The Return

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The air in the garage was thick with grease, gasoline, and unspoken words. Hammers clanked against metal, the occasional burst of laughter from other mechanics echoing through the space, but between Arnav and Rahul, there was only silence. The kind that weighed heavy.

Arnav finally broke it, stepping closer, his voice edged with frustration yet laced with desperation. "Rahul, ek baar meri baat toh sun yaar."

Rahul, who had been tightening a bolt on a bike, threw the wrench down with a clang and turned sharply. His eyes burned with unspoken concern. "Kya sunu main teri?" His voice rose, frustration spilling over. "Bhagwan ne dimaag diya hai… usse bhi istemal kar liya kar kabhi!"

Arnav’s jaw tightened, but he stayed silent as Rahul continued, words tumbling out like a dam had broken. "Tune un baccho ki madad ki, bohot acchi baat hai. Par ab tu unhe apne saath rakhna chahta hai? Woh bhi hamesha ke liye? Tune ek baar bhi socha kaise sambhalega tu un dono ko? Tere paas na achhi naukri hai, na teri koi umar hai bacche sambhalne ki! Tera sapna tha na doctor banne ka? Pehle hi is naukri ke wajah se tujhe theek se padhne ka waqt nahi milta… ab un dono ki baby-sitting bhi apne upar le li hai? Kab waqt milega tujhe apne liye bata? NEET crack karna asaan nahi hota, Arnav!"

The words cut deep, not because Arnav hadn’t thought of them himself, but because they mirrored his own silent fears. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his throat tight as he struggled to form words. And then, his voice, low but firm—filled with quiet determination.

"Toh kya karta main?" He looked Rahul in the eyes, unwavering. "Un masoomon ko aise hi chhod deta marne ke liye?"

Rahul flinched, but Arnav wasn’t done. His voice cracked slightly, his vulnerability slipping through. "Main jaanta hoon, mere paas abhi utne paise nahi hain ki unki saari zaruratein poori kar sakun… par main kuch na kuch kar lunga. Mujhse jitna ban padega, main karunga. Aur rahi baat mere sapne ki…" He exhaled a shaky breath, a bitter smile curling at his lips. "Woh toh shayad waise bhi pura nahi hota. Bina tuition aur guidance ke entrance exam… bohot mushkil hai. Aur meri itni haisiyat nahi ki kisi mahange coaching mein admission kara sakun. Kuch sapne shayad waise bhi tootne ke liye hote hain."

The resignation in his voice made Rahul’s chest ache. He had seen Arnav push himself beyond limits, studying in dim garage light during breaks, fixing cars by day and flipping through medical books by night. He knew how much becoming a doctor meant to him.

"Aisa mat bol yaar…" Rahul whispered, his anger melting into sadness. "Tu bohot accha hai padhai mein. Apne potential ko aise waste mat kar. Kabhi kabhi hume apni bhawnayein side rakhkar khud ke baare mein sochna padta hai, Arnav."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before speaking cautiously, "Dekh, main yeh nahi keh raha ki tu unhe chhod de… bas kisi acchi jagah bhej dete hain. Anath ashram—wahan unka accha khayal rakha jaayega."

Something cracked inside Arnav at those words. A deep, invisible string that had tied itself around his heart ever since Aryan and Atharv entered his life. Five days. Just five days. Yet in those five days, something had shifted inside him.

The way Aryan had tried to take care of him when he was sick, the way Atharv clung to him, whispering “Bhaiya” in that soft, trusting voice… He had thought he was saving them, but the truth was—they had saved him. Given him a purpose, a reason to keep going.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and said, his voice quiet yet unshakable, "They are not going anywhere." His eyes met Rahul’s, dark and determined. "Maine unhe apna bhai maana hai… aur jab tak main zinda hoon, woh dono anath nahi hain."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, not sparing a glance back.

Rahul stood there, watching his best friend walk away, his chest heavy with emotions. He wanted to argue, to shake sense into him, but deep down, he already knew—there was no changing Arnav’s mind now.