Destiny or Accident?

Episode: 22 || Idea!

"Take the stones,
people throw at you.
And use them
to build a monument."

By Ratan Tata.

The morning was in full bloom. Birds chirped in the trees, their songs a gentle reminder that the world had already been awake for hours. The villagers had long started their day, following their daily rhythms with a sense of purpose. Some had gone to the river, offering the first water of the day to the rising sun, while others knelt before their deities in their home shrines, whispering prayers of gratitude for yet another day of life. Life moved forward in a steady, rhythmic hum.

But not for Advika.

She felt like a shadow of herself, dragging her body through the motions like some lifeless shell. She hadn't slept. Not even for a moment. The events of the previous night—or rather, the early morning—played on a loop in her mind, each scene replaying with a fresh sting. Over and over, like a broken record.

After Karna left, she had stayed in his room for what felt like an eternity. The scent of him still lingered in the air, haunting her. Every breath she took felt like it was coated in memories of him—of the words they exchanged, of the painful silence that had filled the space between them. She couldn't stay there any longer. She feared that if she stayed even a second more, she might lose all sense of herself.

So she left. For once, she didn't sneak back to her chambers through the balcony. She didn't care if someone saw her walking openly in the corridor that led back to her room—if anyone questioned why she had been in a man's quarters so late at night. She couldn't muster the energy to care. Fortunately, she managed to reach her room without incident. At least, she thought no one had seen her.

But Karna had. He had waited for her in the shadows of the opposite corridor, his eyes following her movements. When she finally emerged, walking toward her chambers with the robotic gait of someone too exhausted to think, he had watched her. His heart ached seeing her like this, but his own heart was still bruised. He couldn't ignore his own pain, even though seeing hers had nearly undone him.

Inside her room, Advika collapsed onto the bed, not bothering to close the doors. It didn't matter. Sleep didn't come. Her thoughts churned and twisted through the long hours of the night. She was mentally exhausted, but her mind refused to give her a moment's rest. When dawn broke, she barely noticed. The sunlight felt intrusive, almost mocking, as if the world had the audacity to keep turning while she lay there, trapped in her own emotional turmoil.

By the time she dragged herself out of bed, she had already missed breakfast. No one had come to check on her. She was grateful for that small mercy. She got ready slowly, her movements sluggish as though wading through thick fog. Her mind felt heavy, weighed down by feelings she hadn't experienced in years—feelings she had buried deep, hidden beneath layers of stone and steel.

As she stood before the mirror, she hardly recognized the woman staring back at her. Her skin had lost its glow, the exhaustion creating faint shadows beneath her eyes. Dark circles stood out prominently on her usually bright face. There was no makeup here to hide them, nothing to mask the signs of her sleepless night. In her own time, she would've applied some concealer, covered up the tiredness. But here? She was exposed, raw, vulnerable.

She sighed, forcing herself to move. She adjusted her dupatta properly, taking extra care to ensure the strings of her blouse were tied securely this time. She didn't want to give anyone another show of her disarray. Her fingers were quick but methodical, making sure everything was in place. When she was satisfied, she gave herself one last look in the mirror, nodding in half-hearted reassurance.