Chapter- 1

 Raindrops pattered against the windowpane, their gentle rhythm echoing through the dimly lit room. The sound was a soothing lullaby, a stark contrast to the turmoil Radha faced from within while sitting on the windowsill.

Her slender fingers traced the water sliding down the glass, while her gaze was lost and distant, unaware of her surroundings. Her heart longed for the rain to wash away the ache within her; it yearned for time to go back and for everything to be set right, the way it was before.

She despised herself for not crying.

It's been two weeks since her parents passed away, since Ronit performed the mukahgani. The fire that burned that day took away everything she should have felt, but she hadn't been able to cry.

She could feel a big gaping hole in her heart, but she was still breathing, still gazing, and feeling everything. Yet, the sudden emptiness felt foreign and too incomprehensible to grasp.

When she should have been grieving for her parents' loss, the truth was she felt nothing from within.

That alone was enough reason for her to hide in her room rather than face her family. She felt ashamed of her own emotions and that they always came out at the wrong time and in the wrong place, but when she needed to cry, she wasn't able to.

Eleven-year-old Radha found herself standing in front of her father in his room, her heart pounding in her chest.

The afternoon sun peered through the windows, casting long shadows across the room, but all Radha could focus on was the tightness in her throat. Her fingers fidgeted with each other as she stood gazing at the floor, unable to meet her father's sharp gaze.

Raghav Dhanrajgir was a man who believed in perfection, not just as an ideal but as a necessity. He had built his life around precision and control. For him, making mistakes weren't just errors but cracks displaying one's weakness. Now, standing tall, his height towering over his daughter with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression revealed the irritation and disappointment he felt at that moment.

What he wanted was for his daughter to be the same: perfect!

"Do you have any explanation for the mess you created, Radhika?" Raghav's cold, stern voice, devoid of any warmth or empathy, cut through the silence like a whip.

"I—I am sorry, Dad," Radhika mumbled for the tenth time. "I—I didn't mean to."

She stammered, holding back the sob that was ready to escape her lips. She always stutter when she was nervous or anxious, but to her father, it all looked like just yet another drama of hers.

In fact, her mistake was small in her eyes but a mountain in her father's eyes. And she too agreed that she brought that upon herself.

Unable to control her clumsy self, she accidentally spilled water on his prized possession: the files he had asked for from the study earlier.

She should have been careful rather than acting like an idiot. Though it was an accident, in her father's world, accidents weren't allowed. There was no scope for mistakes.

She also made sure to follow the same rules, but her fumbling self-forgot such facts a few times like this.

Raghav's face hardened as he glared down at his daughter.

"You never mean to, Radhika," Raghav stated coldly, "But here we are again. Can't you do one thing right?"

Radhika flinched back as his voice raised an octave. The tears she was holding back spilled over.

In that moment, she wished her mother were there. But she knew that just like her father, Payal would also be furious with her for being careless.

"Sorry," Radhika whispered, wiping away tears with the back of her hand.

"Stop repeating that word again and again," Raghav shot back, annoyed.

He cradled Radha's face in one big hand, forcing the girl to look up and meet his gaze. "Your simple 'sorry' can't fix something you ruined."

The disappointment in his words stung Radha more than any harsh scolding ever could.

"You being clumsy brings nothing but trouble. You need to pull yourself together, Radhika. If you want to be respected, you need to be disciplined. And this..."

He roughly wiped away the remaining tears that streamed down her cheeks. "In the real world, if you cry like this at such small scolding, people will laugh at you, and no one will coddle you. They will only think of you as weak. Crying and gaining sympathy is not something Raghav Dhanrajgir wants his daughter to do. The world doesn't care for your feelings; only results matter."

He pulled back from her, "Clean up this mess and keep your gadgets in my room. You will get them when I say so. Clear?" he commanded in his stern voice.

Radhika nodded immediately.

As Raghav walked out, the tears she was holding back broke free, but she wiped them away harshly. She wasn't weak... she wasn't weak. She had to be the good girl. She had to be perfect.

She was fine.

She was fine.

She was fine... Radhika repeated it all like a mantra.

Memories rushed back into her mind, questions rising in her heart. She had been told that only weak people cried, and she too believed that.

But then, strong people too had emotions to feel, didn't they? Don't they let out the sorrows they feel? Was strength really about never shedding a tear?

As she sat blankly two weeks later, the reality hit her like a slap: her parents never loved her. The irony wasn't lost on her, and if she thought to ask her neighbors, they would also not deny the facts, as Payal and Raghav were oblivious about it.

But in the end, they were her parents, weren't they? They brought her into the world, provided her with food, a place to live, and a better environment than even some orphans are deprived of. How could she question them?

However, love? Her heart mocked back.

Was love really that important? Her brain fired back.

Radhika Dhanrajgir didn't know the meaning of love.

No matter what kind of relationship a person shares, whether between partners, between parents and children, or among siblings. Love is the most fundamental emotion to be felt, just like trust and respect in a bond.

Otherwise, the person is nothing but a stranger. But Radhika was deprived of the very emotion. Undoubtedly, she was pampered by her elder brothers, who loved her and adored her, always putting her first.

But the parents? Her father? Her mother? What about them?

The expectations she had from them were always shattered like glass scattered on the floor in a million pieces, a glass that can't be pieced back together, just like a heart.

If it's broken, it's broken. There is no mending it. But was it really the truth?

That was the question 15-year-old Radhika was searching for answers to. As each "But" in her life ended with a question mark rather than a full stop!

Mahir opened the door of Radha's room, entering with a food tray. He had been sitting by her side for the past two weeks, not leaving her alone even for a moment.

Arjun followed suit, and so did Abhishek, but with them, either Ronit or Sakshi stopped them, scolding them for no reason.

Eventually, Mahir too let things be. Arguing at this moment when Radha needed peace around her, he didn't wish to escalate any unnecessary topics.

Fortunately, she hadn't had another episode of a panic attack. Her medications were still ongoing, but according to the doctor, he was asked to be careful.

Any kind of stress or situation that could trigger anxiety is dangerous, as she was just fifteen. At an age when her emotional resilience was still developing, it was even more critical to avoid overwhelming situations.

Mahir set the plate on the nearby table and glanced at his sister. The blank look on her face worried him. He wanted her to cry, to let everything out of her system, but it seemed impossible. Bottling up emotions wasn't right, but what could he expect from Radha?

When her own parents instilled in her brain that the weaker ones were the only ones who cried. The emotions his sister used to feel were always judged, doubted, and burdened until she lost her usual self.

Mahir shook away his thoughts and nudged Radha gently. His priority should be his sister, and it will be. "Radha?"

Radha jumped in fear, startled out of her daze.

"It's me, Radha. Relax." Mahir held her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of assurance.

Radha simply nodded, leaning back against the wall. She was becoming a scaredy cat. Yet again, something her parents hated.

Mahir picked up the plate. He asked the chef to make Radha's favorite Rajma Rice. He had been doing that for the past several days, bringing her favorite food, hoping to see even the slightest emotion in her eyes that could calm his pounding heart.

But he also understood her situation. Things were not as simple as they seemed. Mixing the curry into the rice, he scooped a spoonful and brought it near Radha's mouth.

Radhika shook her head, "Bhook nahi hai, Bhaiya. (I'm not hungry, Bhaiya.)"

"Toda sa kha le, Radha. (Just a little, Radha.)" Mahir coaxed, "Please. For me."

Radhika reluctantly opened her mouth and took a bite. Even chewing and swallowing each morsel felt like an unbearable struggle, but she had to do it. If not for herself, then for her brothers.

She hated being a burden on anyone, whether her parents or her brothers. Though her brothers loved her unconditionally, she still wanted to be on her own.

Mahir could always read what his sister felt. Her hazel eyes were so expressive, giving away the emotions swirling in her heart.

On any other day, he would have shaken sense into her for thinking that way. But today, the situation demanded his understanding, his support, and above all, his love and care. And he was ready to give his all.

After a few bites, Radha lowered Mahir's hand as he brought yet another morsel near her lips.

"I can't, Bhaiya. Please..." She said quietly.

Mahir nodded, settling the plate down without protest. He made a mental note to feed her fruit salad within an hour. His sister needed to have the normal meal a fifteen-year-old requires. The lack of nutrition showed in her weak body and pale face.

When he consulted the doctor, he was advised to go slow with Radha, to find alternative solutions rather than impose or force her to eat. Otherwise, she would close herself off completely, something Mahir didn't want. So he was doing what he could.

Mahir set aside the glass of water and wrapped his arm around her slender shoulder, pulling her closer.

Radha leaned into his touch, wrapping her arms around him.

"Bhaiya?"

Mahir hummed in response, stroking her hair in a soothing manner.

"Maine kuch nahi kiya." Radha's voice was barely above a whisper.

Mahir closed his eyes against the tears that welled up in his eyes. "I know, Bacche. I trust you more than myself." His tone came out steady as he composed himself, repeating the same words he had been saying every day.

As silence stretched, Mahir gazed down at his sister. "Want to hear a story?"

Radha looked up at him and nodded.

"But not here," Mahir said, pulling back from the hug.

Radha frowned. "Then?"

"Come with me." Mahir rose to his feet, tugging at her hand.

From the last few days, his sister had refused to step out of her room. She had curled herself within the four walls of her room, seeking refuge in their safety, shielding herself from anything and everything. But he wanted to bring about a change, and he was determined to do so.

Radha shook her head. "I—I want to stay here. Tell me the story here."

Mahir shook his head firmly. "Come with me. We'll go to the terrace. How long will you stay locked inside your room? You need to unwind, Radha."

Radha looked away. She didn't wish to face her Bade Maa or Bade Papa. She didn't want to add to their pain. If her being confined to one room could make them feel at peace, then she was ready to do it. Not...

"Mom and Dad aren't home, Radha," Mahir interjected into her thoughts.

After her parents, it should be Sakshi and Ronit taking care of Radha, rather than keeping her at a distance or blaming her. They should have been providing her support, solace, and everything she was deprived of in these moments.

But the reality of what Radha was facing alone, only made him resent his parents. He would have tried to understand their grief if only they had been considerate enough towards Radha than being heartless.

Radha still gave it a second thought before reluctantly standing up. She needed to breathe. Maybe she could, once she heard the story her brother wanted to recite. She would immediately rush back into her room before the couple arrived back home.

                                  

Mahir opened the door to the terrace, only to see that the rain was still pouring down. Gently, he guided Radha under the shade in the corner, where a swing was placed, and they sat down.

The breeze passing by made Radha relax as she leaned back on the swing. Mahir gave it a light nudge with his foot, setting it into a soft rhythm.

Feeling his gaze, Radha tilted her head and looked at her brother, who was already staring at her.

"What happened?" Radha frowned.

Mahir shook his head. It simply hurt. Even after knowing what his sister had suffered for years, he was unable to help her, bound by so many limitations.

It hurt to feel helpless, to witness how a beautiful soul, so pure, like a delicate flower, was slowly withering before his eyes, with nothing he could do.

The past was beyond his control. But the present? That was in his hands.

Mahir was ready to be the light in the darkness that surrounded his sister. He was ready to give her something so precious that she had been deprived of.

Not out of pity, but out of love, for the bond they shared that was unshakable. His sister had suffered enough in the name of reputation, society, and high, fake expectations.

Today, her suffering would end. He would make sure she started her new beginnings. It wouldn't be easy, though. But Mahir Dhanrajgir was ready to give his all with patience, understanding, support, care, and love!

"Bhaiya?" Radha shook him gently, breaking his thoughts. "Story?" she asked, curiously.

She had always found comfort in his stories. His words held a magic of their own, transforming her mundane world into a place of wonders and possibilities.

Unlike typical fairy tales where princesses waited for a prince to rescue them, her brother's stories were different.

They were about princesses who fought their own battles, forged their own paths, and became strong and free from the gilded cages they had once been confined to. And if they faltered, a guardian angel was always there to hold them.

Radha always found herself lost in them, imagining the characters as reflections of herself. The chances of her making those stories a reality felt impossible. So living through them became her only solace.

Mahir smiled softly at the glimmer of interest in her eyes. He didn't need to prepare a story; he had seen and lived one.

"Alright. So this story is about a princess. A brave princess."

Radha lay down on the swing, resting her head on her brother's lap, and nodded eagerly.

Mahir leaned back, his hand gently massaging her head. "Once upon a time, there lived a princess named Adhrika. She was born in the lap of luxury, surrounded by a big joint family: her parents, her uncle, her aunt, her grandparents, and her brother. Yet one thing was always missing from her life. The usual smile that once adorned her face, the smile that used to light up even the darkest room, started to fade as she grew up.

When she was six years old, for the first time, she tasted the meaning of indifference. When her parents showered her brother with all their love, empathy, and adoration, they kept her at a distance, wanting her to behave rather than be cranky or throw tantrums. That little girl, once blooming like a delicate flower, began changing herself not for her own sake, but for her parents, in the desperate hope of gaining their love.

She worked hard for her exams. She stopped complaining. She stopped being the playful, carefree child she was growing into.

She became someone who always tried to please her parents, doing everything she thought could win their approval and a little bit of affection. Above all, she longed for their love!

But in the end, no matter what she tried, every effort seemed to be in vain. The more she tried to fit into their mold, the more distant they became. Their expectations held no end. As Adhrika grew, the walls around her heart thickened.

Once a fiery child, she now found herself caged in insecurities and in the fear of disappointing her parents with just one mishap. She became quiet and withdrawn.

No matter how much her brother tried to break through that cage, she never let anyone come close, burying herself in her studies and keeping her mind occupied. Still, deep down, she always wondered... What was her fault? Was something wrong with her that made her unworthy of her parents' love Despite coming first in her class, the competitions she participated in, her accomplishments, and her endless efforts were met with nothing but the emptiness she felt.

Like an outsider in her own family, even after becoming the perfect child her parents wanted her to be. Her parents' indifference deepened her loneliness."

Mahir looked down at Radha, seeing the tears swimming in her eyes. He knew what he was doing; he knew what he was aiming for. Gently, he stroked her hair as she turned and buried her face in his midriff.

"But then, as it's said, after a dark night comes the dawn," Mahir continued. "The first ray of light began to rise, piercing the horizon, and that day Adhrika's resolve broke. She was done being blamed. She was done playing the role of the happy family. She was done living up to expectations, especially those of parents who never truly cared about her, only about what they wanted.

In the quiet, warm light of early morning, Adhrika found herself standing on the balcony of her castle, gazing at the sky, ready to start a new chapter of her life.

A new beginning. A life. A moment she would choose for herself. And the first step towards it all was... Can you guess, Radha?" Mahir asked, gently cradling her face in his palm.

Radha shook her head, curiosity sparkling in her teary eyes.

Mahir wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes and smiled faintly, "She cried!"

His eyes locked on hers, "She let out the tears she had held inside for so long. Though she had been told that tears were a sign of weakness, she had always held herself back. But that day, she allowed herself to break free.

Adhrika cried for the pain she endured. For the love she never received. For the years she spent longing for her parents' warmth, even as they stood at a distance or were beside her but still weren't present, she cried, not in weakness, but in strength. She allowed herself to finally feel all the emotions buried deep within her heart.”

Mahir's voice softened, "That was the first step Adhrika took: to feel, to grieve, and to release everything she had kept locked away inside her. She no longer needed to hide behind a mask of perfection. She no longer needed to be alone in her world. She realized that it was okay to cry. It was okay to be vulnerable. It was okay to be herself, not perfect, not ideal, but real... her!

She let herself break free, without shame, without fear, without judgment, just understanding that it was okay to feel, to let go, and to allow space to heal."

Radha sat up abruptly, staring at the rain. Her heart ached for the princess who had suffered so much. But somewhere deep down, subconsciously, she felt herself comparing herself to Adhrika.

And her mind scoffed at her. She was a coward, wasn't she? She only knew how to create a mess and embarrass her parents. She only knew how to fail in her exams despite the sleepless nights she spent learning. She only knew how to disappoint the people around her.

The brave princess was much better than her at realizing it all and letting go. And here she was, the dumb Radhika Dhanrajgir: incapable, stupid, and a fool.

Without her consent, tears trickled down her cheeks.

Feeling the wetness, Radha dabbed her hand on her face and felt them. Her body froze for a beat before she stood up and walked out of the shade and into the rain.

The salty water mixed with the rain fell against her face. Mahir waited with bated breath. His foot tapped on the ground anxiously, hoping against hope that his words would elicit a much-needed reaction from his sister.

He wasn't a pro at handling situations like this; still, he was learning, step by step. For the past few months, he had persistently tried to break down the walls that guarded his sister. But every time, his efforts went in vain.

Firstly, Radha refused to respond. Secondly, it was due to his Chachu (Uncle) and Chachi (Aunt).

He felt ashamed of his own thoughts for considering that the couple was now out of his sister's life. But deep down, he knew the truth too. If they had been alive today, his sister wouldn't have been sitting here with him. She would have remained locked away in her dark room.

Eventually, he felt relieved that his sister had a life to live, and he would be there to help her experience it all.

Just as Mahir heard a sob escape Radha's mouth, he rushed toward her in the blink of an eye. The sobs that wrecked her body were a testament to everything she had endured.

But for the first time, she wasn't alone. As soon as Mahir pulled her into a hug, Radha felt warmth spreading through her cold, emotionless heart, even under the pouring rain and chilling breeze.

Radha wrapped her arms around her brother and let herself melt.

Mahir pulled her closer to his heart, letting her take it all out of her system. Her tears squeezed his heart, but he restrained himself from stopping her.

Strength didn't mean never falling; it meant rising even after being knocked down countless times. And for Mahir, his sister had the power to choose her path. All she needed was a little nudge, a little support, no matter how many times she faltered.

It was her life, her journey, and she jusr needs to believe in it, to live through it all.

As the rain began to taper off and the clouds parted, it marked the beginning of something new. The first step! A fresh start for Radhika Dhanrajgir, like a child being born into the world with endless possibilities ahead.

Free from the constraints of expectations. The journey would be hard, long, and filled with pebbles, but they were ready to embrace whatever came next.

Arjun pulled Abhishek into a side hug. They had come looking for their siblings, but what they witnessed moistened their eyes, too.

They both knew this was just the first step, yet the biggest and hardest one. But they also knew that, like a pillar of support, they would be there for their sister. Always.

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