In the heart of chaos

Chapter 3

The afternoon sun filtered through the lace curtains, casting soft patterns on the wooden floor of Aarohi's room. The walls were lined with memories she held close but also memories that weren't hers to live. In the far corner stood a small table, and on it were three frames—each one holding a part of Aarohi's heart.

The first photo was of Sirat, her mother. Strong, determined, eyes full of fire. Aarohi had always admired Sirat's courage and grit, qualities she had tried to embody. The second photo was of Kartik, her father, smiling as if he were caught in a moment of laughter. The third one was Naira. She had never met Naira, but the family spoke of her with such love and reverence that Aarohi often felt like she knew her.

Aarohi walked up to the photos, her fingers trembling as they grazed the glass surface of her mother's image. Her reflection blurred with Sirat's face, and she closed her eyes, feeling the weight of everything that had happened crash down on her.

"Mom..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don't know what to do anymore."

For a long moment, there was only silence, but in that silence, Aarohi could almost hear her mother's voice, telling her to be strong, to fight for what she wanted.

"You were so strong, Mom. You never let anything break you," Aarohi continued, her voice thick with emotion. "But I'm not like you. I thought I could be, but... I'm not."

Her hands balled into fists as anger swelled in her chest. "I tried so hard. I tried to be the perfect daughter, the perfect sister, but nothing is ever enough. Akshara always gets what she wants, doesn't she? Even Abhimanyu... he chose her over me."

She looked at Sirat's photo again, her eyes burning with tears. "What would you have done, Mom? If you were here, would you have told me to fight harder? To not give up?"

Aarohi let out a shaky breath and moved her gaze to Kartik's photo. "And you, Dad... I wish you were here. You always knew how to make things right. Everyone loved you so much. Sometimes I think... I think I wasn't good enough for you either."

The lump in her throat grew as she stared at his smiling face. Kartik had been her anchor, but he was gone now, and without him, she felt lost—adrift in a sea of emotions she didn't know how to navigate.

"I miss you," Aarohi whispered. "I miss you so much. If you were here, none of this would have happened. You would've stopped this wedding mess before it even started. You would've protected me."

Her hand trembled as she reached for the third photo, the one of Naira. The woman she had never met, but who seemed to cast a long shadow over her life. Naira had been perfect, from everything Aarohi had heard. A loving wife, a perfect mother to Akshara, and Kartik's first love.

Aarohi's fingers brushed the glass, and she let out a bitter laugh. "Everyone talks about you like you were an angel, Naira maa. Like you could do no wrong. But where does that leave me? Sirat wasn't perfect, but she was my mother. And now you're this ideal I can never live up to."

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears. "You know, sometimes I wonder if Dad would've loved me more if I were more like you. If I were softer, kinder... like Akshara."

The bitterness in her voice was unmistakable as she spoke Akshara's name. Akshara, the daughter Naira had left behind. Akshara, the one everyone adored. And now, the one who had taken away the one thing Aarohi thought was hers—Abhimanyu.

"I'm tired, Naira maa," Aarohi said, her voice cracking. "I'm so tired of being compared to you, to Akshara. I don't even know who I am anymore. Am I Sirat's daughter, or am I just someone living in your shadow?"

The tears Aarohi had been holding back finally spilled over, and she sank to the floor, her head resting against the table where the photos stood. "I'm lost. I don't know what to do."

The room was silent, save for Aarohi's quiet sobs. She had always prided herself on being strong, on not letting anything break her. But in that moment, with her parents' photos staring down at her, she felt more broken than she ever had before.

"You both left me," Aarohi whispered, her voice trembling. "You both left me to figure this out on my own, and I don't know how. I don't know how to move forward."

She closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like if they were still here—if Sirat and Kartik hadn't been taken from her so soon. Would things have been different? Would she have grown up with the security and love that Akshara had? Would she have been spared the pain of feeling second best?

Aarohi clenched her fists, her knuckles white as she fought to suppress the rage building inside her. "It's not fair. It's not fair that I have to suffer while Akshara gets everything. She got Dad's love, Maa's love and she got your memory, Naira maa, and now she's taken Abhimanyu too."

She wiped her tears, her voice filled with determination. "But I won't let this break me. I won't let her take everything from me."

Aarohi stood up slowly, her gaze hardening as she stared at the photos one last time. "You might be gone, but I'm still here. And I'll make sure that no one forgets that. Not Akshara, not Abhimanyu... no one."

With that final thought, Aarohi turned away from the photos, her heart heavy but her resolve stronger than ever. She would find a way to move forward, to rebuild the life that had been shattered. She owed that much to herself—and to the memory of the parents who had left her behind.