prāṇācārya - (n.) Physician
━━━𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆, 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏.𓇢𓆸
❛. . .You might now be able to see them,
From where you are;
But look closely-
A candle flares from afar, yet...
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M I T H I L A, MATA GARGI'S ASHRAM
SAUDAMINI'S POV
My eyes felt like lead as I blinked them open. The first light of day was seeping in, casting shadows on the walls.
A dull ache pulsed in my temples, reminding me that I had lost countless hours worrying about his reaction, and had barely slept through the night, too afraid of what was about to come.
I stretched, a yawn escaping my lips, as I swung my legs over the side of the cot. The day was dawning, but so was the realization that I was unprepared for whatever lay ahead.
The sealed letter was clenched tightly in my hands, for I had poured my heart out onto those pages, laid my vulnerabilities bare. But what would my father say?
With each passing moment, the weight of the unknown started growing heavier. What if my words were misinterpreted?
I replayed my words in my mind, dissecting each sentence, searching for flaws or unintended meanings.
As I knew my father well. He mostly would interpret things in the wrong way and assume the worst. I could only wait for his letter to see what he had understood this time. The only silver lining in this dark cloud was the distance between us.
I shivered at the thought of what might have happened if I were still at home, facing his reaction head-on.
I could see it clearly, as if it were happening now: him sitting across from me, his eyes narrowed, lips pursed in disapproval. The familiar knot of fear twisted in my gut. I could almost feel the heat rising to my face. His silence would be the loudest condemnation.
I hadn't even finished thinking when a loud, sudden bang on the door jolted me awake. It had to be Anandi; nobody else was this excited, especially so early in the morning.
With a deep breath, I forced myself to stand, As I stood up from the cot, my legs felt like jelly, as if the anxiety had seeped into my bones. I made my way to the small mirror hanging on the wall, and gazed at my reflection. Dark circles under my eyes, pale skin, and a furrowed brow stared back at me. I looked like I had been through a storm, and in a way, I had.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I had written the letter, and now all I could do was wait. But waiting was never my strong suit. I needed to distract myself, occupy my mind with something, anything, to avoid the constant what-ifs
“Saudamini, open up! It's our turn to get water from the river today!”
And I was right.
I chuckled as I went to open the door. The banging got louder, making me hurry because I was afraid the poor door wouldn't be able to handle all the assault.
