Chapter 2: Awakening

I opened my eyes and saw a beautiful woman smiling at me. She had fair skin, long black hair, and almond-shaped eyes. She wore a red sari and a lot of jewelry. She looked like a goddess.

She was my mother.

"Raghunath, you are awake. How do you feel?" she asked me in Marathi, the language of the Marathas.

I tried to answer, but I couldn't. I didn't know Marathi. I only knew Hindi and English, the languages of modern India.

I panicked. How could I communicate with her? How could I explain my situation? How could I pretend to be her son?

I felt a surge of pain in my head. It was too much to handle.

I fainted.

When I regained consciousness, I was in a different room. It was spacious and luxurious, with a large bed, a wooden desk, a bookshelf, and a window. There were paintings, sculptures, and weapons on the walls. There were carpets, cushions, and curtains on the floor.

It was my room.

I looked around and saw a man sitting on a chair next to me. He had a strong build, a sharp face, and a mustache. He wore a white kurta, a yellow turban, and a sword. He looked like a king.

He was my father.

"Raghunath, you are awake. How do you feel?" he asked me in Marathi, the same language as my mother.

I tried to answer, but I still couldn't. I didn't learn Marathi in my previous life. I only learned Hindi and English, the languages of modern India.

I panicked again. How could I communicate with him? How could I explain my situation? How could I pretend to be his son?

I felt another surge of pain in my head. It was too much to handle.

I fainted again.

When I woke up for the third time, I was in the same room, but with a different person. He was a young man, around my age, with a handsome face and a friendly smile. He wore a green kurta, a blue turban, and a dagger. He looked like a prince.

He was my brother.

"Raghunath, you are awake. How do you feel?" he asked me in Hindi, the language of the Mughals.

I was surprised. He spoke Hindi, the language I knew. How did he know Hindi? Why did he speak Hindi?

I realized he was trying to help me. He knew I couldn't speak Marathi. He knew I was different.

He knew I was not his brother.

But he didn't expose me. He didn't betray me. He didn't hate me.

He accepted me.

I felt a wave of gratitude in my heart. He was the first person who understood me. He was the first person who cared for me. He was the first person who befriended me.

He was my brother.

"Raghunath, you are awake. How do you feel?" he repeated in Hindi, the language I knew.

I opened my mouth and spoke for the first time in this world.

"I feel... fine. Thank you, brother." I said in Hindi, the language we shared.

He smiled and hugged me.

"Welcome to the Maratha Empire, Raghunath. I am Balaji, your younger brother. And you are the crown prince, the future Peshwa, the leader of the Marathas. You have a great destiny ahead of you, brother. And I will be by your side, always." he said in Hindi, the language of our bond.

I smiled and hugged him back.

"Thank you, Balaji. You are the best brother I could ever have. And I will be by your side, always." I said in Hindi, the language of our friendship.

I felt a spark of hope in my soul.

Maybe I could survive in this world.

Maybe I could fulfill my dream.

Maybe I could make history.