In this heartfelt tale, we follow the lives of Aravind and Chaaru, two teenage school sweethearts, as they navigate the complexities of love, responsibility, and growing up together. Unlike most teenage couples, they strive to build a relationship b...
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I shook my head violently, forcing the thought away, but it kept creeping back, a shadow in the corners of my mind that refused to be banished. The beeping of the machines beside Chaaru's bed felt unbearably loud in the silence of the room, each sound a cruel reminder that she was still here, but also so far away.
I leaned down, pressing my lips to her cold hand once more, my heart breaking a little more with each breath she didn't take on her own.
"Please, Chaaru," I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion. But she remained still, her face peaceful, as if she were just sleeping. The baby—our baby—was still safe, for now. But I knew time was running out.
Later that night, the doctor returned with a grave expression, her usual brisk professionalism softened by the gravity of the situation. I stood up quickly, looking for any sign of hope on her face, but I found none.
"I'm afraid we don't have much time left," she said softly. "Chaaru's condition has stabilized for now, but she cannot remain unconscious and carry the baby much longer. We have 24 hours, at most, before we'll need to perform an emergency C-section to save both her and the baby."
My heart dropped. "Isn't there anything more you can do? There has to be something..."
She sighed; her eyes full of compassion but firm. "Her body is weak from the fall, and the trauma to her head makes it risky for her to go through childbirth naturally. If she doesn't regain consciousness soon, we'll have no choice but to intervene."
I swallowed hard, feeling the world closing in around me. The doctor placed a hand on my arm.
"At this point, it's in the hands of God."
Her words hit me like a hammer. I felt like I was losing control of everything, the certainty of life slipping through my fingers like sand. I wanted to scream, to lash out at the unfairness of it all, but I knew that wouldn't help her. All I could do was hold onto faith. Faith in her strength. Faith in us.
The doctor left, and I sat by Chaaru's side, watching her breathe, each rise and fall of her chest a reminder of the life we had created together. But as the hours passed, I couldn't sit still any longer. I needed to do something, anything, to keep myself from falling apart.
It was still early morning when I found myself standing at the entrance of the temple, the air cool and thick with the scent of incense. The temple was quiet, the only sound the soft murmurs of a few early worshippers praying for their own desires, their own wishes.
I walked inside, my footsteps echoing softly against the marble floors. My mind was racing, but my heart—my heart was heavy with the weight of helplessness.
I approached the altar, lighting a small lamp and placing it before the idol, the flickering flame casting a soft glow on the deity's serene face. I knelt down, folding my hands, trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling into the darkness of 'what ifs.'
