Curse of heart

New Beginnings

"I was really here. In front of me stood the grand building of the Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel National Police Academy." A sudden surge of pride swelled within me.

"I did it," I whispered, a smile spreading across my face.

I joined a few trainees who had arrived a day earlier than scheduled. I was relieved and happy to be ahead of time, soaking in the moment.

Ajay was here too. He was the only one who had ever tried to see past the veil of my introversion. He didn’t pry into my personal life since Mumbai, and for that, I was grateful. At least, there was someone I could truly call a friend.

I was savoring every moment at the academy when I noticed Ajay sitting beside me in the central mess.

"You’re really happy to be here," he said, a smile lighting up his face.

I nodded, smiling back. Even the simple act of eating a piece of bread felt like a taste of heaven.

Ajay turned his attention to his plate, devouring his meal. He was clearly starving, the way he was racing to finish his food. I giggled, and he mumbled through a mouthful, "Blame it on my empty stomach."

Amid our laughter and conversation, a sudden chill ran down my spine. It felt as if someone was watching me. Who could it be?

I turned around, but the room was empty, save for a closed window in my line of sight.

Could someone be watching me from behind that window? I wondered, a strange sense of familiarity in the gaze I imagined.

Who was it?

Lost in thought, Ajay’s voice broke through.

"Are you excited about tomorrow? We’re starting our journey to become IPS officers."

I nodded again, more thoughtfully this time. Yes, I was excited. This was my chance—my only chance—to bring some peace and stability back into my mother’s and my life. After my father’s death and the collapse of our family business, survival had become a struggle. Now, I had an opportunity, and I wasn’t about to let it slip away.

I returned to my room, restless. I had always been a night owl, and in this unfamiliar environment, falling asleep felt like an impossible task. After tossing and turning, I resorted to my usual remedy—reading a novel until my eyes would finally surrender to sleep.

I jolted awake at 5:05 a.m., my throat dry with thirst. As I fumbled for my water bottle, reality hit me like a punch in the gut. Damn. I was late.

Panic surged through me, my heart pounding, cold dread creeping up my spine. I was late—on the first day of training.

My mind raced, desperately trying to outpace time itself, as my body scrambled to get ready. I had to make it to the training ground as fast as I could.

I hurriedly got ready and sprinted to the training ground, my heart racing. As I arrived, I saw three rows of trainees standing at attention, with a tall, six-foot instructor facing away from them.

I seized the moment, quietly slipping into the back of the middle row, hoping to blend in unnoticed.

Just when I began to relax, a booming voice shattered the silence.

"The last one in the middle row—step forward!"

My heart dropped. I’d been caught. How could I have been so careless? I cursed myself, panic rising in my chest.

"Did I not make myself clear?" he bellowed again, his voice echoing in the still morning air.

Eyes fixed on the ground, I stepped out from the line, shame washing over me. This was the worst way to start my training.