The Next Day

The Taneja family finally arrived in Rishikesh, a city nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas, known for its serene beauty and spiritual energy. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the faint scent of incense from the nearby temples. 

As the car came to a stop, Aryan was the first to step out. He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, as if he wanted to soak in the essence of the place.

His eyes fluttered open, scanning the surroundings with the wonder of a child. The sight of the Ganges flowing gracefully, the distant ringing of temple bells, and the faint hum of chants seemed to momentarily ease the tension etched on his face. 

For the first time in what felt like ages, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He seemed captivated, as though the city's tranquility had reached out to touch something deep within him.

The rest of the family slowly stepped out, their expressions a mix of exhaustion from the journey and the weight of the occasion.

 The purpose of their visit loomed heavy in the air, but there was an unspoken understanding that this trip was not just about paying respects—it was also about healing wounds and finding closure.

As they made their way to the ghat for Anjali's shrad ceremony, the atmosphere grew more somber. The narrow streets leading to the river were bustling with activity—pilgrims offering prayers, vendors selling flowers and offerings, and the rhythmic clinking of brass vessels being filled with holy water.

 Yet, amidst the chaos, there was a sense of order, a rhythm that seemed to align with the heartbeat of the sacred city.

When they reached the ghat, the family gathered near the riverbank. The pandit began the rituals, chanting prayers that resonated with the flowing waters of the Ganges. 

The family stood in silence, their heads bowed, each lost in their own thoughts. The weight of loss was palpable, and the act of letting go felt both painful and necessary.

Aryan, however, seemed unable to stay still. His eyes darted around, taking in the sights—the shimmering water, the flickering flames of diyas floating on the river, and the people around him. 

There was a restlessness in his demeanor, as though he was searching for something he couldn't quite name.

Slowly, his feet began to move. At first, it seemed unintentional, but soon, he was walking away from the group. 

The sound of the pandit's chants faded into the background as Aryan wandered further, drawn by the sights and sounds of the bustling ghat. His steps were hesitant yet purposeful, as if he was being guided by an invisible force.

No one noticed his absence at first. The family was too engrossed in the ceremony, their focus on the rituals and the memories of Anjali. 

It wasn't until the final offerings were made that Mr.verma glanced around and realized Aryan was missing.

"Aryan kahan hai?" Mr.verma asked, his voice tinged with alarm.

Panic spread quickly as the family began calling out his name, their voices growing louder with each passing moment. They searched the immediate area, their eyes scanning the crowd, but Aryan was nowhere to be seen.

Amidst this commotion, Aryan's four-year-old daughter stands apart, observing quietly. Despite her young age, her determination shines through. Seeing the adults' frantic search, she decides to take matters into her own hands. 

Her courage and innocence drive her to venture off on her own, believing she can find her father.

As she navigates the crowded ghat, her small frame is jostled by the bustling crowd until she collides with someone. The moment is pivotal—a chance encounter that changes the course of events.

Author's POV

Jhanvi, rushing to her café, is preoccupied with her routine responsibilities. Her mind is likely filled with thoughts about the day ahead, completely unaware of the life-changing moment about to unfold.

When the little girl bumps into her, Jhanvi's initial reaction is one of surprise. Looking down, she sees a child with wide, innocent eyes gazing up at her. Before she can fully process what's happening, the child throws her arms around her, calling her "Mumma" with a joy and certainty that takes Jhanvi by surprise.

Jhanvi's immediate reaction is confusion, but there's also an undercurrent of something deeper—an inexplicable sense of familiarity. Her heart skips a beat as she crouches to the child's level, her voice soft and gentle.

"Beta, kya hua? Tumhari mummy kahan hai?" she asks, trying to understand the situation. Her tone reflects genuine concern and care, but the child's response only deepens the mystery.

The little girl's unwavering declaration—"Aap meri mumma ho!"—leaves Jhanvi stunned.

 The conviction in the child's voice is disarming, tugging at emotions Jhanvi didn't know she had. 

For a moment, time seems to stand still as Jhanvi processes the child's words and the unexpected bond she feels.

"Beta, maine aapki mumma nahi hoon—aapke parents kahaan hain?" Jhanvi asked, her voice soft but laced with concern as she glanced around, hoping for some clue to the child's whereabouts.

The little girl looked up at her, her big eyes filled with longing, and repeated with innocent certainty, "Aap kahaan the, Mumma?"

Jhanvi felt a pang in her chest, the words echoing in her mind. There was something so familiar about this child, something that tugged at her heartstrings, but she couldn't place it.

 She was about to speak again when her phone rang, interrupting the moment.

Turning to pick up the call, Jhanvi's mind was momentarily distracted. "Hello?" she answered,

When she turned back, the child was gone. Her heart lurched in her chest, and she quickly scanned the area, but the girl had vanished without a trace.

A rush of emotions flooded Jhanvi—confusion, frustration, and a deep, gnawing sense of loss. She had no idea why, but the fleeting encounter had stirred something in her, something she couldn't explain.

 It was as if the universe had just dropped a puzzle piece into her life, and she was left to figure out what it meant.

Her heart raced as she tried to shake off the strange feeling. What just happened? she thought, her mind reeling. She couldn't stop thinking about the little girl.