Evening had fallen, and the sky glowed with the last fire of the setting sun. Aditya’s flight touched down, and as he stepped out of the plane, the cool breeze of twilight brushed against his face. The air carried that old familiar feeling he always had whenever he returned here — a strange mix of nostalgia and heaviness, as if the land itself whispered memories back to him.

His heart raced with anticipation. Two reasons filled him with joy: his younger brother Ayaan’s engagement, and that hidden reason that made his smile brighter, his steps quicker. The golden light of the sun lingered on his features, while the chill of the evening air wrapped around him like a quiet embrace.

Aditya walked forward with a smile that seemed effortless, yet carried storms beneath it. He had already instructed the car to wait for him at Gate 7 outside the airport, but before leaving, he turned toward the terminal to finish some work. Every step echoed his eagerness — not just to reach the mansion where celebrations awaited, but to hold on to the fragile happiness that was pulling him forward.

On the other side, Ayaan was already dressed for his engagement. His sherwani shimmered under the soft lights, and his face carried the glow of anticipation. Mahira too had left her home, radiant in her lehenga, her beauty drawing every eye as she prepared to meet Ayaan. Both of them were restless with eagerness — Ayaan to see Mahira, and Mahira to see him.

Meanwhile, the Raizayada mansion stood transformed. Every corner was adorned with lights and flowers, the grandeur of the decorations making the estate look like a palace. Guests began to arrive, their voices filling the air with warmth and celebration. Vikrant, Mamta, Shivraj, Kalyani — Adi’s grandmother — along with Lakshman and Vishesh, welcomed them with grace.

The atmosphere was mesmerizing. The guests themselves seemed spellbound, unable to take their eyes away from the beauty surrounding them. The mansion glowed with festivity, every detail reflecting the importance of the night.

Beside Ayaan stood Nishant, Aarvansh, and Akshu — his closest companions, their laughter and energy adding to the glow of the evening. Ayaan himself looked striking in his sherwani, every detail enhancing his charm. Handsome and radiant, he carried the aura of a man stepping into a new chapter of life.

Mahira, meanwhile, was on her way to the Raizayada mansion with her family. Dressed in her exquisite lehenga, she looked breathtaking, her beauty magnified by the joy in her eyes. Surrounded by her friends, she too was filled with happiness, her heart racing with anticipation to meet Ayaan.

The mansion awaited them like a jewel in the night. Lights shimmered across its grand façade, flowers cascaded from balconies, and the air was alive with music and celebration. Every guest who entered was captivated by the magnificence, their eyes unable to turn away from the spectacle. The Raizayada mansion glowed not just with decoration, but with the promise of love and destiny.

More than two hours had passed at the airport, yet Aditya had not stepped out. The world outside moved on — flights landed, families reunited, voices echoed through the terminal — but inside the washroom, time stood still.

He was crumpled against the cold tiles, shattered like fragments of broken glass scattered in silence. His eyes were swollen, veins red from the endless stream of tears that refused to stop. Every sob tore through his chest, leaving him trembling, gasping for air as though the weight of despair pressed down on his lungs.

The mirror above him reflected a stranger — a hollow face streaked with water and grief, a mask that could no longer hide the storm raging within. He splashed cold water again and again, desperate to erase the evidence of his collapse, but the tears returned, relentless, unstoppable.

Alone in that confined space, Aditya drowned in isolation. The laughter of strangers outside felt cruel, mocking the emptiness inside him. His heart was breaking in silence, unseen, unheard — a boy unraveling behind locked doors while the world celebrated without him.

He was utterly alone in that shattered condition, unable to understand what had happened in those two hours that had broken him so completely. His tears would not stop, flowing endlessly as though they carried pieces of his soul away with them. His breathing grew harsh and uneven, each gasp sounding like a struggle against invisible chains.

This was not the Aditya the world knew — not the prodigy, not the heir, not the boy who conquered empires. This was a broken figure, trembling in silence, his body heavy with despair. He rose unsteadily, gripping the sink for support, and began to splash water across his face. Again and again, he let the cold drops fall, as if they could wash away the storm inside him. But no matter how much he tried, the grief clung to him, refusing to leave.

Every attempt to compose himself felt futile. The mirror reflected not strength, but a stranger — hollow eyes, streaked cheeks, and a mask that could not hide the truth. Aditya’s hands shook as he pressed them against the basin, his mind spiraling, his heart collapsing under the weight of emotions he could no longer control.

But no matter how much he tried, the tears clung to him. They no longer spilled down his cheeks, but burned in his eyes, trapped, refusing to leave. His reflection stared back at him — hollow, unfamiliar, a stranger wearing his face. He said nothing, only thought, What should I do now?

The second reason that had once filled him with joy had already ended the moment he stepped into the airport. All that remained was emptiness, and the fragile hope of his brother’s engagement — the only thread keeping him from collapsing completely.

Even though that reason had ended, there was still one left — the joy of his brother’s engagement. Aditya whispered to himself that he could not go back now, not when Ayaan’s happiness awaited him.

Standing before the mirror, he tried to summon the same false smile he had worn so many times before. A smile that hid storms, a mask that concealed the broken boy beneath. His eyes still burned, the tears no longer falling but trapped within, heavy and unspoken.

For his brother, he was truly happy. That single thread of joy was enough to keep him standing, even as the weight of his pain refused to ease. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath, steadying himself against the silence.

And then, with that fragile mask fixed upon his face, Aditya stepped out of the washroom — carrying both his brother’s happiness and his own unspoken sorrow with him.

By the time he stepped out, it was already late. Aditya slid behind the wheel and chose to drive himself. The road stretched ahead, but his vision blurred with tears that refused to stop. His hands gripped the steering wheel, yet his heart was somewhere else — drowning in memories, in pain he could not silence.

Calls kept flashing across his phone screen. Neha’s name appeared again and again, Shivansh’s too, their voices reaching out to him through the blinking light. But Aditya did not answer. He couldn’t. Each ring felt like a reminder of the world he was shutting out.

Even Shivam, his third friend who lived in Bangalore, tried calling. Aditya knew Shivam was expecting him, knew he should pick up, but he was lost in his own storm. The phone kept vibrating, the screen blinking endlessly, but he had no awareness left for it. His mind was consumed, his heart collapsing, his tears blinding him as the car sped forward into the night.

He pressed harder on the accelerator, the car surging forward with a roar. The speed climbed higher and higher, overtaking everything in its path. At that pace, if anything happened, survival was impossible — but Aditya no longer cared.

His eyes blurred with tears, his chest heavy with pain, and his mind lost in chaos. He didn’t even realize what he was doing. The car flew recklessly down the road, weaving through the night as though his life held no value anymore.

Every blink of his phone screen reminded him of the calls he ignored — Neha, Shivansh, Shivam — voices that could have pulled him back. But Aditya was too far gone, drowning in sorrow, driving as if destruction itself was the only destination left.

He pressed the accelerator harder, the car screaming as it tore through the night. The speedometer climbed mercilessly, crossing every limit, every boundary of survival. At that pace, if anything happened — a sudden turn, a stray vehicle, a single mistake — there would be no chance of living. Survival was impossible.

But Aditya no longer cared. His eyes blurred with tears, his chest heavy with pain, his mind drowning in chaos. He drove as though destruction itself was the only destination left. The headlights cut through the darkness, but inside the car, his vision was clouded with sorrow.

And in the depths of his heart, a voice echoed: Kaash aaj saare dard, saare dukh, saari takleef ek saath khatam ho jaaye… ab nahi saha jaata. It was not just a thought — it was a plea, a cry from within, the sound of a soul begging for release.

For the first time, his prayer rose to the heavens: Bhagwan, agar mujhe sukoon dena hai, toh meri zindagi yahin khatam kar do. Maut ke baad jo aaraam milega, wahi meri aakhri dua hai.

Calls kept flashing across his phone screen — Neha, Shivansh, Shivam — voices that could have saved him. Yet he ignored them all. The phone blinked again and again, but Aditya was beyond reach, beyond reason. Every second, every mile, was a gamble with death. And still, he whispered silently: ,It’s better if something happens to me tonight.

The car’s speed had soared far beyond safety, racing straight into the jaws of danger — a danger so merciless it could devour him whole. The roar of the engine echoing his inner chaos. Suddenly, his trembling hands slammed the brake. The tires screeched, the car shuddered violently, and though he pulled the handbrake, the momentum was merciless.

The vehicle swerved, teetering on the edge of disaster, narrowly escaping overturning again and again. Each second was a brush with death, yet Aditya felt nothing. The danger, the near‑misses, the possibility of destruction — none of it mattered to him anymore. His heart was too heavy, his soul too broken.

When the car finally slowed, gasping against the road, Aditya stepped out. Around him stretched a lonely wilderness, a jungle cloaked in silence. The night air pressed against his skin, but inside he was numb. He stood there, broken, staring into the darkness, as if the forest itself could swallow his pain.

He stepped out of the car, the night air hitting his face like a cruel reminder of reality. The jungle around him was silent, its stillness heavy, almost suffocating. And then, suddenly,

AAAHHH!!!"

AAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

Aditya screamed — a raw, piercing cry that tore through the quiet, echoing against the trees.

The pain inside him was unbearable, forcing him down to his knees. His body trembled, his hands clutching the earth as though it could absorb his sorrow. Tears streamed freely once again, unstoppable, burning his eyes as his cries grew louder.

The jungle remained unmoved, its silence swallowing his voice, making his agony sound even more desperate. His screams rose, broke, and fell into sobs, but no one answered. Only the echo of his own pain returned to him, amplifying the loneliness that consumed his soul.

He stumbled out of the car, his chest heaving, his breath ragged. The jungle around him was silent, its stillness pressing down like a weight. And then, from the depths of his shattered soul, he screamed — a scream so loud it ripped through the night.

“Aakhir kyu! Kyu! Kyu! Kyu! Kyu!” he cried, his voice echoing again and again, bouncing off the trees, swallowed by the darkness. Each repetition was heavier, more desperate, as if the question itself was tearing him apart.

His knees gave way, and he collapsed against the bonnet of the car, sobbing uncontrollably. “Kyu… aakhir kyu mere saath hi aisa kyu…” His words broke into fragments, drowned by tears. He tried to gather strength, tried to hold himself together, but the more he fought, the more he shattered.

The jungle remained silent, indifferent, its quiet only amplifying his cries. His tears streamed endlessly, his body trembling, his voice fading into sobs. Alone in the wilderness, Aditya’s pain became the only sound — a haunting echo of a heart that could no longer bear its own weight.

On the empty road, Aditya’s fists slammed against the ground, each blow echoing through the silence of the jungle. It was his old habit — the way he had always tried to fight his demons. He struck again and again, until the sting in his knuckles grew sharper than the ache in his heart.

He kept hitting, punishing himself, as though the physical pain could overpower the storm inside him. His body trembled, his breath broke into sobs, but he did not stop. Every punch was a desperate attempt to silence the questions that haunted him, to bury the grief that refused to leave.

No one knew how long he had been hitting himself. Every punch, every slap, every mark was an attempt to blur the old pain. But today… today was different. Today it wasn’t working.

Even after thousands of attempts, neither the pain lessened nor the tears stopped. The knuckles of his right hand were torn, swollen, bruised. On the jungle’s rough, uneven road, every strike only broke his hand further. Blood began to flow, yet he could not feel the pain.

He grew tired of beating himself. His breath was heavy, his hands drenched in blood, but the storm inside him was still alive. He realized — today his old remedy was failing. Today even physical pain could not suppress the torment in his heart.

And in that moment, he understood… he could not go home.

He had already decided not to return. Wiping his tears, his hands smeared with blood, Aditya sat back inside the car, ready to drive away from everything. His heart was heavy, his body broken, but his mind had chosen escape.

And then, like a cruel reminder, Ayaan’s voice echoed in his memory — the call he had ignored, the words he could not forget:

“Bhaiya, meri engagement hai. Jaante ho, main bahut khush hoon. Aisa lagta hai main iss duniya ka sabse khushnasheeb insaan hoon. Main ushse bahut pyaar karta hoon bhai woh mere puri duniya hai , bhai. Aisa lag raha hai Bhagwan ne mujhe sab kuch de diya hai… bas aapke kami hai. Jaldi se aa jao, kyunki meri khushi aapke bina adhoori hai.”

Those words pierced through his chaos. Even though he did not want to, even though his pain screamed for him to run, his heart refused to turn the car away. His grief chained him, but his brother’s love pulled him back.

Aditya gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles raw and bleeding, his tears blurring his vision. He could not escape, he could not move forward — and yet, he could not deny the bond that tied him to his brother. In that moment, his pain and his love collided, leaving him trapped between destruction and duty.

He felt utterly powerless, broken beyond repair. Sitting there in silence, his tears still fresh, his hands stained with blood, he realized he could not escape. After a long pause, he wiped his face, smearing away the tears and the pain, and turned the key in the ignition.

The engine roared back to life, and slowly, he began to drive forward. Each mile was heavy, each breath a struggle, but he kept moving. His heart was still drowning, his wounds still raw, yet he forced himself onward.

Toward Raizayada Mansion he went — the place of lights, laughter, and celebration. He was ready to hide the torment that burned inside him, even though he knew it was impossible to conceal. His pain clung to him like a shadow, but still, he prepared to wear a mask, to bury the storm beneath a fragile smile.