My Life Is Incomplete Without You

Chapter 1 - Orphaned at intermission

All Sanyukta...

The Monday sun had barely climbed when Divya and I trudged toward school. A brittle breeze scattered dry leaves on the dirt road.

"Damn, I hate Mondays—same school, same studies, and this junk cycle." She kicked a wheel, gravel crunching beneath her heel.

Without a bike of my own, I walked beside her, shuffling sand at my feet. I smiled inwardly, savoring these last carefree hours of being twelve—unaware that life's axis would soon tilt.

We came from a loving, middle-class family. Dad, Prithviraj Agrawal, worked as a clerk at the income tax office, and Mum, Sushma, ran our home with quiet strength. They never mocked my dreams. Around me, my six-year-old twins, Vibhu and Tamanna, squealed with delight at chasing each other through our sprawling ancestral mansion—the grandest in our village.

Divya nudged my elbow. "Wow—found a boyfriend?"

"Oh, multiple," I teased, flashing a grin.

"Come on, spill the secret of your happiness!" she demanded.

"We're going to Jaipur for a movie tonight."

Her eyes lit up. "Disneyland tickets! Congrats!"

I laughed. "Very funny. Don't you know I'm chasing actress dreams? When I see actors on screen, I see myself."

"Babe, only actors act on screen, right?"

"True," I answered, dusting a stray hair from my cheek. "But after five years, Mum's finally joining us with the kids tonight."

Divya raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so you're giving your parents some romantic distance?"

"Ha, yes," I shot back, rolling my eyes.

"You're brave, dreaming big from a remote village," she said softly. "I'm sure balancing that with school isn't easy."

I shrugged. "You know me—studies come second to passion. Between my art and that dream..."

"Wish I could be that clever," she sighed.

"Come on—you're smart."

"Not like you. It hurts when your best friend scores top marks."

I met her gaze. She pinched her nose, half-smiling. We laughed and walked on.

By midday, we were waiting in the theater lobby.

"Iqbal," I read off the marquee. My pulse quickened—seeing my name in lights, even on a poster, sent a thrill through me. When the lights dimmed, the screen's glow swallowed me whole.

Two-thirds in, I whispered, "Poor guy—imagine fighting for his dream, deaf and mute."

Divya rested her hand on my shoulder. "Exactly. Everyone struggles. But you're normal—does that mean your dream is easier? No. You'll still have to work for it."

Her words settled in me, honest as a pulse. At the climax, they echoed louder, and I left the theater resolved yet still hoping for some magical shortcut to success.

After the film, we piled into an autorickshaw, the twins squeezed between us up front, while Mum and Dad followed on their scooter—modest comforts of our lower-middle-class life.

Then came the traffic jam. Horns and engines, the stench of petrol, the heat. I ducked out, scanning the crowd. The twins tensed. I gestured for them to stay. Striding toward the bottleneck, I spotted a gathering ahead. My heart tripped—something inside me froze.

I parted the crowd. There they lay—my parents—faces pale, bodies still, a dark slick of blood pooling beneath them. A sick weight lodged in my throat. I dropped to my knees, throat raw.

"Maa... Baba..." My voice cracked as I gripped Dad's collar.

Someone muttered, "They're dead."

I jolted upright. "They're alive. Do you hear me? Help!" My knuckles whitened around the neck of the stranger who had spoken.

The ambulance sirens reached me as though from underwater. Then, the doctors' words: "They're gone."
My world shattered—cracked like a glass dropped from a height. I collapsed onto a bench, stunned. My mind blinked blank.

Three of us were orphans now. Three. My gaze fell to my siblings—innocent eyes wide in terror.

A soft hand fell on my shoulder. "Baba..." I murmured. Divya's blurred outline came into view. I opened my arms and she pulled me close. I wept with abandon.

"We're orphans," I sobbed. "We have nothing left, Divi!"

She stroked my hair. "Shh... Look at them." She nudged me to face the twins.

"Di... why are you crying?" Timi whispered, wiping my tears.

"I'm hungry," said Vibhu, eyes solemn.

"Mom and Dad are on a long trip, baby," I whispered, voice rough.

"They're coming back?" he asked, hopeful.

I swallowed. "Yes, if you behave...and listen to Di."

"Then I'll ask Baba for a Barbie!" Timi beamed.

I staggered away, tears spilling. Divya trailed behind.

"Divi..." I sobbed. "Am I lying to them?"

She hugged me. "You're stronger than you think. You'll take care of them. You'll fight."

To be continued...