Chapter- 30

Radha sat on the kitchen counter, her feet dangling carelessly, her gaze followed her bhaiya, who moved around the kitchen preparing paneer cheese sandwiches for her. He was making them not only because she Something she asked for, not just because she was hungry but also because, he had slipped into his silence mode. To break the ice, she had asked him to make her favorite sandwiches while she tried to figure out how to broach the topic. The car ride earlier had been silent; her bhaiyu had gone back to the office, leaving her behind to deal with their bhaiya alone.

Radha knew Mahir wasn’t angry at her; neither was he disappointed; he was simply upset that she didn’t share with him what was happening in school despite promising him that she would. Radha had broken so many promises she once gave to her brother that it had become a norm for her.

It wasn’t like she liked breaking her promises; it’s just that she always prioritized her parents, wanting to crave love from them, and always ended up hurting her brothers, though none of them said anything, understanding her emotions. Yet, at times like this, when you realize that your sister is getting bullied for a month, suffering alone rather than asking for help, it hurts.

“Mein aapko batane wali thi, Bhaiya. (I was going to tell you, Bhaiya.)” Radha’s tone was soft and hesitant, ”I didn’t mean to hide it from you. Bas mujhe samajh nahi aa raha tha kaise baat doon.(I just didn’t knew how to tell you.)”

Mahir set aside the spoon and spun around, giving his undivided attention to his sister.

Radha looked down, playing with her hoodie sleeves, ”I told Mumma... She thought I was lying and distracting myself from my studies as I was scoring low in my exams at that time. Aur Dad... Unke samane toh baat karne ke bhi himmat he nahi hoti thi. (And Dad... I didn’t even have the courage to talk in front of him.) So I-I just let things be. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I didn’t share it with you. It wasn’t even a big deal. I wasn’t the daily target, mahine mein bas paanch-chah baar hi aisa kuch hota tha. (It was just a few times in a month, around five or six times.) when Abhi wasn’t on my side, otherwise it didn’t matter...”

“It matters, Radha.” Mahir cut her off gently, stepping forward and lifting her chin. ”Even the tiniest bite from an ant matters to me. Mujhe pehle pareshan nahi karna chahti thi isliye nhi bataya, (You didn’t want to trouble me earlier,) fine, but you should have told me what happened few weeks ago. Mein yaha nahi tha... Toh Arjun ya Abhi ko baatati. Kisi se help maanga, koi weak nahi banata, Radha. (I wasn’t here... So you should have talked to Arjun or Abhi. Asking for help doesn’t make you weak, Radha.) It just makes us human. Aur bhai hote kis liye hai? Apni bhen ki raksha karne ke liye, apni bhen ki dhal banne ke liye, uska saath dene ke liye. Aapne bhaiyon se baat karne mein kaisi hichkichahat baache? (And what are brothers for? To protect their sister, to be her shield, to support her. So why this hesitation in talking to your own brothers?)”

Radha leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder, ”I am sorry.”

Mahir shook his head, creasing her hair in a soothing manner, ”Don’t be. I don’t want my child to apologize for every little thing. Sorry bolna acchi baat hai par tab jab aapne koi galti ki ho. (Saying sorry is a good thing, but only when you’ve made a mistake.) If you keep apologizing for everything, people will start taking you for granted. You should hold your ground when you have done nothing wrong, rather than retreating.”

Radha bobbed her head. She was so used to apologizing after every small issue that it had become her habit now.

Mahir cradled her face in his palm, ”Next time, if anything happens, I want you to tell me. If you can’t come to me, you have your other two brothers, but don’t hide your feelings from yourself like they don’t matter. You matter to me the most, Radha. There’s no other way to it. Clear?”

“Ji! (Yes)” Radha mumbled.

“Come on now, I am done with my lectures. Try this and tell me how it tastes.” Mahir picked up the sandwich and fed her.

Truth be told, he was still upset with the way Radha shrugged off her feelings, belittling herself every time, he just couldn’t bear to see that. But he also understood that he couldn’t force self-love upon her; tiny steps were what he reminded himself. Soon, his sister would start valuing herself, and he would make sure of that.

“Yaha hai tu? (Here you are!)” Abhi’s voice boomed in the kitchen, startling the siblings.

Radha winced; the angry bear wouldn’t spare her now. From the looks of it, it was obvious that he knew everything.

Abhi stepped in furious, his eyes throwing daggers at his sister. He heard the gossip going on in the school; the queen bees of his class were rusticated, and even Professor Rao was suspended for three weeks. Radhika Dhanrajgir finally got her justice was the latest talk of the town in school. The details he received after digging a little angered him like never before.

His sister was supposed to come to him; they went to the same school, they sat together in recess, even in assembly they knew where they were, Radha knew about his class timetable... everything. Yet, for a month, his sister chose to suffer rather than turning to him with her issues. Something that was unacceptable to Abhishek.

“Bhaiya, aap aaj beech mein nahi bulenge. (You won’t interfere in this, bhaiya.)” Abhi hissed. He didn’t want his brother to side with Radha when she was the one who was wrong.

Mahir silently placed the plate he served for Radha into Abhi’s hand, ”Now that you are here, make sure your sister eats it all. She is hungry. I have a meeting.” Saying this, he walked away.

He was least interested in becoming collateral damage between the two who always defended each other no matter how serious the situation was. He trusted them to sort it out on their own, like always.

Abhi exhaled sharply; he glared at his sister, who sat there playing with the thread of her hoodie, staring at the floor. Setting aside his anger, he brought the sandwich near her mouth. She was hungry; his anger could wait a little bit.

Radha blinked, startled. She looked at the sandwich and then back at Abhi, displaying the best puppy-eye look she could muster. She hopped down off the counter. ”Pehle daat le yaar, nahi toh yeh mere gale ke neeche bhi nahi jayega. (First scold me, or else this won’t even go down my throat.)”

Abhi lowered his hand, placing the sandwich back on the plate. ”Tujhe daat ke, tujh par gussa karne se kuch hoga? Tu karegi wahi jo tujhe karna hai. (What will my scolding do to you? At the end, you will do what you want.) You will choose hiding instead of telling me what went wrong. We are friends first; yeh baat hui thi humari har saal Rakhi ke din, hum dono ek dusre ko friendship band baandhte hai, (This was the promise we made. Every month on Rakhi, we tie a friendship band around each other.) One month apart, but we are friends first, then siblings. Friends that are...”

“Loyal, supportive, and with no secrets.” Radha completed for him. It was their bond promise that they shared over the months, making them not just siblings but friends in the truest sense.

She reached out, holding his hands in hers. ”Dekh, ab jo hona tha, ho gaya. I know I was wrong; mujhe sabko bata dena chaiye tha... (Look, what’s done is done. I know I was wrong; I should have told everyone...) but... let’s just say I never knew how to ask for help. But just now, bhaiya told me that no matter what happens, I should come to you all first and share. And I promise I will. Please iss baar ke liye maaf kar de apni bhen ko. (Please forgive your sister this time.)”

Abhi looked away. She promised the same every time but did the opposite. Even though he understood where his sister was coming from, his heart refused to understand it. It stung that his sister couldn’t come to them with her deepest fears and struggles, hiding everything inside instead of leaning on them for support.

Radha cutely held her ears. ”Please Bhai, maaf kar dijiye. (Please, Bhai, forgive me.)”

Abhi lowered her hands immediately. ”Yeh sabh nautanki tu bhaiya aur bhaiyu ke samne hi kiya kar. Next time tune mujhse kuch bhi chhupaaya na toh... (Keep this drama for bhaiya and bhaiyu. Next time if you hide anything from me...)”

“Toh tu meri saari chocolates le lena. (Then you can take all my chocolates.)” Radha said before he could threaten her with something weird. Better safe than sorry!

Abhi shook his head and fed her the sandwich. ”If I would have known earlier, I would have bashed those girls properly.”

Radha whacked him on the shoulder hard. ”Ho gaya hai tum sab ko? Waha school mein bhaiya aur bhaiyu Riya par haath uthne wale the aur yaha tu bhi... (Have you guys lost it? Back at school, bhaiya and bhaiyu were about to hit Riya, and here you are too...) Did you guys perhaps forget that she is a girl?”

“Gender doesn’t give her the right to bully my sister and get away with it.” Abhi shot back, ”I don’t care...”

“But I care, Abhi.” Radha’s tone softened.

She liked the protective stance; no one was ever so protective of her except for her brothers. The feeling of it was comforting but, ”Everyone who sees my brother should look at them with respect. Mahir Dhanrajgir is a legendary rockstar, Arjun Dhanrajgir is a respectable lawyer, and you... Abhishek Dhanrajgir, a young man in the making. I want people to see you as the gentleman you are. I accept gender doesn’t give anyone the right to disrespect others, but I don’t want my brothers to choose a way that is disrespectful. My brothers deserve to be seen with admiration.”

Abhi sighed, joining his hands and bowing his head dramatically. ”Haan meri maa, samajh gaya. Itna gyaan dene ki zaroorat nahi hai. (Yes, my lord, I understood. No need to give me a lecture.)”

Radha rolled her eyes. ”Zyada drama mat kar. Next time tune kuch bhi ulta sidha bola toh... toh haan, teri saare video games phek dungi. Samjha? (Don’t overdo it. Next time you say anything stupid, I will throw away all your video games. Got it?)”

Abhi gasped dramatically, placing his hand on his chest, ”Haww! Itna bada atyachar karegi apne bhai par? Jaise tu teri paintings ke bina nahi reh sakti, waise hi main mere games ke bina nahi reh sakta. Accha lagega tujhe mujhe mere video games ke liye matam manate  dekh? (What? You will do such a big injustice to your brother? Just like you can’t live without your paintings, I can’t live without my games. Would you feel happy after seeing me mourning for my video games?)”

Radha nodded. ”A lot. I will snap the pic and frame it in my room, a crying Abhi. It’ll be quite laughable for me when I’m sad.”

“That was rude.”

Radha chuckled. She didn’t care. ”Btw...” her words died down in her throat, her smile swiping off as Ronit walked into the kitchen.

Abhi turned with a frown only to find his father standing at the door. The earlier rumor turned into resentment and anger. He picked up the plate from the counter and held his sister’s hand, guiding her out. He didn’t want Radha to ponder on something that wasn’t important.

Radha glanced at Ronit before looking away, following Abhi’s lead. Something felt off to her. A man who prided himself on the authority now carried dull eyes; his shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of something unbearable.

Was it the effect of her brothers supporting her and ignoring Ronit, or was it something else? She didn’t understand and hoped it was the better one. No matter what they did to her, she couldn’t bring herself to resent her bade papa. She never would be.

Radha looked on as Mahir parked the car in the parking lot of Khurana Hospital. It was D-Day. Her bhaiya had asked her to get ready and taken her out just to bring her here. She knew why she was there; she had herself agreed for therapy.

Despite everything starting to feel normal again, the urge to give up and hide in the darkness forever hadn’t faded yet. She still blamed herself for many things that even her brothers were unaware of. Asking for help doesn’t mean you are weak; it just makes us human. Her bhaiya had told her that in the afternoon, and now she was ready to accept it.

Her trembling hands reached to unbuckle the seat belt. She had to do it for herself, for her brothers, no matter how hard it was for her to even step down from the car.

Suddenly, it felt like she was chained to a hundred-kilogram weight that refused to let her move forward. With her eyes open, she could see a shadow approaching her from the side, trying to wrap itself around her like a dark fog.

But before it could touch her, Radha felt a hand on hers, grounding her back to reality.

“Radha...” Mahir called out softly, squeezing her hand in reassurance.

Radha blinked rapidly, her eyes slowly focusing back. She tilted her head and looked at her bhaiya, her eyes glancing at the hand holding hers.

Subconsciously, her grip tightened around Mahir’s hand. ”I-I...” Her words died in her throat. What was she feeling? Something familiar yet so unfamiliar. Numb but alive and moving.

“I am here, bacche,” Mahir reassured, ”Keep holding my hand. I won’t let go until you want me to.”

Radha swallowed hard, nodding her head. Mahir opened the door for her, and she got out, reaching to hold his hand. She wasn’t a kid anymore, but she knew each step she might take from here would be the hardest. It would go against her parents’ thoughts, their rules, their beliefs. But she was still going to meet a doctor today. Who, how, what... Radha didn’t know anything.

Mahir guided his sister to the receptionist. His fingers curled around her palm in assurance and a silent promise. He took out a small card from his pocket, showing it to the nurse.

“The seminar will start soon,” The nurse replied kindly after seeing his name. ”You can go that way.” She pointed toward the door down the corridor.

Mahir nodded and followed the direction. He glanced at his sister. ”Do you want to ask something, Radha?”

Radha shook her head. ”We are going to meet the doctor, right?”

Mahir nodded. ”Yes, but before that, I want you to go somewhere else with me. Agar accha nahi laga toh mujhe kehna,(If you don’t like it, tell me) we will walk out. Okay?”

Radha nodded wordlessly. It felt good to have options instead of being ordered to endure and suffer silently. Her bhaiya was giving her something so special, so easily; she didn’t even know if he realized what his gestures were doing to her or not.

Mahir pushed the door open; the muffled voices in the hall were barely audible. It was a seminar for mental health awareness, helping those suffering with a single quote.

‘When the world feels heavy, don’t run from it, just lean on the shoulder you trust the most and ask for help. Sometimes the greatest strength a person shows is by asking, not enduring.’

Mahir found a concerned seat in the room, away from the crowd. He pulled the chair for his sister. He had already booked the table for them, in the VIP seating.

Radha took her seat, looking around. Some seemed to be reporters with mics and cameras set up. A few were talking, some even laughing, and a few simply sat there blankly, looking around like her.

She looked at her bhaiya and opened her mouth to ask where they were there when the door near the stage opened abruptly, and... A man in his late twenties walked onto the stage, simply dressed in a tall, well-fitted charcoal suit with no flashy accessories, just a watch and calm confidence.

Heads turned, and the room fell silent. Those who stood sat down quietly, adjusting themselves as the man picked up the mic.

“Hi. I am Ajay Khurana,” he smiled lightly, ”and before you all Google me, yes, I am the same person who owns this small hospital and is again present here to bore you with my speech, but I will try to make it interesting. I promise.”

Soft laughter spread across the hall.

A boy a few months older than her raised his hand almost immediately. ”Dr. Khurana… every month you conduct these seminars and help many of us. But we never understood the reason. Like others… do you also think we are crazy?”

Ajay chuckled softly, ”Crazy? Well, yes. You are all crazy. Including me. We are crazy in our own certain ways. But what kind of crazy are you talking about? If you can elaborate, young man?”

The boy sighed. ”The one who needs help... and the one who faces mental issues, Doc. If I say it in your language… the one who needs therapy.”

Ajay’s smile softened. ”The one who needs help?” he repeated calmly. ”Well, everyone needs help. For studies, there are teachers. In companies, there are managers to guide employees. Police help citizens. Parents help children. Friends help friends. In every direction you look, someone is helping someone without feeling ashamed of the word ‘help’.”

He paused, letting the words sink in, ”If you have a heart problem and go to a cardiologist, is that a big deal? No. If you break a bone and go to an orthopedic doctor, no one makes an issue out of it. Then if you are struggling with your thoughts, anxiety, panic, trauma, and you go to a psychologist… how does that suddenly make you ‘mental’ or ‘dumb’?”

The hall fell quiet. His words echoed in the stillness, settling over the crowd like a soft blanket, inviting reflection.

“In life,” he continued, “everyone faces something. Just because you cannot see a wound doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. And maybe if I were a gynecologist or a surgeon, you all would feel more comfortable sharing your suffering. But because I deal with the mind, you sit stiff in seminars like this”

Another person stood up. ”What’s your definition of crazy, Doc? Why do we need therapy if we haven’t lost our brains yet? Every month you do a seminar and lecture us. Are you just fond of that? Or do you simply like judging people?”

Ajay laughed softly. ”I have better things to be fond of, kiddo. For now, I am looking for a wife to get out of this single bachelor status,” he shrugged playfully. “But that’s my personal issue.”

Another wave of laughter erupted in the room. To those who didn’t know Ajay and had just heard about his cold and stoic demeanor, he didn’t seem any of it. For a fact, he was friendly, open, and genuine. The warmth in his voice and the ease with which he interacted made him seem far more approachable than anyone could have anticipated.

“Now on a serious note.” Ajay walked across the stage slowly. ”When you look at a rose, you admire its fragrance, its beauty, its petals, the stem, and leaves that complete it. Everything that makes it whole. Including the thorns.”

He raised his brow. ”Without thorns, the rose would be defenseless. Without a stem, it would be unstable. Without leaves, it would be unable to grow properly. To make something beautiful in its own way, you have to accept all parts of it. The pleasant fragrance that can make your day and also the sharp thorns that can make you bleed.”

He tapped his temple lightly. ”Just like our brain. There is nothing wrong with us. But yes... sometimes there are hiccups on the path. Hesitations. Fears. Reluctance. Emotional bruises. Suppressed grief. Expectations that suffocate us. If we have someone to talk to and clear our mind... can’t we accept that?”

He looked across the hall. ”After all, just like the other organs in our system, the brain is equally important. Or else we will be like a body functioning without direction. Is that even fair? To live like a machine surviving but not truly living after being born human, after ages of evolution?”

The room turned silent, everyone listening intently, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Each person seemed to reflect on the profound simplicity of the message, the truth that was so often ignored but so deeply necessary.

“The first thing we need to do is normalize mental health,” Ajay continued, ”Normalize it and talk freely about it rather than whispering. If you have a fever, you say it loudly. If you have any other health issue, you say it clearly. Then what’s wrong with saying that you are feeling overwhelmed… anxious… lost… numb… broken in your mind?”

His voice softened. ”Once we start accepting what we are suffering from within and start healing ourselves, what the world thinks will not matter. Because healing is not weakness. Seeking help is not failure.”

He smiled faintly. ”It is courage.”

The room was filled with a quiet reverence, and just like everyone, in the corner of the room sat Radha, who felt something shift within her.

The session continued. The media asked questions, and a few audience members also asked questions; some were nervous, some bold, and some defensive. Ajay answered each one patiently. The hall echoed with discussions about mental health, acceptance, and the importance of vulnerability.

But everything blurred. The fans were still rotating, chairs scraping against the floor. Someone behind coughed. Yet to Radha, all of it faded.

Everything was lost to her except what she had just heard. If you have a fever, you say it loudly… then what’s wrong with saying you feel overwhelmed in your mind? Overwhelmed. Was that what she had been feeling? Her throat felt dry.

Her parents’ voices echoed faintly in her head...

“Strong people don’t cry.”
“Control yourself. You can’t behave like this.”
“Log kya kahenge? (What will people say?)”
“I can’t believe you are my daughter.”

But then another memory surfaced...

A month back, her crying uncontrollably in her Bhaiya’s arms.
The pastries her Bhaiyu brought for her.
The small banters between her and Abhi.

If crying was weakness… then why had she felt lighter that day? If asking for help was shameful… then why had her insomnia disappeared when her brothers slept on the floor beside her? Just being present in the same space without imposing.

Radha’s chest tightened. She had been so afraid of breaking her parents’ rules… that she never questioned whether those rules were breaking her or making a version of her that she didn’t know existed.

Ajay’s voice floated back into her hearing. ”Healing begins the day you stop pretending.”

Radha swallowed hard. She had been doing just that, hadn’t she? Pretending she didn’t miss something she never received. Pretending she wasn’t scared of disappointing people who weren’t even here anymore. Pretending she didn’t want to lean into the warmth her brothers were offering.

Her eyes stung, not from sadness or guilt, but for the first time at realization. She looked at her hand. Her Bhaiya was still holding onto hers; he had promised her he wouldn’t let go until she wanted him to.

Slowly, one by one, her fingers opened. Her grip loosened on his grasp. For the first time, she didn’t feel accused, judged, or weak. She felt… seen, supported, understood, and that’s what all that mattered!

 

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