2."MusicMelodies"

As I settled into my room, the familiar comfort of my chair welcomed me as I retrieved my laptop. With a few swift clicks, I resumed work on my novel, the glow of the screen casting a soft illumination in the dimly lit room.

As midnight approached, I reluctantly closed my laptop, setting it aside with a sense of accomplishment. My gaze wandered to the nearby camera, a device that held the promise of capturing moments of creativity and expression.

Grabbing my guitar, I made my way to the gallery, drawn to the tranquil ambiance under the moonlit sky. Setting up the camera to capture the moment, I positioned myself on the sofa, feeling the cool night breeze caress my skin.

With a deep breath, I addressed the camera, a mixture of excitement and nervousness coursing through me. "It's my first time recording myself," I admitted, a hint of anticipation in my voice. "I'm going to sing a song that I wrote myself. I hope you like it."

Adjusting the strings of my guitar, I felt a surge of inspiration as I prepared to share my creation with the world. Reflecting on the origins of the song, I acknowledged its connection to Armaan Malik in my past life, yet now it belonged solely to me.

With a final glance at the camera I said, "The name of the song is Main Rahoon Ya Na Rahoon. Hope you like it." After saying that, I started to sing.

As I finished recording, I added a few final touches to the video, ensuring it was just right before sharing it with the world. With a sense of accomplishment, I created a YouTube channel, naming it MusicMelodies, a platform where I could showcase my musical creations to a wider audience. Uploading the video, I felt a surge of excitement mixed with anticipation, wondering how it would be received by viewers.

Closing my laptop, I let out a contented sigh, feeling the weight of the day lift off my shoulders. As I settled into my comfortable bed, I allowed myself to drift into a state of blissful oblivion, the soft embrace of sleep enveloping me. In that moment, the world around me faded away, replaced by the comforting embrace of dreams and the promise of a new day ahead.

In the serene night of Hyderabad, inside the elegant house of lawyer Basavaraju Sarangapaani, his daughter Aamukta was nestled in her room, wrapped in the comfort of her bed, her iPhone in hand. Aamukta, with her striking beauty, wore her night dress as she idly scrolled through the screen of her phone.

As she refreshed her YouTube app, a captivating thumbnail caught her attention—a handsome young man seated in the moonlight, his face bathed in its gentle glow, his long black hair partially covering one eye, and a guitar in hand. The title, "Main Rahoon Ya Na Rahoon," piqued Aamukta's curiosity, prompting her to click on the video.

As the video began, the young man appeared on screen, taking his place on the sofa. Though he didn't introduce himself, his earnest demeanor hinted at his sincerity. "It was my first time recording myself. I am going to sing a song that I wrote myself. Hope you like it," he shared. Aamukta admired his courage to share his original work for the first time, and she eagerly focused on the video.

With a gentle adjustment of his guitar, the young man looked directly at the camera and announced, "The name of the song is Main Rahoon Ya Na Rahoon. Hope you like it." Intrigued, Aamukta watched as his fingers danced along the guitar strings, producing a beautiful melody. His voice, rich with emotion, resonated with every word as he sang.

"Main rahoon ya na rahoon

Tum mujh mein kahin baaki rehna

Mujhe neend aaye jo aakhiri

Tum khwabon mein aate rehna

Bas itna hai tumse kehna…(x4)

Main rahoon ya na rahoon

Tum mujhme kahin baaki rehna"

(Translation:"Whether I remain or not,

You must continue to reside within me somewhere.

Even when I fall asleep for the last time,

You must keep coming into my dreams.

This is all I have to say to you…

Whether I remain or not,

You must remain somewhere within me.)"

As Aamukta listened to the enchanting melody of his voice, she felt as though the world around her was undergoing a transformation. Each word he sang resonated deeply within her, stirring emotions she hadn't realized were dormant.

The gentle pose he struck, accompanied by the flowing melody of his guitar, seemed to weave a mesmerizing tapestry of emotions that stirred her soul.

Then the young man continued to sing the next verse of the song

"Kisi roz baarish jo aaye

Samajh lena boondon mein main hoon

Subah dhoop tumko sataaye

Samajh lena kirno mein main hoon

Kisi roz baarish jo aaye

Samajh lena boondon mein main hoon

Subah dhoop tumko sataaye

Samajh lena kirno mein main hoon

Kuch kahun ya na kahun

Tum mujhko sada sunte rehna

Bas itna hai tumse kehna…(x4)"

(Translation:"If someday it rains,

Understand that I am in the droplets.

If the morning sun troubles you,

Understand that I am in the rays.

If someday it rains,

Understand that I am in the droplets.

If the morning sun troubles you,

Understand that I am in the rays.

Whether I say something or not,

Keep listening to me forever.

This is all I have to say to you…")

As the young man's voice echoed softly against the backdrop of the night sky, Aamukta felt herself being carried away by the rhythm, losing herself in the mesmerizing melody. With each verse, it was as if his voice reached out to touch her very soul, weaving a tapestry of emotions that resonated deep within her being.

Each note was like a gentle caress, stirring feelings of longing, passion, and nostalgia within her.

Lost in the music, Aamukta closed her eyes and allowed herself to be swept away by the enchanting melody.

"Hawaaon mein lipta hua main

Guzar jaaunga tumko chhu ke

Agar mann ho to rok lena

Thehar jaaunga in labon pe

Hawaaon mein lipta hua main

Guzar jaaunga tumko chhu ke

Agar mann ho to rok lena

Thehar jaaunga in labon pe

Main dikhu ya na dikhu

Tum mujhko mehsoos karna

Bas itna hai tumse kehna..(x4)

(Translation:"I'm enfolded in the breeze,

I'll pass by, brushing against you.

If you wish, stop me,

I'll pause on these lips.

I may not be visible, but feel me,

Feel me within you.

This is all I have to say to you…")

As the final chord faded into the night, Aamukta emerged from her enchanting reverie, her eyes still fixed on the screen as the video came to a close. The sincerity in the young man's words lingered in her mind, casting a gentle spell over her.

"Thank you for hearing my song," the young man, Krishna, expressed his gratitude, his voice resonating with warmth and authenticity. Aamukta couldn't help but smile at his heartfelt appreciation, her admiration for him growing with each passing moment.

Then, as if struck by a sudden realization, Krishna's face lit up as he spoke directly to the camera, "Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Krishna. Hope you like my song." Aamukta's smile widened at his endearing gesture, finding herself drawn to his genuine charm.

Returning her focus to the video, Aamukta listened intently as Krishna shared a profound insight, "Before I close the video, I just want to say, once Lord Krishna said, 'To love without condition, to talk without intention, to give without reason, care without expectation, that's the spirit of true love. I hope you find your true love one day.'"

Krishna's words resonated deeply with Aamukta, stirring a sense of longing within her heart. She marveled at the wisdom encapsulated in his message, feeling a newfound sense of hope kindling within her soul.

As the video concluded, a radiant smile graced Aamukta's lips, illuminated by the gentle glow of the screen. "A true love, huh?" she murmured to herself, her heart fluttering with anticipation. With Krishna's melody playing in the background, she drifted off to sleep, a serene sense of contentment enveloping her being.

In the tranquil embrace of the night, a delicate blossom of love began to unfurl within Aamukta's heart, its petals blooming with the promise of newfound possibilities.

In the sprawling mansion of Vikramaditya, the air was filled with an aura of opulence and grandeur. Rows of luxurious cars lined the driveway, a testament to the wealth and success of the billionaire entrepreneur. Inside the mansion, Keerthi, Vikramaditya's devoted secretary, hurried through the ornate halls, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Her steps were purposeful as she made her way towards the garden, a place of solace and tranquility amidst the bustling estate.

As Keerthi approached the garden, her gaze fell upon Vikramaditya, seated on his wheelchair. Despite his physical limitations, there was an air of dignity and strength about him. Once a vibrant and dynamic individual, Vikramaditya's life had taken a drastic turn following a paragliding accident in Paris, leaving him quadriplegic. Since then, he had resigned himself to a life of confinement within the walls of his mansion, surrounded by his loyal secretary Keerthi, his cook Lakshmi, and a few dedicated servants.

As Keerthi approached Vikramaditya with urgency, his keen eyes caught her hurried demeanor. Concern etched on his face, he inquired about the reason for her sudden appearance in the garden at such a late hour.

"What happened, Keerthi? Is something urgent that you're coming running here in the middle of the night?" Vikramaditya's voice was tinged with worry as he watched his secretary catch her breath, her eyes alight with urgency.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Keerthi steadied her breath before responding to Vikramaditya's inquiry. "Sir, you need to see this video that was uploaded on a YouTube channel called MusicMelodies just a few minutes ago," she explained hastily, her fingers deftly navigating her phone to pull up the video in question.

With a sense of anticipation hanging in the air, Keerthi began to play the video, the soft glow of the screen illuminating the darkness of the garden. As the video unfolded, Vikramaditya's attention was drawn to the figure of a young man seated amidst the moonlight, his presence commanding yet serene.

As Vikramaditya listened to Krishna's voice and the poignant melody of his song, a single tear escaped from the corner of his eye, tracing a path down his cheek. In that moment, memories flooded his mind, transporting him back to a time when life was brimming with joy and promise.

He remembered Nandini, his beloved girlfriend, her laughter like music to his ears and her smile lighting up his world. They had shared countless cherished moments together, their love blossoming with each passing day. Vikramaditya could still feel the warmth of her embrace, the softness of her touch, as if she were standing beside him even now.

But fate had dealt them a cruel blow. The paragliding accident in Paris had shattered his dreams and left him paralyzed, confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his days. In the aftermath of the tragedy, Vikramaditya had made the difficult decision to sacrifice his own happiness for Nandini's sake.

It was Prasad, his trusted friend and legal adviser, who had delivered the heartbreaking message to Nandini on his behalf. Unable to bear the thought of burdening her with a lifetime of caregiving, Vikramaditya had chosen to set her free, believing it to be the selfless act of love.

As the strains of Krishna's song filled the air, Vikramaditya found solace in the bittersweet memories of his past. Though his heart still ached with longing for the life he once knew, he took comfort in the beauty of Krishna's music, a reminder of the power of love to transcend even the darkest of times.

As the video ended, Vikramaditya's curiosity was piqued, and he turned to his secretary, Keerthi, with a sense of urgency. "Who is he?" he inquired, his voice tinged with intrigue.

Keerthi, ever diligent, responded promptly. "He is Krishna Prasad, the owner of Nirvana Enterprises and the youngest CEO in India," she explained, her tone reflecting a hint of admiration for the young entrepreneur.

Vikramaditya's surprise was palpable as he absorbed this information. "I want to meet him. Arrange a meeting with him as soon as possible," he instructed Keerthi, his mind already racing with thoughts of the possibilities that lay ahead.

"Yes, sir," Keerthi acknowledged with a nod, noting down Vikramaditya's request in her planner. She understood the significance of this meeting and vowed to make the necessary arrangements without delay.

With a determined expression, Vikramaditya leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the screen as Keerthi replayed Krishna's video. As the haunting melody filled the garden once more, Vikramaditya found himself transported back to a time long past, a time when love and laughter had filled his days with joy.

In his mind's eye, he saw Nandini, her radiant smile illuminating his world like a beacon of hope. Memories of their time together flooded his senses, each moment etched into his heart forever. The warmth of her touch, the sound of her laughter – they were all he had left of the life he once knew.

As the video played on, Vikramaditya allowed himself to get lost in the memories, finding solace in the bittersweet reminder of a love that had been lost but never forgotten. And as he watched, he couldn't help but wonder what fate had in store for him, now that Krishna Prasad had entered his world.

As the night faded away, the morning sun cast its golden light upon Hyderabad. Inside his house, Viswanath was sleeping soundly until he was stirred awake by Krishna's voice singing a song. Startled, he quickly roused himself from sleep, muttering to himself, "What the hell is Krishna doing inside my house this early in the morning?"

Rushing out of the house, Viswanath expected to find Krishna but instead, he saw his daughter, Anu, sitting in the garden, drying her hair with a towel while Krishna's video played on her phone. Relief washed over Viswanath as he realized it was Anu who was listening to the song.

Anu noticed her father's presence and asked, "Papa, what happened?"

Viswanath brushed off her concern with a dismissive reply, "Nothing." He then glanced at the phone and inquired, "What is that?"

Anu responded excitedly, "Yesterday, Krishna posted a music video on YouTube, and it's trending! I'm listening to the song, and it's beautiful."

Surprise registered on Viswanath's face upon hearing about Krishna's video, but he merely nodded in approval. "That's good, keep listening," he said before making his way to the living room and settling onto the sofa.

Turning to Lakshmi, who was bustling around the kitchen, Viswanath requested, "Lakshmi, give me some tea."

Inside the large house in Guntur, Andhra Pradesh, Bhogineni Veera Venkata Ramana was peacefully sleeping on his bed when he suddenly heard the familiar voice of someone he harbored a dislike for, Krishna. Startled, he opened his eyes, initially disbelieving that Krishna could be in his house. However, recalling Krishna's mischievous nature, Ramana muttered to himself, "What the hell is he doing in my house?" He quickly got out of bed and headed out of his room.

To his surprise, he found his family members gathered around Raji's phone, where Krishna's music video was playing. Ramana stepped in front of them and snatched the phone from Raji's hands, abruptly stopping the video. Raji protested, asking, "What the hell are you doing, Ramana? We were watching Krishna's video. Why did you close it?" Even Raji's mother, Bujji, chimed in, saying, "Yes, Ramana, give the phone back."

Ignoring their protests, Ramana retorted, "How many times do I have to tell you, Raji, not to think about Krishna? Have you forgotten what happened in the past?" Angrily, Raji shot back, "And how many times do I have to tell you it wasn't Krishna's fault? It was me who did that and that time we were just 16."

Before Ramana could respond, Bujji interjected, "Ramana, Krishna is a nice boy. The last time he visited, he was sleeping in that room, and Raji snuck in to sleep beside him." Shocked, Ramana demanded, "You did what, Raji?" But before Raji could explain, Ramana's father, Satyam, intervened, advising, "Don't dwell on it too much, Ramana. We've known Krishna since he was little." Ramana insisted, "I'm not worried," but then he turned to Raji, reminding her, "Did you forget about Anupama?"

Raji's response was defiant. "I'll handle it, you don't have to worry," she declared, taking the phone back from Ramana and resuming the video. The tension diffused as others started to laugh at the situation, but Ramana couldn't shake off his concerns about Krishna's influence on Raji.

As I returned from my morning jog, I swung open the door to our house. Inside, I found my mother bustling about in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, while my father engaged in some light exercises nearby. Upon seeing me, my mother called out, "Krishna, freshen up and join us for breakfast."

Responding, I said, "Just give me two minutes, ma." With that, I headed to my bedroom to freshen up. After a quick shower and change of clothes, I made my way downstairs.

Descending the staircase, I noticed my father seated at the dining table, but there was no sign of Bheeshma. Curious, I inquired, "Papa, where did Bhaiyya go so early in the morning?"

My father replied, "He left with JP." Accepting his answer, I joined my father at the table, ready to enjoy the breakfast my mother had prepared.

As I pulled out of the garage and started my car, I set off towards Nirvana Enterprises, my mind already racing with the day's tasks and plans. As I navigated through the morning traffic, my attention was suddenly drawn to a figure on the sidewalk—a striking young woman dressed impeccably in professional attire, her posture exuding confidence and determination.

Instinctively, I slowed down as I approached her, recognizing her instantly. It was Amulya, one of the candidates Seenu had mentioned earlier, the one being considered for the position of my secretary.

As I opened the car window and looked at her, she met my gaze with a hint of confusion in her eyes. "Miss, how can I help you?" I inquired, noticing her distracted demeanor.

She seemed momentarily lost in thought, but my gentle wave in front of her brought her back to the present. "Miss, are you okay?" I asked again, concerned.

With a light smile, she replied, "Yes, I'm okay."

Encouraged by her response, I pressed further, "So, how can I help you?"

She explained, "I'm waiting for a rickshaw, but I don't see any around."

Offering her a solution, I said, "If you need to go somewhere, I can drop you."

Surprised by the offer, she hesitated, asking, "Are you sure?"

Smiling, I reassured her, "Of course. How can I say no to a beautiful girl like you?"

Her smile widened, and she accepted my offer, taking a seat beside me as I started the car. Curious about her destination, I inquired, "So, where should I drop you?"

She revealed, "I'm going to Nirvana Enterprises. I have an interview today with the CEO, Krishna Prasad."

Hearing her I said "I am also going there"

Amulya expressed her surprise at our shared destination, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement at the coincidence. "What a surprise indeed," I chuckled, glancing over at her. "But did you ever happen to catch a glimpse of Krishna Prasad?"

Her response was a simple shake of the head. "No, I've never seen him. But why are you going there?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued.

With a playful grin, I replied, "Ah, I work there."

"In what position?" she pressed further.

I shrugged casually. "Just an employee."

Curiosity sparked in her eyes as she leaned in, clearly eager to learn more about the enigmatic Krishna Prasad. "Can you tell me about him? Actually, I'm going for an interview for the secretary post," she revealed.

A mischievous glint danced in my eyes as I decided to have a little fun. "Ah, our boss," I began, adopting a tone of mock seriousness. "I've heard he's a bit of a womanizer. Tried to harass his previous secretary—definitely not the best character."

Amulya's expression faltered, her eyes widening in concern. "But I heard he's the youngest CEO and a good man who gives donations and does charity work," she countered.

I couldn't resist teasing her a little further. "Oh, he does all that to polish his image, but you don't have to worry. You're not exactly his type," I teased, feigning sympathy for her predicament.

Hearing this, Amulya's expression shifted to a mixture of offense and amusement. She playfully punched my arm and retorted, "What do you mean I'm not beautiful?"

As Amulya reacted to my playful comment with a playful punch, I couldn't help but chuckle at her response. "Hey, hey, easy there," I said, raising my hands in mock surrender. "I'm just teasing."

Continuing our conversation, I prodded gently, "Don't you feel like I'm going to do something to you?"

Surprised, Amulya looked at me, her expression softening. "No, it's quite the opposite," she admitted. "I actually feel comfortable around you, even though we've only just met. It's going to be fun working with you."

Her words caught me off guard, a warm feeling spreading through me at her sincerity. "Why do you think that?" I asked, genuinely curious.

With a smile, Amulya shrugged. "I just have a feeling," she said simply.

As we approached the company building, I parked the car and we made our way to the entrance. The security guard, about to greet us with a "good morning," was halted by my gesture to stop.

As we stepped into the elevator and I pressed the button for our floor, I noticed Amulya's surprise when she pressed the same button for the same floor. "So we're working on the same floor," she remarked, her astonishment evident in her tone.

"Yes, it seems so. Quite a surprise, isn't it?" I replied, mirroring her amazement.

"It is indeed," she agreed, her eyes widening slightly. Then, realizing she hadn't introduced herself yet, she extended her hand for a handshake and said, "I'm Amulya."

Taking her hand, I reciprocated the gesture and said, "Nice to meet you, Amulya." However, before I could introduce myself further, the elevator doors opened, revealing Seenu waiting outside.

As Amulya greeted Seenu with a polite "good morning, sir," he returned the greeting in kind. Then, turning to me, he delivered the unexpected news. "Bro, your music video is trending on YouTube."

Surprised by the sudden turn of conversation, I asked Seenu, "Did you make a copyright claim for me?"

"Of course, that was the first thing I did this morning," Seenu assured me, a hint of pride in his voice.

As our conversation continued, Amulya watched us with a mix of confusion and curiosity. Sensing her bewilderment, she turned to Seenu and asked, "Sir, what's going on?"

Taking the opportunity to reveal the truth, I gently took Amulya's hand and said, "I'm Krishna Prasad. It's nice to meet you, my secretary-to-be."

Amulya's reaction was immediate as she froze on the spot, her mind processing the unexpected revelation.

As we settled into my cabin, I took my seat behind the desk while Amulya and Seenu sat in front of me. Amulya's shock at learning my true identity was palpable, and I could sense her uncertainty.

"Ammu," I called out softly, trying to ease the tension.

"Yes?" she responded, still visibly taken aback.

"Can I call you Ammu?" I asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she replied, "Of course, you can call me that, boss."

I shook my head gently. "Don't call me boss. Just call me Krishna, and treat me like you were before," I insisted, wanting to reassure her.

"Okay, Krishna," she agreed, a sense of relief evident in her voice.

Turning my attention back to the matter at hand, I asked, "So, are you ready to become my secretary?"

With a newfound determination, Amulya nodded firmly. "Yes, I'm ready, Krishna."

After Seenu explained everything to Amulya and they left my cabin, I immersed myself in my work. Hours passed by, and soon, Ammu and Seenu returned, taking their seats in front of me once again.

Seenu spoke up first. "Krishna, I've explained everything to Amulya," he said.

I nodded in acknowledgment before Seenu continued, "Krishna, I received a call from Mr. Vikramaditya's secretary."

This news caught me off guard, and I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Why?" I asked, curious as to why Mr. Vikramaditya wanted to meet me.

Seenu shook his head, indicating he didn't have all the details. "They didn't specify, but Mr. Vikramaditya wants to meet you," he explained.

I furrowed my brow, puzzled by the unexpected request. "Alright, arrange a meeting with him," I instructed Seenu.

He nodded in response, then I turned to Ammu, eager to hear about our schedule for the day. "So, Ammu, tell me about our schedule for today," I prompted.

Ammu took a moment to gather her thoughts before replying, "Today, you have appointments with representatives from various companies. After that, you'll be visiting a manufacturing department."

As she outlined our schedule, I listened attentively, nodding along to each point she mentioned. With everything in order, I was ready to tackle the day ahead.

As the clock struck 5 pm, signaling the end of the workday, I began to pack up my belongings. Calling out to Ammu, I beckoned her into my cabin. "Ammu," I said with a smile as she entered, "let's head out. I'll drop you home."

Ammu hesitated for a moment before acquiescing with a nod. "If you insist, then okay," she replied, gathering her things. After bidding farewell to Seenu, we made our way to the company parking lot where my car was parked.

As we approached the car, I took the driver's seat while Ammu settled in beside me. Starting the car, we began our journey home. However, after a short while, I abruptly brought the car to a halt, prompting Ammu to inquire, "What happened, Krishna?"

Turning to face her, I pointed towards our company's coffee shop, Bean & Brews, just ahead. "Let's grab a quick coffee before I drop you home," I suggested with a smile.

Ammu followed my gaze to the coffee shop and agreed, "Okay." Parking the car nearby, we stepped inside the cozy establishment, greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Seated at the table in the cozy coffee shop, I ordered a black coffee while Ammu opted for a cappuccino. As we waited for our drinks to arrive, I turned to Ammu and asked, "How was your first day, Ammu? Did you feel any discomfort?"

Ammu replied with a smile, "It was good. People are nice in the office." I nodded in acknowledgment, pleased to hear her positive experience.

When our orders arrived, we engaged in light conversation, enjoying the warmth of the coffee and the pleasant ambiance of the café. Eventually, it was time to leave, and we made our way back to the car.

As we approached Ammu's house, I brought the car to a stop. Ammu stepped out and turned to face me. I smiled and said, "So, it's goodbye then."

Ammu nodded, replying, "Yes, it was." I bid her goodnight and added, "See you tomorrow, Ammu."

Returning the smile, Ammu said, "Goodnight, Krishna. See you tomorrow." However, as I didn't immediately start the car, she urged, "Go now, Krishna."

I chuckled at her insistence and teased, "You go first. Then I'll leave." Ammu blushed at my playful remark and admonished me, "Stop flirting with me."

With a grin, I gently pulled her cheek, remarking, "You look cute when you get shy." Ammu laughed, pulling away from my touch. "Don't say something like that," she protested.

As Ammu made her way inside her house, she waved goodbye one last time. Starting the car, I watched her disappear inside before driving off towards my own home, feeling content after a pleasant evening spent with her.

After parking my car in the garage, I stepped into the familiar comfort of my home. The aroma of dinner wafted through the air as I entered the house, greeted by the sight of my mother bustling around the kitchen. Bheeshma was lounging on the sofa, engrossed in the television.

"Hey, Krishna, how was your day?" Bheeshma asked, tearing his gaze away from the TV.

"It was good, as always," I replied with a smile, acknowledging his question before exchanging pleasantries with my mother.

Making my way to the bedroom, I shed my work clothes and indulged in a quick, refreshing shower. Emerging from the bathroom clad in casual attire, I descended the stairs, ready to join my family for dinner.

As I descended the stairs, I overheard snippets of a conversation between my father and Uncle JP. Their serious tones piqued my curiosity, prompting me to approach them.

Listening in, I heard my father say, "If he finds out that Bheeshma is my son, he'll target him."

Uncle JP responded, "That's why I introduced Bheeshma as my relative."

My father's tone grew more concerned as he continued, "Regardless, I don't want my son anywhere near Deva."

Uncle JP shared his observations, "He didn't just express an opinion; he gave a direct order. If we don't send Bheeshma there tomorrow, he'll come after me. I initially thought he'd let Bheeshma go with a warning, but he offered him a job instead."

Sensing the gravity of the situation, I moved closer to Bheeshma and took a seat beside him.

Looking at Bheeshma, I inquired, "So, what happened? What are they talking about?"

Bheeshma recounted, "Yesterday, before you came to pick me up to free us from the police, JP uncle called ACP Deva. He let us go, but he called me today to his bungalow and asked for my name. I said my name is Bheeshma, but he insisted on adding 'sir' to it. When I questioned how I could add 'sir' in front of my name, JP uncle explained that he was asking to be addressed as 'sir.' ACP Deva then asked me what I do, so I told him I'm a meme creator. He looked at me and said that I need to come to the police station for the next month to sign the register and do some work."

Hearing this, I looked at Bheeshma with a hint of disbelief. Sensing my gaze, Bheeshma responded, "What?"

I shook my head and replied, "Nothing."

After dinner, JP uncle joined us, adding a sense of solidarity to the evening meal. Later, in the solace of my room, I found refuge in my writing, engaging in heartfelt conversations with Anu and Raji over the phone, before succumbing to the embrace of sleep.

(Words count:5216)