Chapter 53 Way Of Dehradun
Rimjhim quietly steps away from his embrace. She says nothing, moving silently toward her room. Each step feels heavier, as though with every movement she walks farther from her own identity.
As soon as she reaches her room, she closes the door behind her.
The moment she locks it, all the strength inside her breaks. She leans her back against the door and slowly slides down to the floor.
Her silent tears cannot be contained. Covering her mouth with her hands, she tries to suppress the sobs from deep within her soul. She does not want anyone to hear her pain. But she cannot stop it she weeps, heartbroken and alone, as if her spirit is being torn apart in the quiet of that room.
Meanwhile, four buses depart from the hospital, each headed toward the medical camp in Dehradun. In every bus, there is one senior doctor, while the rest of the seats are filled with junior trainees and medical interns. A certain buzz fills the air new city, new people, and a new experience await them all.
Dr. Karan sits in Bus Number 1, tall, charming, and undeniably handsome. He is already the center of attention. In the same bus, Riya sits silent and composed, her eyes fixed on the scenery outside the window. She doesn’t speak to anyone, especially not to Karan, who watches her intently.
Karan’s gaze doesn’t leave her face. He keeps up casual conversations with some of the younger interns, laughing and joking with ease, but in truth, his eyes follow only one person: Riya. She, on the other hand, does everything in her power to avoid looking at him.
Inside, Karan smirks to himself, thinking, Wait till we reach Dehradun, Riya. You’ve started showing a lot of attitude lately completely ignoring me? Really? Alright, let’s see how long that lasts.
Riya doesn’t glance at him even once.
Her face is calm but distant, as if lost in her own world. Her fingers nervously twist the edge of her dupatta, and her eyes, though outwardly fixed on the passing landscape, hold a quiet storm inside. Every little move she makes tucking her hair behind her ear, sighing softly, or blinking back some unspoken thought Karan notices it all.
Meanwhile, the other girls in the bus are clearly not oblivious to Karan’s presence. One after the other, they find excuses to talk to him.
“Sir, have you ever been to Dehradun before?” one asks, her eyes sparkling.
“Sir, which hospital do you like working in the most?” another chimes in.
Some don’t even bother with questions they just try to sit closer to him or hover nearby, claiming they want the window seat.
Karan answers them all politely, a charming smile never leaving his face, but inwardly, he is preoccupied. His attention remains completely on Riya, who, despite sitting so close, seems to have built an invisible wall between them.
Her aloofness begins to challenge him. Once again, he thinks, "Just wait, Riya. When we get to Dehradun, you’ll see what I’m capable of. This silent treatment, this cold attitude you won’t get away with it for long. You can ignore me all you want, but I can’t stop looking at you. And trust me, soon, you won’t be able to stay away either."
Inside Shekhawat Villa, I sit on the sofa, but I can’t hold myself together for long. Within moments, I move into my father’s arms, clinging to him tightly, my heart heavy with emotions. He gently runs his hand through my hair, the way only a father does when trying to piece together a broken world. I can see the shimmer of tears in his eyes, but his voice holds a calm steadiness.
Softly, he says, “I knew it… wherever my daughter was, she would be safe. This house has felt empty without you, Ishani. And as for your husband…” He pauses briefly, a small smile tugging at his lips, “SR is not someone who can be easily erased from this world. He’s fire, Ishani… and if he chooses to burn someone, he reduces them to ashes.”
I close my eyes as I cling to him. After so many days, I am home, wrapped in my father’s comforting arms a place where every pain feels distant, almost unreal.
My tears silently spill, yet my face carries a fragile joy. It feels like a burden has finally been lifted from my heart.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, I notice Neeti sitting quietly on the edge of the couch. Her expression is blank, lost in thought, with a shadow of sadness clouding her features.
My father’s eyes drift toward her. He senses something is wrong, something Neeti is holding inside, refusing to speak of.
With gentle concern, he asks, “Neeti child… what’s wrong? Is everything alright?”
Neeti gives him a faint, forced smile and replies softly, “Nothing, Dad. Everything’s fine.”
But my father can read her face. He knows everything isn’t fine, but he doesn’t press further. Instead, he simply smiles back with warmth and says, “Let me inform Shorya that you’ve come back. He’ll be here in no time once he hears.”
Neeti’s face changes instantly. Her heart skips a beat. She stands up quickly, her voice filled with urgency, “No, Dad, please… don’t tell him. I… I’ll talk to him when I’m ready.”
Without waiting for a response, she hurries to her room and disappears behind the door.
My father watches her go, concern etched on his face. He says nothing, but I can feel he knows Neeti is hiding something. Something painful.
Then, slowly, I begin to speak. Bit by bit, I start telling my father everything the truth, the journey I have endured.
My father listens to me intently. I slowly begin to tell him everything every pain I endured, every struggle I faced. I can see concern and understanding in his eyes. His hands run through my hair, his calm, deep love giving me strength. I feel a small sense of relief wash over me.