Remarriage

The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on Samrat's temples as he returned home. Though he held no official title of Sarpanch, his family's enduring influence ensured the panchayat's decisions echoed their counsel.

Adhiraj had effortlessly managed the village affairs, leaving Samrat feeling adrift in a sea of unfamiliar complexities. He sank into the sofa, a dull throb pulsating behind his eyes, a testament to the day's arduous learning curve.

A gentle touch, soft as a feather, caressed his hair. He opened his eyes, finding his grandmother's loving gaze upon him.

"My Samrat is tired," she murmured. He nodded, surrendering to the familiar comfort of her lap.

"It's… difficult, Dadi," he confessed, his voice laced with exhaustion.

"Bhaiya made it look so easy. Theory and practice are worlds apart." A warm smile graced her lips.

"Patience, my child. Every endeavor takes time. You'll find your footing." Samrat sighed, a hint of understanding tinging his voice.

"Bhaiya mastered it so young. He knew everything, every whisper in the village. Nothing escaped his notice. Today, I understand the depth of his skill, the weight of his knowledge. I feel a renewed respect for him." His grandmother's heart swelled with pride at his words. Just then, Brinda entered, carrying a tray.

"Your tea, Dadiji," she announced softly, Samrat rose from his grandmother's lap and sat down on the couch.

After serving grandmother, she turned to Samrat.

"Water," she offered. He nodded, accepting the glass.

"Where is Viraj?" Samrat asked.

"He's with Pitaji," she replied, a subtle warmth in her tone.

"Okay," Samrat murmured, and Brinda retreated to the kitchen.

"I have some work, Dadi," Samrat said, rising. "I'll go to my room."

______

In the kitchen, Brinda heard Viraj's cries. She rushed out to find her father-in-law cradling the fretful baby.

"Bahu, he seems hungry," he said, concern etched on his face.

Brinda nodded, taking Viraj into her arms. She carried him to her old room, a space imbued with the memories of her pregnancy.

"Oh, my little one, why are you crying?" she cooed, her voice laced with maternal affection. "Maa is here to feed you, and chase away the hunger."

Viraj latched on eagerly, his cries subsiding. Once he was content, Brinda carried him to Samrat's room. She knew how much Samrat adored his nephew, a bond forged in mutual affection.

Samrat sat amidst a sea of papers, his brow furrowed in concentration. The sound of her entrance drew his attention. A soft smile illuminated his face as he saw Brinda holding Viraj. Rising, he approached them, his eyes fixed on the baby.

"Who do we have here?" he asked, his voice tender. "Viraj Rathore! Did you miss your chachu? Because chachu missed you terribly. Come here, little one."

Viraj responded with a wide, gummy smile, reaching out for Samrat. Samrat took him into his arms, a surge of affection filling his heart.

"What does Viraj want?" he asked, his voice playful.

"Do you want to go to the balcony? Hmm? The cool air on the balcony?" He gently bounced Viraj, his eyes filled with a warm love. The balcony offered a moment of respite, a gentle breeze to soothe both the baby and the man carrying villages on his shoulders.