Chapter- 26

Radha groaned, trying to blow away the strand of hair that stubbornly kept falling on her face. She opened her mouth to call for Shreya but stopped midway as she remembered Shreya had stepped out to attend an important call.

Just a few days ago, the doctor had removed her cast, finally freeing Radha from the plaster that had felt heavy, suffocating, and unbearably restrictive. However, her movements were still limited due to the lingering stiffness in her muscles and the pain that shot up whenever she put pressure on her leg. And under her overprotective brothers’ sharp hawk-like gaze, surviving felt like being monitored by three fully alert bodyguards who refused to blink.

However, Shreya was a godsend, an angel for Radha who always knew when to intervene, when the brothers went overboard, and Radha was grateful for her presence every single day.

Radha glanced at the door and back at the walking stick she was using to move around. She needed to dry her damp hair; she was sure her Bhaiya would take a while to bring her breakfast, and before he came, she would blow-dry her hair; otherwise, him seeing her moving around without any help would make him go bonkers.

Radha leaned forward, reaching out for the stick. Her fingers trembled slightly as she tightened her grip and slowly pushed herself to her feet. Every tiny movement felt like a battle between courage and pain. She took one step... then another. Her body wobbled, balance wavering as her injured leg protested sharply.

The room tilted for a moment, and Radha hurriedly caught the side table for support, her breath hitching in panic.

Just as she was about to fall back flat on the floor, a pair of hands held her protectively.

Radha clenched her eyes shut; she didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Dimag kharab ho gaya hai tera? (Have you lost your mind?)” Mahir snapped, his voice sharp.

Exhaling sharply, he guided her to the nearby chair first. He glared down at the girl who refused to meet his gaze. One second late, and he didn’t even wish to acknowledge what would have happened.

“Sorry!” Radha mumbled quietly. As the silence stretched, she kept her gaze lowered, already feeling lions standing on her head.

“Take your sorry and shove it down the drain,” Mahir hissed. He was done with his sister’s countless sorries.

Radha flinched at the anger and meekly looked up at Mahir. ”Vo mujhe bas aapne baal sukhane the. (I just wanted to dry my hair.) I didn’t think...”

“Toh humein awaz de deti Radha. (You could have called out for us, Radha.)” Arjun cut her off softly before she made their Bhaiya angrier with her explanation. ”What if you had fallen? What if you had hurt yourself? Haven’t you already been injured enough? The doctor has told you to rest, right? Rather than straining your leg, you should have asked us... at least we would have been around if something had gone wrong.”

Radha nodded. Another apology rested at the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it down, knowing her Bhaiya wouldn’t appreciate it.

She looked startled as Mahir plugged in the hairdryer and moved to stand behind her, gently gathering her damp hair in his hand. As the warm air brushed against her scalp, Radha blinked out of her trance and quickly held his wrist, stopping him.

“I’ll do it, Bhaiya. Aap rehne dijiye (please leave it),” she said softly.

Mahir didn’t respond immediately. He simply stared at her through the mirror, a steady, unreadable gaze that made Radha withdraw her hand from his. Ignoring her protests, he switched the dryer back on and continued drying her hair. Silence was the only thing he could offer his sister for now, knowing her state of mind; otherwise, had it been one of his brothers behaving this carelessly, Mahir was certain he would have blasted at them by now.

Arjun reached for Radha’s hand, squeezing it in assurance as her face fell. He could support her, make her understand too, but she was the one who needed to see that whatever they were doing, whatever their Bhaiya was doing, was love, not an obligation.

Truth be told, he and Abhi had faced an overly protective Papa bear in Mahir, even paranoid Mahir when they fell sick or got the slightest of injured. However, for Radha, it was the first time; she had fallen sick before, but this was different, so was her recklessness, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t blame either; he was just being there for them.

Radha froze, almost shocked, as Mahir picked up the comb from the dressing table once done with blow-drying her hair. The way he started to comb her hair with the delicacy of someone handling a thin glass strip that might snap with one wrong move shifted something deep within her.

She glanced at Arjun through the mirror, who stood beside Mahir now, helping him. Both her brothers were completely engrossed in making a perfect braid, their brows furrowed in concentration, hands working carefully and unhurried as if that was the most important thing in the world.

“Breakfast time!” Abhi exclaimed comically, entering the room with a food tray followed by Shreya.

“What’s going on here?” Abhi frowned.

“Can’t you see?” Arjun hissed, holding one section of the hair and gently twisting it onto the other that Mahir held steadily.

Abhi huffed. ”I was just asking. Why do you have to take her there just to give her a makeover? Yahin bed par bhi toh uske baal bana sakte the na? (You could’ve done her hair on the bed itself, right?) Now how will she move? Kal usse gyaan de rahe the (Just yesterday you were lecturing her) don’t move too much, don’t strain your leg, don’t do this, don’t do that, and now see what you both are doing, like seriously...” he trailed off as Shreya placed her palm over his mouth.

“Why do you want to make the lions roar so early in the morning, beta?” Shreya asked in a low whisper.

Abhi frowned and followed where Shreya subtly gestured.

Only to gulp visibly as he noticed the Lion King and his equally intimidating heir glaring at him, blazing eyes fixed in his direction. He would have been reduced to ashes by now if Radha hadn’t been sitting right there between them, acting as the only reason they were holding back.

Cautiously, he stepped behind Shreya, using her as a shield. ”I was just saying,” he mumbled softly. ”No hard feelings, brothers. I was just worried for Radha.”

Mahir shook his head and focused back on what he was doing, tying the rubber band at the end that Arjun passed. He was pissed off enough; his younger brother didn’t need to add fuel to the fire.

“Wait here. Let us arrange the bedsheet and then I will take you to bed,” He ordered firmly before turning away.

“Should I redo it?” Shreya asked, lowering her voice for only Radha to hear.

Radha looked at her reflection, the braid sitting slightly uneven, a few strands poking out rebelliously. In the mirror, she could see her brothers behind her, the three of them fixing her pillows, adjusting the blanket, straightening the bedsheet, and carefully placing the food tray with a surprisingly serious rhythm.

Radha shook her head. ”It’s perfect, di.” She whispered quietly.

Even if the loose strands tickled her neck, even if it wasn’t the perfectly neat and polished braid she usually made... for the first time, she let things be.

Because it felt good! What she felt and what she was witnessing felt like a sense of belonging she had never known.

Has anyone seen the sparkle in a child’s eyes when his father brings home his favorite toy after a tired day at work?

Or the quiet glow when a mother surprises her kid with his favorite dish?

That joy... that kind of comfort, innocence, and warmth, everything was something Radha was feeling in that moment. And she wished to cherish the moment to her heart’s content.

Once everything was arranged, Mahir helped Radha to bed without a word. His silence spoke volumes of his restrained anger that his siblings understood. Abhi tried to ask what went wrong, but Arjun signaled him not to. It was better to give their brother-sister space than goading them over the same thing.

“Bhaiya...” Radha’s words died up as Mahir tore a morsel of the paratha and brought it near her mouth.

She stared at him silently, waiting for him to scold her or at least nudge her, but he sat rigidly holding the morsel.

Reluctantly, she opened her mouth and took the bite Mahir fed her.

“What are you going to do after this?” Abhi asked, sitting beside Radha.

Radha shrugged casually, chewing her bite. She glanced at Mahir and then looked back at Abhi. ”Tujhe pata hai zyada gussa karne se safed baal jaldi aa jaate hain. (You know, getting too angry makes your hair turn white faster.)”

Abhi shook his head. His sister and her tactics to butter up their Bhaiya. These cute privileges were reserved only for her; he would’ve had to grovel ten times harder.

“Right... but may I ask why you’re giving this free unsolicited advice?” He asked, playing along.

Radha shrugged again. ”It’s not free unsolicited advice. I was stating facts. Zyada gussa sehat ke liye hanikarak hota hai. (Too much anger is harmful for health.)”

She held Mahir’s hand, stopping him as he tried to feed her another morsel. ”Gussa aaye toh daant lena chahiye (If you’re angry, you should just scold) rather than scaring your cute little sister with your intimidating eagle-like eyes.”

Mahir stared at his sister, the ice already reaching its peak point, ready to melt down, but he held back from giving in. It’s high time his stubborn sister understood the meaning of self-care; her recklessness could harm her and hurt her brothers too.

Radha pulled back, averting her gaze. That’s not something she expected. He always gave in; now what happened? She turned her face away as Mahir again tried to feed her. She wouldn’t eat until he talked to her.

“Radhika!” Mahir’s tone laced with warning.

Radha shook her head like a child, still not looking at him.

“Eat it Radha. You have to take your medicines too.” Arjun chimed in, taking his self-appointed role of savior very seriously.

Radha cringed at the mention of medicines. They tasted bitter, left an awful aftertaste, plus the annoying heaviness they caused in her throat. She didn’t want them. She shook her head again, stubborn as ever.

“Eat it quietly before Bhaiya sets you right,” Abhi chided lightly, whacking Radha on her shoulder.

“Ouch!” Radha hissed in pain.

“What happened?” Mahir’s eyes flashed with concern. ”Is it paining?”

He shot a glare at Abhi. ”Can’t you see she’s injured? Har baar masti mazaak karna zaroori hai, Abhi? (Is it necessary to joke around every single time, Abhi?) Ek ko apni injuries mein yahan wahan kudna hai aur ek hai ki wahi maar raha hai jahan lagi hai. (One has to keep jumping around despite being injured, and the other hits exactly where she’s hurt.) Both of you are impossible to handle.”

“But hai toh aapke hi bache na,” Abhi and Radha said in sync.

Arjun couldn’t help but chuckle. They just knew exactly how to make Mahir melt. He could see his Bhaiya close to losing the battle against his own stern expression.

Radha reached out, holding Abhi’s ear dramatically and looked at Mahir. ”Sorry... I promise I’ll be careful from now on.”

“Hold your ear, you idiot, not mine,” Abhi said, annoyed, pulling back.

“Arrey, I’m hurt; I would have to flood my hand...” Radha leaned back on the bedpost. ”I’m too lazy to do that.”

Mahir tried to glare her down but failed miserably. A faint smile crept onto his lips as he tapped Radha’s head lightly. ”Next time, be careful, clear?”

Radha nodded instantly.

The air that lightened shifted instantly as soon as Sakshi entered the room. Brothers stiffened. Radha looked down, unable to look at her Badi Maa. Shreya walked out, giving them space, knowing that an outsider wasn’t needed there. It wasn’t like Sakshi cared, but Shreya refused to make Mahir or the siblings feel embarrassed because of the lady.

Sakshi looked at Radha, placing the papers she brought with her on the bed. ”Once you feel fine... check over these.”

“What is it, Mom?” Arjun asked, confused.

Sakshi stared at Radha. She had waited for two long weeks, pulling a few strings, using a few connections, ensuring the paperwork was processed faster than usual. All she wanted was to throw the girl out, and she would.

“Boarding school acceptance letter.” She glanced at her sons. ”Your sister has been accepted at one of the most prestigious school in Chennai.”

“I told you last time, Mom. Radha kahi nahi jaayegi. (Radha is not going anywhere.)” Mahir’s voice boomed through the room as he rose to his feet, facing Sakshi.

“How could you do that, Mom?” Arjun snapped, frustrated. ”Can’t you see her sufferings? Don’t you have a heart?”

“They don’t, Bhaiyu,” Abhi said. ”You can see the proofs.”

“Are the three of you done?!” Sakshi hissed angrily. ”Mujhe itna kuch keh rahe ho, ek baar apni bhen se bhi baat kar lo. Jiske liye itna lad rahe ho, jiske liye apni hi maa ke saath badtameezi kar rahe ho. Usse pooch ke hi kiya hai maine yeh. (You’re saying so much to me; at least talk to your sister once. The one you’re fighting for, the one because of whom you’re being disrespectful to your own mother. I did this only after asking her.) She knew about this. Radhika herself signed the admission form.”

The brothers froze and snapped their eyes toward Radha in perfect sync.

Radha looked on as hurt flashed in their eyes; the disbelief was clearly palpable. Her gaze lowered on its own accord. As Arjun and Abhi walked away, her throat dried up; she tried to stop them, but words failed her.

Meekly, she looked up at Mahir. The tense shoulder and silence gave away much more than she had ever faced. He was livid and, above all, hurt, just like the other two, but her Bhaiya was disappointed too, and that ripped at Radha’s heart.

Just as Mahir turned to leave, Radha held his wrist, stopping him.

“Bhaiya, kuch bologe nahi? (Aren’t you going to say anything?)”

“Tera decision hai, Radha. Tune kuch soch samajh kar hi liya hoga. (It’s your decision, Radha. I’m sure you must have thought through before taking it,)” Mahir replied calmly. ”Ab tu itni badi toh ho gayi hai ki tujhe apni zindagi ke faisle lene se pehle apne bhai se puchne ki zarurat nhi hai. (“You’ve grown up so much now that you don’t feel the need to ask your brother before making decisions about your own life.)”

“Bhaiya, please aisa nahi hai....(Its not like that.)” Radha trailed off as Mahir gently pulled back and walked away. For the first time in months, since her parents’ death,

Radha blinked away the tears that fogged her eyes, but they trickled down. For the first time, she felt a kind of ache that she hadn’t even felt when her own parents passed away. What would she do now?

✨✨✨

Mahir walked towards his father’s study. Since the day they had come home from the hospital, he hadn’t seen his father. As far as Mahir knew, Ronit Dhanrajgir believed in showing power, not slipping into shadows like a man afraid of his own reflection. So, what changed?

Mahir was done watching his sister suffer for so many years. He was done being a silent spectator and was willing to take matters into his own hands. Sometimes, physical pain hurt is less than that of suffering from within. The mental and emotional pain, the suffering that can break even the strongest person, and the irony of the situation was that he could see his sister breaking, shattering like a mirror and becoming something he didn’t wish for her to see.

When you teach a child fear, doubt, and submission rather than giving them the courage to face challenges, confidence, and resilience, then they grow timid, scared, and self-questioning, something Radha had slowly become.

She was ready to step back rather than break the walls her parents had built around her, the invisible cage, and Mahir refused to let his sister shrink herself to fit inside it. He entered the room, willing to have the conversation that had been left hanging between them like an unspoken verdict. Today, he was determined to make final decisions.

Ronit stood near the window, his back facing Mahir, shoulders stiff, hands clenched tightly around the window sill.

“Dad,” Mahir called out steadily.

“How is everything now?” Ronit asked without turning.

Mahir frowned. There it was, the uncertainty in his father’s tone, something he had never heard before. Ronit Dhanrajgir never hesitated; he commanded, he decided, he even dismissed, but today... was different.

“We need to talk, Dad,” Mahir said, brushing aside the unfamiliar feeling. He was thinking too much.

Ronit finally turned to face his son. However, the usual authority and unshakeable dominance were missing from his eyes, a stark contrast to the hollowness Mahir had grown used to seeing.

“Even I want to talk to you,” Ronit’s voice was measured yet unusually restrained. ”Is Radhika fine now?”

“She is fine now,” Mahir replied evenly. “I’m there to take care of her. I came here to talk to you about this...” He placed the papers his mother gave to Radha earlier.

“We talked about this, Dad,” Mahir continued. ”I’m Radha’s legal guardian now. I’ll take care of her; I’ll be the one making the decisions that are needed for her well-being. No one will interfere in that. You gave me your word. Then how did Mom think that she could manipulate Radha like this? How can you, like always, stay quiet despite seeing how wrong Mom is? Don’t you care, Dad? Or are you finally showing me that I’m not your son, so my words don’t hold value anymore...”

“MAHIR!” Ronit’s voice boomed, shaking the room. His eyes blazed with fury as he looked at Mahir.

“How dare you question my love for you?” Ronit’s voice rose an octave, ”You are not my son; that is the truth. But since the day I brought you into this house, I have treated you like my own child. I have loved you more than Arjun and Abhi. You aren’t just a promise to Vikram that I have to fulfill. You are my first child, and no one can change that... no one has the right to question my love for you. Not even the son I chose with my heart before destiny gave me the others.”

Mahir smiled sadly; how could just a few words feel so overwhelming yet so heart-wrenching at the same time? ”Kitni ajeeb baat hai na, Dad. (Isn’t it strange, Dad?) A father who has an abundance of love to shower turns away from the only daughter of his family. We brothers... received everything we ever wanted. We should be happy, right? But the sad part is... we have watched our sister crave the very things that were given to us so freely. And now we don’t even know whether it’s a blessing... or a curse.”

There it was, the shift, the truth in those words. A point from where there was no return, no way to change anything. Ronit sighed, walking up to the desk. Mahir’s words gave him a feeling of having a fire bath. A father’s love can never be a curse for his son, but it had become just that for him.

“Mahir...” He said quietly, pushing aside the ache in his heart, ”I can’t offer you anything, son... An apology or a justification that comes after a lifetime of silence and damage doesn’t hold any weight in the end. So all I can do is ask you to leave things as they are.”

Mahir looked away, hurt. What was he expecting from his father anyway?

“I don’t want you to dig into Sakshi’s decision,” Ronit added gently. ”She was wrong, and I have talked to her. She won’t interfere in Radhika’s life from now on. Just leave things as they are and focus on Radhika.”

Mahir looked at his father in disbelief. ”Mom ne jo kaha, uski wajah se Radha ghar chhod kar gayi. (Because of what Mom said, Radha left the house.) Mom pushed her so hard that my sister was ready to give up on herself. She pushed her so hard that Radha signed away the boarding school papers. Rather than finding a way out and confronting what has happened, you again want me to pretend nothing happened? You again want me to forget that I was so close to losing my sister?”

“Yes!” Ronit’s voice wavered ever so slightly. ”Because that’s how family works. If you have to live under the same roof, sometimes it’s better to avoid the conversation and move on.”

“That’s not something you taught me, Dad,” Mahir said, his voice firm. ”You taught me that family means unity. Even if someone is doing something wrong, you don’t cover it up and move on... you communicate and find solutions, mending the issues rather than leaving cracks in the foundation to widen with time. How did your own teachings, your own words, lose their meaning so suddenly?”

Ronit looked away. His whole life had shifted with just a few words from his wife. He was standing in a moment where he questioned everything, even his own existence. Only he knew how tightly he was holding himself together, how desperately he was stopping himself from falling apart.

He looked at Mahir. ”Fine! So what is your solution?”

“I’m leaving with Radha,” Mahir declared sharply.

“And you think she will ever agree?” Ronit countered squarely.

Mahir clenched his fist. All he wanted to do was bang his hand on the wall and yell in frustration. Of course, Radha would never agree to leave the house with him; she would never let him move away from his parents just because of herself. No matter how much he said, and that is what always held him back. His sister’s decision mattered to him but pained him equally.

Ronit walked up to his son. Gently, he placed his hand on Mahir’s shoulder. ”I know her answer, and so do you. Let’s make peace with it, beta. I know I have made many mistakes. I won’t ask you to forgive me for any. Sakshi and I’ll never come in between your way. Do whatever you want; deal with your siblings however you want. We will never interfere.”

Mahir stared at his father and back at the hand that rested on his shoulder in assurance and silent promise. No matter how much he craved to lean and bask in his father’s warmth or even believe those words, he stepped back. He had learned the lesson the hard way: to never let his guard down, no matter if it was his own father standing before him.

“What do you want from me in return?” He asked straightforwardly.

Ronit clearly noticed the change but didn’t utter a word; he stepped back and picked up the file from the table, handing it to Mahir. ”Read them and sign them.”

Mahir frowned. He opened the file and went through it page after page. Whatever he read shocked him; color drained from his face as he looked at Ronit, stunned.

“You can’t do this, Dad,” he protested immediately. ”This is wrong and unfair.”

Ronit shook his head. ”You deserve it, son, and there is nothing wrong with you being my heir. I want you to take over the Dhanrajgir Empire. With my health worsening each day, I’m unable to do anything. You came back midway from Singapore after meeting the clients just once, and they agreed to sign the deal. They are the most stubborn clients of ours, but your work is the proof that no one is better than you at handling our business.”

Mahir shook his head, placing the file back on the table. ”I think you should ask Arjun too, even Abhi and Radha. This is a very big decision...”

“And I have thought through it, Mahir.” Ronit’s tone firmed. ”The answer is before you. Arjun is a lawyer and is earning for himself. Abhi and Radha are minors. Even if, in the future, anything goes wrong, you will hold the power to share how much and when; that will be your decision to make. In return, I told you... Me and Sakshi will stay out of your sibling’s way. You can make decisions for them however you want for their betterment.”

Mahir exhaled sharply. He had never thought his father would place such a burden in his hands.

If he agreed, his siblings would be free. Abhi would be free from their mother’s constant pressure of studies, even from the suffocating expectations that never allowed him to breathe as a child. Radha would be free from taunts and the silent isolation she had been forced to accept as normal. And Arjun would finally be able to focus on his work without worrying about what storm might erupt at home next.

The offer was temptingly strategic, almost like a sacrifice disguised as protection, yet he hesitated. Not for himself, but for his siblings. The Dhanrajgir Empire under his name... No. That seemed impossible. He didn’t want money or power to be the chain that bound his siblings to silence. More than him, his siblings deserved that share, or better yet, they all deserved it equally, not just him. He was in a fix.

“I need time to think,” Mahir said quietly, ”I will let you know my final answer soon.” Saying this, he turned to leave.

“You need Radhika’s peace, and I want mine, son,” Ronit murmured, stopping him. ”I might sound like a villain in your story, but I hope you will make the right decision.”

Mahir walked away quietly. The ball was in his court, a term used for outsiders. The irony was such that he had to use it for a man whom he called ‘Dad’ and had once worshipped before God. What a cruel twist of fate.

 

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