deep inside, she knew she had crossed into a realm science could not explain. As dawn crept through the window, pale gold light touched her face. Shashank stirred in his sleep. His breathing steadied, the pain lines on his forehead softening for the first time in days.
Sushmita wiped her tears and whispered, "You'll be fine, my son. I won't let the darkness take you." But in her heart, a thousand questions stirred.
Was her husband right?Who was the man from the future?And what was the true nature of this strange, mysterious disease?
The answers were still hidden, buried in time, waiting for the moment to unfold.
Will Sushmita uncover the truth about her past?Will Prabhas return to guide her through the mystery?And what secret lies behind Shashank's extraordinary nerve?
Stay tuned for the next chapter to unravel the secrets of destiny and the unseen powers that bind life and time together.