webnovel

"What am I in India in 2014?"

"A man, after death, crosses the boundaries of his universe and enters a parallel universe, where he meets Krishna and reborn in 2014 with a few gifts Krishna has given him. Now, let’s see how he will influence the world of politics, business, art, and other industries." ________________ "I wasn’t sure where to categorize this novel, so I placed it in the fanfiction movie section. Although much of the story is original, it includes names, events, and real-life characters. I did not intend to hurt anyone, and if I have inadvertently offended anyone, I apologize."

TheOneWithoutName · Filem
Peringkat tidak cukup
22 Chs

12. “Who Cares? I’m Hungry. I Just Want To Go Home And Eat”

(What happens in this chapter is related to Hari's peacock feather locket.)

[PARTH'S POV]

As I navigated through the bustling streets on my bike, the evening sky shifted into hues of orange and pink, signaling the approach of night. My heart raced a little as I thought about today's significance—January 14, Makar Sankranti—a day of celebration, but also the day I'd been waiting for since that cryptic email arrived 11 days ago.

Arriving at Shri Swaminarayan temple, I was immediately struck by its grandeur. The temple's intricate carvings seemed to glow against the twilight, a stark contrast to the crowds milling about. I parked my bike, my mind swirling with questions about the unknown person I was supposed to meet. As I stepped off, the sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air, mingling with the scent of incense and flowers.

I noticed some beggars at the entrance, their faces etched with hardship. Without hesitation, I reached into my pocket and handed them some money, hoping it would bring a little warmth to their day. I walked inside, joining the throng of people eager for darshan.

The line snaked around the temple, a testament to the devotion of the crowd. I stood there, feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The clock on my phone read 5:45 PM. With 15 minutes left until the meeting, I focused on the vibrant decorations that adorned the temple—colorful kites swaying gently in the breeze, a nod to the festival's spirit.

As I waited, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something significant was about to unfold. I closed my eyes for a moment, inhaling the fragrance of marigolds and sandalwood, grounding myself amidst the chaos.

As I stood in line, the chaos of the temple began to fade into the background. My gaze wandered, and I noticed a group of people bypassing the queue entirely, entering the sanctum with an air of entitlement. The so-called VIPs. It was a familiar sight, reminiscent of my experiences at Dagadu Sheth Ganapati temple. Sighing internally, I turned my attention back to the front.

After a while, it was finally my turn. I approached Shri Swaminarayan's idol, bowing my head in reverence. I offered a silent prayer, hoping for clarity and guidance. With my spirit slightly lifted, I made my way to a quiet area where others sat in meditation. I found a spot beside them, settling onto the cool ground, and looked up at the sky. The first stars began to twinkle, and the moon hung like a silver coin against the darkening canvas.

Closing my eyes, I focused on my breath, allowing the sounds of the temple to wash over me. But soon, a soft melody broke through—the enchanting notes of a flute. I opened my eyes, bewildered. The sound was ethereal, unlike anything I'd ever heard, and it seemed to resonate deep within me.

I glanced around, but no one else appeared to notice the music; they continued their meditation, undisturbed. The flute's melody wove through the air, wrapping around me like a gentle embrace. It felt as if it was calling me, urging me to follow its enchanting allure.

Unable to resist, I got to my feet, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and curiosity. I followed the sound, weaving through the meditating crowd, drawn toward the source.

As I continued walking away from the crowd, the flute's melody resonated more intensely, wrapping around me like a soft blanket. It was then I noticed I wasn't alone in this peculiar experience. Four others—two boys and two girls—were also drawn to the sound, their expressions mirroring my confusion and curiosity.

We exchanged glances, and one of the girls spoke up, her voice trembling slightly. "Um, did you all hear this music too? Everyone around me just... didn't react to it." Her eyes were wide with apprehension.

"Yeah," replied one of the boys, a hint of anxiety creeping into his tone. "I asked someone next to me, and they said they couldn't hear anything. What about you guys?" He looked at the rest of us, searching for answers.

I nodded, feeling a sense of solidarity in our confusion. "It's like... the music is only for us," I said, my voice steadying as I tried to make sense of the situation.

Another boy, his brow furrowed, spoke up, "Can any of you explain what's happening? This is getting weird—it feels like the sound is pulling me towards something." His unease was palpable, and I could sense the collective tension among us.

"I feel the same way," the other girl chimed in, her voice soft but firm. "It's almost like... we're meant to follow it."

A moment of silence fell over us as we processed what was happening. The flute's notes danced through the air, urging us forward. Something deep within me stirred, an instinct that perhaps we were being led to something significant—something that could change our lives forever.

I looked at the group, a mix of curiosity and tension swirling around us. "By any chance, did you guys also receive a weird email?" I asked, gauging their reactions.

The first boy's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean 'also'? You got one too?"

As we all nodded, I pulled out my phone, sharing the mysterious message that had summoned me here. The others did the same, revealing their screens. A collective murmur of disbelief rippled through us as we compared notes.

"This is getting really strange," the first girl said, her brow furrowing. "Why would someone call all of us here?" She looked around, as if expecting an answer to materialize from the air.

"Do we even know each other?" she asked, glancing at each of us. We all shook our heads, the uncertainty settling heavily in the air.

"I didn't think so. This is the first time I'm seeing all of you," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "By the way, I'm Parth Bhagwat."

"Nice to meet you, Parth," the girl beside me said with a small smile. "I'm Nandini Nimbalkar."

Another girl chimed in, "I'm Lavanya Pawar."

The first boy stepped forward, his expression serious yet curious. "I'm Sidharth Deshmukh."

And finally, the other boy introduced himself, a hint of confidence in his voice. "I'm Vishal Sawant."

As we finished introducing ourselves, Nandini turned to us, a look of uncertainty on her face. "So, what's next? Are we really going to follow this flute medley?"

"It feels like my heart is pulling me toward it," I admitted, the melody weaving through my thoughts, enticing and irresistible. "I don't sense any danger. I think I'm going."

Without waiting for a consensus, I took the first step forward. The moment I moved, I felt an electric thrill rush through me, urging me onward. The others glanced at each other, then followed suit.

As I picked up my pace, my heart raced, a mix of exhilaration and apprehension flooding my senses. I could hear Nandini shout something from behind, but her words were lost in the rush of my thoughts and the enchanting music that seemed to guide me. The world around us faded, the crowd of the temple melting away, leaving only the melody that tugged at my very soul.

I found myself running, each stride filled with a blend of excitement and an inexplicable sense of purpose. The flute's notes grew clearer, more defined, almost as if they were speaking to me. I glanced back to see the others close behind, their expressions a mix of surprise and determination.

"Wait up!" Sidharth called out, his voice cutting through the rhythm of the night. "Where are we even going?"

"I don't know, but it feels right!" I shouted back, my heart pounding in my chest as we pressed on.

After what felt like an eternity of running, my legs suddenly stopped, frozen in place as I stared in disbelief. My heart raced in my chest, a relentless drum echoing my confusion and wonder. Before me sat a young boy beneath a sprawling banyan tree, a scene so captivating that it felt surreal.

His beauty was surreal, almost fragile. His delicate features seemed sculpted by the hands of the divine, and I felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him, as if he might shatter like glass at my fingertips. He wore a flowing white kurta with a mandarin collar, the fabric rippling softly with the gentle breeze. His white pants complemented the kurta, and a green and gold shawl draped elegantly over one shoulder, adding a touch of regal grace to his appearance.

His long, dark hair framed his face, cascading down like a waterfall, catching the last rays of sunlight. Around his neck hung a peacock feather locket, its iridescent colors shimmering brightly, catching my eye with its ethereal glow. The way he held the flute was almost reverent; it seemed to come alive in his hands, each note flowing effortlessly, weaving a melody that caressed the air.

Birds perched nearby, enchanted by the music, their small forms still and serene as they listened. His eyes were closed, a small smile dancing on his lips as if he were in a world of his own creation. The scene was mesmerizing, and for a moment, I felt as though time had ceased to exist.

I glanced at the others who had followed me—Nandini, Lavanya, Sidharth, and Vishal. They were equally mesmerized, their expressions a mixture of astonishment and reverence. In that moment, it felt as though the world around us had faded away, leaving only the boy and the music, creating a cocoon of serenity.

My heart raced with recognition. This was what my father had spoken of—the one he referred to as my Madhav.

Without a second thought, I dropped to my knees, folding my hands in prayer. Tears streamed down my cheeks, a mixture of joy and confusion washing over me. I didn't fully understand what was happening, but I felt a deep connection to this boy, a pull that transcended the ordinary.

"Who is he?" Nandini's voice trembled, breaking the silence, but I couldn't tear my gaze away.

"I don't know," I replied, my voice shaky. "But it feels like I've been searching for him my entire life." The weight of my worries and fears seemed to dissolve in the face of such purity.

As if sensing our reverence, the boy slowly opened his eyes, revealing depths that sparkled with unspoken wisdom. His gaze met mine, and in that instant, the world around us faded away. It was as if he could see into my soul, recognizing the longing and uncertainty that had guided me here.

He smiled—a soft, knowing smile that made my heart swell. As the boy stopped playing his flute, he moved it gracefully between his fingers, a playful glint in his eyes. "What's up, guys? Seems you all got my email!" His voice was light and casual, as if he were just a regular guy having a chat. But the way he looked at me, that sparkle in his eyes, suggested he was aware of so much more than he let on.

"Hey, Parth! Why are you on your knees and crying, bro? Everything all right?" He leaned forward slightly, his playful smile not fading, but it only made my heart race more. I was caught off guard, still overwhelmed by the surreal beauty of the moment.

I stared at him, lost for words. It felt like a dream—this extraordinary boy, with his aura of divinity, speaking to me so casually. As I gathered my thoughts, he tilted his head slightly, concern mingling with mischief. "Hey man, are you there? Why are you crying?"

I blinked, the reality of his question breaking through my reverie. Slowly, I got to my feet, brushing the dust from my knees, though I knew it was more than just dirt. "Nothing," I said, a smile breaking through as I wiped my tears. "Just some dust in my eyes."

The others exchanged curious glances, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. I could feel Nandini's skeptical gaze on me, but the boy simply shrugged, his demeanor relaxed. "If you say so," he replied, his voice laced with a gentle teasing that somehow made me feel at ease.

The boy's laughter rang through the air, light and infectious. "But I didn't expect you all to really come!" He looked at each of us, his expression a mix of amusement and surprise.

Vishal, clearly nervous, shifted on his feet. "I didn't understand anything in that email. It was written in some unknown language. I only got the address, time, and date." His voice trembled slightly, but there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes.

The boy's laughter only grew. "Hahaha! You want to know why you didn't understand what was written in that email? What language it was?" We all nodded eagerly, caught up in his mirth, even as confusion lingered in the air.

"Because that language doesn't exist!" he exclaimed, shaking his head as if the idea was the most ridiculous thing. "I didn't know what to write, and I was bored, so I just typed random keys on the keyboard and included the address, time, and date. I knew that when you read that email, you'd definitely be curious and come here."

Lavanya shook her head and said. "You mean to tell us you just typed gibberish to get us here?"

"Exactly!" he replied, his grin widening. "I wanted to see who would actually show up. And look at you all! Here you are, proving that sometimes, curiosity leads us to the most unexpected places."

Hearing the boy's words, we exchanged glances, uncertainty hanging in the air. Sidharth, his brows furrowed in thought, finally broke the silence, looking straight at the boy. "So you just made a fool of us and wasted our time calling us here?"

The boy's laughter faded, replaced by a calm, almost serene smile. "Do you really think your time is wasted because you came here?" His gaze held a depth that made me uneasy. I turned to Sidharth, curious about how he would respond, but he simply stared down at the ground, lost in thought.

The boy continued, his voice gentle yet firm. "Everything happens for a reason, Sidharth. And I called you here today for a reason too."

Lavanya stepped forward, her curiosity piqued. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with an underlying tension.

The boy's smile returned, lighting up his face. "Well, people call me by different names. Some call me Hari, my Aji and Ajoba call me Mauli, and recently, people have started to call me Shri. So which one do you prefer?"

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Madhav." The name slipped from my lips, heavy with emotion. It felt as if the word held a deeper significance, something that resonated within me.

Hearing my words, the boy smiled and said, "A new name, Madhav? Isn't it? Okay, from now on, you all can call me Madhav."

Nandini, her brow furrowed in curiosity, chimed in, "Can we know why you called us here today?"

Madhav nodded, his smile widening. "Of course, that's why I called you. But first, let me ask you all a question." He paused, looking each of us in the eye. "When you entered the temple, you saw some beggars. Some of you gave them money, and some of you didn't. Inside, you saw people standing in line to see Shri Swaminarayan, and others using the VIP entrance. Some of you joined the regular line while others opted for the fast track."

His gaze settled on Sidharth, and he continued, "So my question is this: Who is at fault for the disparity? Why do some people beg for two meals a day while others breeze through life with privileges? Is it God's fault, or is it the fault of the people?"

The weight of his question hung in the air, and I could feel my heart pounding. The seriousness of the moment shifted the atmosphere from light-hearted banter to a profound contemplation. We exchanged glances, uncertainty filling our expressions.

Sidharth's brow furrowed deeper as he considered the question. "It's a complicated situation," he finally replied. "It's not just one thing or the other. Society plays a huge role in creating these disparities."

Madhav nodded, his expression encouraging. "Exactly! It's easy to point fingers, but the truth is much more intricate. We, as individuals, contribute to the fabric of our society. Our choices—whether to give or to ignore, to follow the crowd or stand in line—shape the world around us."

Lavanya crossed her arms, her voice firm. "But isn't it also about the systems in place? Some people are born into privilege while others are not."

"True," Madhav replied, his tone thoughtful. "But those systems are built by people. Change begins with awareness and intention. The question is, what will you do with that awareness?"

His words resonated deeply within me. I felt a stirring, as if he was urging us to take action, to not just accept the world as it is but to strive for something better. The air was thick with potential, and I could sense that this conversation was just the beginning.

Madhav's eyes sparkled with a mix of wisdom and playfulness. "You five, my Pandavas, have come here for a reason. Each of you carries something unique within you, something that can create ripples in the world. But first, you need to understand your purpose."

Nandini, ever the pragmatist, asked, "What do you mean by purpose? We're just ordinary people trying to navigate our lives."

Madhav shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Ordinary? I don't believe in the concept of ordinary. Each of you has the power to influence your surroundings. The choices you make, the compassion you show, and the courage to challenge the status quo can ignite change."

I felt a rush of determination swelling within me. "So, you're saying we should take action? But how? It feels overwhelming."

"Start small," he replied, gesturing towards the bustling temple grounds filled with people from all walks of life. "Look around you. There are opportunities to help and uplift others everywhere. It could be as simple as a smile, a kind word, or even lending a hand. When you do, you're not just giving; you're sharing a part of yourself."

Vishal, who had been quiet for a while, finally spoke up. "But what if it feels like we're just dropping a drop in the ocean? Can our small actions really make a difference?"

Madhav's smile widened. "Every ocean is made up of countless drops. You may not see the immediate impact, but trust me, it matters. You have no idea how your kindness can inspire others to act. One small gesture can create a chain reaction."

As he spoke, I glanced around, taking in the scene—the flickering lamps, the devotees in prayer, and the street vendors calling out to customers. Each moment felt alive, pulsing with potential.

Lavanya broke the silence again, her voice laced with curiosity. "And what about the bigger issues? How do we tackle those?"

"By first changing ourselves," Madhav answered simply. "Examine your values, question your beliefs, and challenge the norms. It's not easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is. Change begins within."

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, we were all lost in thought. I could feel a fire igniting within me, a desire to be more than just a bystander in my own life. I wanted to contribute, to matter.

---------------------

[HARI'S POV]

As I looked into the eyes of the five individuals before me, I could sense their apprehension mingled with curiosity. The night air was thick with anticipation, and the soft rustle of leaves seemed to echo my words. "Do you ever see a politician or a king who genuinely thinks about his people's happiness? Thinks about their bright future? Never. And God counts this as wrong deeds. When the weight of these wrongs rises, He sends Mahapurush—who carry dharm in their hearts to restore balance."

I paused, letting my words sink in. I could see Nandini's brow furrow in thought, while Sidharth shifted nervously, contemplating the gravity of what I was proposing. "It's our responsibility to uplift those around us, to inspire change. The first step we need to take is to start a small business. I've chosen each of you for a reason, and now it's your turn to decide if you want to embark on this journey with me."

The night was illuminated by the gentle glow of the temple lamps. "Remember, one decision can carve out one's destiny. One choice can alter the course of your life."

As I took in their wide-eyed expressions, I wondered if I had overshared. 'Did I talk too much?' I thought to myself, anxiety creeping in. But before I could dwell on it, Parth stepped forward, his voice steady and sincere. "Madhav, I choose you for this journey. I want you to be my guide."

A moment of silence hung in the air, and then, like a wave, each of them followed suit. Sidharth, Vishal, Lavanya, and Nandini each declared their commitment to join me, their faces lit with determination and excitement. My heart swelled with gratitude; these five were not just acquaintances anymore—they were allies, bound by a shared purpose.

"Great! My five Pandavas!" I exclaimed, a grin breaking across my face. "Let's go! Follow me!" I started to walk away, my steps light with anticipation.

"Wait! Where are we going?" Vishal called out, a hint of confusion in his voice.

Hearing this, I stopped and turned around to look at them, grinning playfully. "We're going to my home, where else? Today's Makar Sankranti, after all. Oh, by the way, happy Makar Sankranti!" I added, throwing in the greeting as if I'd just remembered it.

The group exchanged confused glances as I continued, completely oblivious to their reactions. "So yeah, I told my mom I'm bringing back some friends with me for dinner. She's probably already done cooking, and if I'm late, she's definitely going to scold me. Let's go!" With that, I started walking again, feeling the familiar excitement that only good home-cooked food can bring.

They still looked at me strangely but followed without saying anything. I glanced over my shoulder and caught their bewildered expressions, which made me pause for a second. 'Why are they staring at me like that?' I thought, but the curiosity was fleeting, replaced by a louder, more pressing thought. 'Who cares? I'm hungry. I just want to go home and eat.'

As I walked ahead, I couldn't help but think about how perfect this day was shaping up.

(Word's Count:-3812)