Chapter- 24

Ekansh knocked on Ekta’s room before entering. It had been a week since Virendra was discharged from the hospital. As per the doctor’s instructions, he was asked to take complete rest and focus on his recovery. If the medication worked and his body responded positively, there would be no need for surgery. The withdrawal had severely weakened and damaged his system temporarily. Ekansh and Eshita were making sure to stay by their father’s side without daring to leave him alone.

Their hurt had subsided, but not their fears. They were still on edge, even if Virendra breathed wrong, always on high alert after everything that had happened.

Ekansh froze at the threshold as he pushed open the door. Ekta sat before the mirror dressed in her new uniform for school. He smiled faintly while walking inside. The way she sat stiff, yet to acknowledge his presence, worried him.

“Ready for the big day?” he asked softly, standing behind her.

When he first found her, she barely knew how to speak without fear, let alone return to a normal life. For the first few years, it was hard to gain her trust. Slowly, when they began talking in small conversations, he was still apprehensive and never forced school on her. Instead, he taught her at home in small, careful steps, basic reading, writing, and mathematics. By the time she turned fourteen, he realized she was learning far faster than he had expected.

Wanting to give her a proper education without dragging out the past she refused to disclose, he enrolled her through the National Institute of Open Schooling under a private learning program in Shimla.

Since open schooling allowed flexible admissions for students with interrupted education and limited documentation, her lack of school certificates did not become a barrier. He provided basic identity papers through legal procedures while keeping her story protected. Over the next two years, she studied intensely from home while occasionally attending online coaching classes, eventually reaching the equivalent academic level of Class 10 by the age of sixteen.

Today, with the help of Vikram, he managed to secure her admission in a well-known private school in Mumbai despite the late transfer under exceptional circumstances.

The school agreed to conduct a private assessment interview instead of demanding complete academic records. The Sehgal influence, along with Vikram’s support, helped smooth out the complications that otherwise would have made the admission nearly impossible.

Ekta blinked, startled, before relaxing and letting Ekansh make her braid. She was nervous, and more than that, scared. Again a new school, a new environment, and new people surrounding her terrified her. She still remembered the first day of school back in Shimla. She had hated going there, already prepared to protest, but in front of Ekansh’s kindness, everything died down in her throat.

A man who found a strange girl on the street in a distorted condition, a man who helped her without any malicious intentions, a man who gave her safety when the world had only shown her fear, she couldn’t bring herself to deny whatever Ekansh was doing for her.

It wasn’t like the school itself made her uncomfortable. Even she wanted to study like other kids her age, enjoy what fearless moments actually felt like, but she had spent too many years watching people with wary eyes. It didn’t matter if they were her age, older than her, or even younger. The taste of cruelty from each stage of life was already too familiar to her.

A few days back, when Ekansh informed her about the admission to the new school, she didn’t feel any excitement or curiosity. All she felt was dread. Since the day she had seen her brother again, she felt like something bad was going to happen, a storm slowly approaching that she was completely unprepared for, and her gut feeling never went wrong. Between joy, fear, and uncertainty, she didn’t know what to feel anymore or which emotion to trust.

“Ekta?” Ekansh called out, shaking her gently out of her thoughts.

Ekta lifted her gaze, meeting his through the mirror.

Ekansh rested his hand on her head. “School accha hai, bacche. I have taken out every information about the place. It’s safe and well supervised. Agar tujhe pasand nahi aaya toh we can go for homeschooling and...”

“Can’t we do that now?” Ekta cut him off hopefully.

The option of homeschooling was available for her a few years back too when Ekansh was in Shimla, but she had held back, knowing homeschooling cost far more than regular studies, and with the little expenditure they had, it was impossible to afford that high-class education. However, today things were different. She could maybe directly apply for that. That way, there would be no need for her to meet anyone. She could be safely hidden in the cocoon of her room, peaceful and untouched.

Ekansh turned the chair toward himself, kneeling before her and holding her hands in his.

“We can, Ekta. And I don’t have a problem with that. Tu jo chahti hai, main woh karne ke liye tayyar hoon. But just for once, go to this place, meet people, meet the teachers… just two weeks. Observe everything. Agar phir bhi tera faisla yahi hua, then I will arrange homeschooling without any hesitation.”

Being caged up inside a room twenty-four by seven makes people’s minds slowly drift into darkness. However, Ekta stayed locked away because she feared the outside world more than loneliness itself. He couldn’t force her, but he wanted her to mingle with the world. The world was not a kind place, that was the truth, but hiding from it forever only made surviving harder, and that wasn’t what he wanted for Ekta. He wanted her to learn and live instead of merely existing.

Ekta nodded reluctantly. She was sure even after two weeks her answer would remain the same. She would choose homeschooling because isolation felt far safer than trusting people again. For now, she agreed just for Ekansh.

✨✨✨

Once done with breakfast, Ekansh rose to his feet, walking out followed by Ekta. He glanced up the stairs, not finding Eshita dragging her zombie self down. He sighed in relief. His sister was proving to be the bane of his existence. He was glad she was sleeping sprawled on her bed after kicking him out of his own bed unceremoniously.

First, she would drink liters of coffee despite his warnings and scoldings just to write whatever her brain was filled with, and then she would sleep at odd hours like five in the morning. Each stupidity that affected her health was getting on his nerves. It didn’t help that his scoldings were wasted on her stubborn self; she listened, pretended to be guilty, but at the end still broke the rules he hated to see broken the most. He was done with her silliness.

“Chal mere sath.” He held Ekta’s wrist, guiding her toward the small prayer temple in their house.

Their mother was a devoted worshipper of Goddess Durga. She performed daily prayers, kept fasts, even celebrated every Navratri with complete faith, and the family followed her beliefs without question because they trusted her devotion completely.

Ekansh picked up the mauli placed near the idol’s feet before turning to Ekta. His mother always believed that before leaving for something important, one should take God’s blessings. She used to tie him, their father, and even Eshita the red sacred thread on their wrists on special days, believing it carried the goddess’s blessings and protection with it. He was simply following what he had always been taught.

Ekta’s eyes fogged with tears. She stared at the mauli Ekansh wrapped around her wrist. memories flickered back like a light blinking in darkness against her will…

“Ekta…” Her mother’s warm voice floated in her ears. “Kya kar rahi hai? Aise mandir mein nahi khelte, beta.”

Five-year-old Ekta stopped, turning toward her mother with a small pout on her lips. “Toh aur kya karu? Aap mere peeche pad gayi ho maa. Mujhe nahi jaana ghar abhi. Kya hum yaha ruk bhi sakte thodi der aur?”

Meera shook her head firmly. “Aaj nahi, Ekta. Hum phir kabhi aayenge. Mera vrat tha isliye mujhe aana pada. Jaldi jaake tere baba ke liye khana bhi banana hai na. Nahi toh woh gussa karenge.”

Ekta huffed, hugging her mother tightly. “Baba sirf gussa hi karte rehte hai jab dekho tab. Mujhe woh acche nahi lagte…”

“Shh.” Meera stopped her, pulling back and kneeling before her daughter. “Aisa nahi kehte, Ekta. Tu toh meri pyari gudiya hai na. Aisi baate kyun kar rahi hai? Tera baba gusse wale hai par hai acche insan hi. Woh bas… kuch cheeze unhe pasand nahi. Apne baba ke liye aisa mat kaha kar meri khatir.”

Little Ekta stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her mother’s neck. “Theek hai. Nahi kehti main kuch bhi. Aap naraz mat ho jao.”

“Arrey maine kab kaha main naraz hu?” Meera laughed softly, brushing away her daughter’s hair. “Main toh bas tujhe samjha rahi thi. Accha yeh dekh…” She picked up the mauli from the aarti thal.

“Yeh kya hai?” Ekta asked curiously.

Meera smiled faintly. “Yeh mata ka aashirvad hai. Hamesha teri raksha karega.”

“Uske liye aap ho na.” Ekta murmured innocently. “Phir iski mujhe kya zarurat?”

“Jab main nahi rahungi tab meri gudiya ki raksha karne ke liye yeh hai na.”

Five-year-old her didn’t understand the meaning behind her mother’s words clearly. Like every other child, she believed her mother would never leave her, that she would stay forever till the end of the world. But sixteen-year-old her knew better.

Her mother was no more. The only protector, supporter, the one who truly loved and cared for her, was gone. She could cry her heart out for her grief, but how could she blame someone else for her loss?

Who was the reason behind her mother’s suffering? Definitely her.

So how could she accept the thread of protection now, even if it was in the name of the goddess, tied with her brother’s faith, just like once she wore it for her mother’s belief? Today things were different.

Since the last few years, Ekansh had been doing exactly that during Navratri, on the days he kept fasts, or during her important days like exams. And she let him be, allowing him to do as he pleased. The emotions behind them never touched her. The past never flashed before her eyes. The memories didn’t claw through her chest. Everything inside her remained numb.

But today she felt everything all at once, something she hadn’t for years, and that didn’t sit well with her. She deserved pain and hatred, not protection or blessings.

Her other hand reached out, tugging the thread harshly before snapping it into two pieces. She didn’t deserve that kind of protection.

Ekansh gasped, startled. “Yeh kya kiya Ekta?”

Ekta stared at him blankly, the broken thread slipping from her fingers onto the ground. “I don’t need this, bhaiya. School ke liye late ho raha hai. We should leave.”

Ekansh tried to speak, but Ekta walked past him in a robotic pace. He stared at her retreating figure before picking up the broken thread and placing it back on the aarti thal. If him doing the same gesture never affected her earlier, then what changed today disturbed him deeply.

Helplessness surged through his veins once again. Again, he stood at a point where he didn’t know how to reach her anymore. It was no longer about truth, nor about him forcing answers out of Ekta. It was about how many years someone could hold onto silence and still stand beside another person unmoving, simply because they loved them too much to walk away or impose.

✨✨✨

Ekta stepped out of the car as Ekansh opened the door for her. The whole ride she had remained quiet; luckily, even he didn’t utter a word. The way Ekansh always chose to give her space and time to be comfortable and gather herself made her feel grateful for such silent understanding.

If it had been in her hands, she would have poured out her heart before him long ago. She trusted him with her truths, but the shame she carried within herself, the disgust she felt toward her own existence, was not something meant for him to hear. Not for a sister to break the sanctity of that bond where she could speak to her brother about something so horrifying without shattering herself in the process. She didn’t believe in crossing that line with Ekansh. Not ever.

“Tu theek hai?” Ekansh’s tone softened. He didn’t want to pressure her when she was already nervous. She was going to sit for an interview; he didn’t want to overwhelm her further.

Ekta nodded. She glanced around the huge campus. The tall building of St. Louis stood before her grandly, students getting down from luxurious cars while laughing and talking amongst themselves. None of it helped her; it only increased her anxiety further. Her fingers reached out, clutching onto Ekansh’s arm for reassurance.

Ekansh looked down at her. Following her gaze, he kept a reassuring hand over hers. “No one will dare to bother you, Ekta. And if anyone does, you will tell me first. Clear?”

Ekta looked up at him. The protectiveness screaming through his words wasn’t lost on her. “Aap har baar aisa hi kyun bolte ho? Aisa kya karoge aap agar kisi ne mujhe pareshan kiya toh?”

Back in Shimla, no one bothered her. In fact, her classmates wanted to befriend her, but she avoided them like a plague, and they tagged her as rude. She was fine being called rude or a bitch, but not getting bullied for her silence that was judged wrong. Then Ekansh had told her that the school followed anti-bullying policies strictly; any student, senior or junior, who caused trouble for another student was thrown out immediately. Yet she focused more on the ultimatum in her brother’s voice, like he would snap someone’s neck if they ever bothered her.

Ekansh cradled her face, kissing her crown gently. “I will protect you and teach them a lesson they will never forget in their life.”

Ekta looked at him. There was a side of Ekansh she had never truly witnessed, but she could say there were glimpses of it hidden beneath his calm exterior, and within the last one month she had started feeling that aura around him clearly, one that silently warned: don’t mess with me.

She didn’t know what exactly her brother was capable of, and somewhere she was curious to see the real Ekansh Sehgal, the one hidden behind layers of restraint and control.

The cue of the interview came. Ekta rose to her feet, followed by Ekansh. Her nervousness was at its peak.

Ekansh stopped her as she tried stepping back, “Nervous hai?” His voice softened.

Ekta nodded. “Can’t we go for homeschooling? Mujhse nahi hoga. What if I mess up the answers? They will think I am a lost case and will throw me out. Isse accha toh hum khud hi nahi jaate andar. Let’s just leave, bhaiya.”

Ekansh lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Tera naam kya hai?” His tone firmed.

Ekta tried to look away, but he didn’t let her. “Ekta,” she mumbled.

“And what does it mean?” Ekansh pressed further.

“A star that stands alone but shines brightly,” Ekta answered quietly. It was the meaning he had instilled in her whenever she cowered back or flinched before strangers, unable to keep her pathetic self under control. It was Ekansh who gave her name a meaning and courage when she had none left within herself.

Ekansh nodded, satisfied. “Keep that in mind then. I asked you for two weeks, Ekta, and after that I will do whatever you want. But before that I want you to give it a try. Nervousness aur Darr tab tak accha hai jab tak hum usse apne upar haavi nahi hone dete. Once we let them overpower us, we lose already. And Ekansh Sehgal’s sister can’t lose. Clear?”

Ekta nodded, though the storm inside her chest refused to calm down completely.

Ekansh wrapped his arm around her shoulders protectively before pushing the cabin door open and walking inside. He didn’t mind showing the power or influence he held, not when it was in favor of a terrified child. He wanted Ekta to have confidence in herself, and if that came with him being the real Ekansh Sehgal: ruthless, cold, and bold. He didn’t mind that.

Only he knew how desperate he was for Ekta not to change her answer after two weeks. He wanted her to have friends, even one was enough, someone with whom she could share silence without fear rather than being locked up with herself between four walls. Some chains were never visible to the eyes, yet they suffocated the soul the most, and he hoped against hope that hers would finally begin to break.

✨✨✨

The moment they stepped inside the cabin, the principal rose to his feet almost immediately. He had already been informed that Virendra Sehgal’s son would be arriving regarding admission with his sister. He had gone through the file personally the previous night. The details were limited; the schooling history at the National Institute of Open Schooling in Shimla allowed for a flexible academic background, and that itself gave it a green flag.

Their institution also had a policy of accommodating exceptional cases, whether students with extraordinary merit, powerful backing, or children who had nowhere else to go. With Vikram personally involved in the recommendation, he decided not to question further.

“Mr. Sehgal,” his tone carried both politeness and respect as he extended his hand toward Ekansh.

Ekansh shook it firmly. “Good morning, Mr. David.”

The principal nodded, gesturing toward the chairs. “Please, have a seat.”

Ekta quietly settled beside Ekansh, her fingers curling tightly together in her lap while her eyes observed everything silently.

“I must say,” The principal began pleasantly, “your father’s contribution toward the school’s expansion project last year helped us greatly. The new science wing was completed because of that funding.”

Ekansh nodded; he had no idea about office matters, yet he gave a small nod. “Dad believes education should never lack resources.” His voice was calm, measured, almost detached. He was there for his sister, for Ekta, not to hear praises about their business world.

Ekta blinked faintly. There she noticed the shift. The same man who had patiently braided her hair in the morning, who had softly reassured her outside the cabin, now sat with an entirely different aura surrounding him: cold, sharp, controlled. Every word from his mouth carried authority effortlessly.

“Yes, indeed,” the principal smiled politely. “People like your father have changed the standards of private education in Mumbai.”

Ekansh leaned back slightly, one hand still resting over Ekta’s clenched fist reassuringly while the other remained relaxed against the armrest.

“The credit belongs to the institution as well,” he replied smoothly. “Money only matters when it’s used correctly.”

Ekta stared at him quietly. His tone remained icy and professional, enough to make anyone straighten unconsciously just like the principal, yet the hand resting over hers kept rubbing soft circles against her wrist every few seconds, as if reminding her silently that he was there.

Suddenly, it felt strange,  as though two completely different versions of Ekansh Sehgal existed together in the same room. One the world saw, and one reserved only for her. Did she even know the real Ekansh Sehgal? That was the question now.

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Your thoughts on Ekta's Views?

You take non Ekansh's way of handling situation? Is he right or not?

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Please do share your views!

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