CANVAS OF COURAGE [Ongoing]

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"Solace is found in the quiet kindness of a stranger, a fleeting moment that feels like home. Sometimes, the unfamiliar holds the comfort we never knew we needed."

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AUTHOR POV

Isn't it so strange, sometimes, it's in the most unexpected moments that we find the solace we always yearned for.   A calm we chased endlessly, we wanted desperately, offered not by someone familiar, but by a stranger—gentle, unassuming, and yet profoundly comforting. It's as though fate plays its quiet game, giving us what we need, not when we long for it, but when we truly deserve it, when the weight of the world feels unbearable. when we desperately want to let go.

Siddharth found it not in familiar faces but in the calm presence of Sanvi's mother. Her gentle touch on his head felt like a quiet promise—a reminder that he was safe, cared for. It wasn't loud or dramatic, but in its simplicity, it held the strength to make him feel whole again. Sometimes, solace doesn't come from where we expect—it comes from the unspoken kindness of strangers.   It was a reminder that comfort isn't always given when it's demanded, but when the soul truly needs to heal. 

The first light of dawn crept through the windows as the clock chimed five. The air was heavy with quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before. Sanvi's father had left earlier, called away for an investigation, while Eshan, who had come to the hospital during the late hours, was finally convinced to leave by Sanvi's mother. She had insisted he return home to rest and promised she would stay until morning. Though reluctant at first, Eshan eventually agreed, trusting her calm assurance. Kaira stayed back to watch over Arya, leaving the hospital in her capable hands.

Sanvi lay soundly asleep, her breathing soft and steady. Siddharth, too, slept with an unusual peace, as though years of turmoil had been gently lulled away. But in the quiet of the moment, he shifted in his sleep, stirring softly. His eyes fluttered open, hazy and disoriented, as he tried to sit up. It took him a few moments to piece together where he was. Hearing the faint rustle of movement, Sanvi's mother, resting on the couch nearby, woke and instinctively moved toward him.

He slowly murmured, "Sanvi... is she... is she okay? Where is she?" His voice was barely audible yet laced with a hint of urgency. 

Sanvi's mother, startled by his words that even after waking up from fighting nightmare he still worried about if Sanvi is ok or not, did he forget he is hospitalized too.  But careful not to show her alarm, quickly moved closer to him.

 Her tone was soft and tender, like a mother gently coaxing her child awake. "Bacche, be careful. You've just woken up," she said, her voice filled with warmth and concern.

Siddharth blinked, his gaze shifting toward her. Confusion clouded his eyes as if he wasn't entirely sure if he was dreaming or awake. The sound of her voice stirred something deep within him—memories of a nightmare, the same voice that had brought him comfort in the darkest hours. 

"Are you okay now?" she asked gently, leaning in closer. "Did you have the nightmare again?" Her words seemed to confirm what he had been grappling with in his hazy thoughts. He nodded negatively slowly, his movements tentative, as though unsure of himself.

"Do you need water?" she asked again,

 Siddharth nodded once more, silent but trusting her presence. She reached for the water and offered it to him, her touch light and careful. "Here, drink this. It'll help you feel better." As he took the glass, her eyes stayed on him, watching every small movement.