ᴍɪʜɪᴛʜᴀ-𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓸𝓫𝓼𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷

chapter 53

             Author's pov

Rudransh stood at the threshold of the ancient temple, its towering spires reaching toward the heavens, and the air thick with the scent of incense and fresh flowers. He felt out of place among the throngs of worshippers, who seemed to flow effortlessly into the sacred space. Today, however, he wasn’t there to marvel at the architecture or the rituals; he was there with a singular purpose: to plead for Mihitha’s life.

He stepped inside, the coolness of the stone floor grounding him amidst the swirling chaos of emotions inside his heart. The temple was vibrant with color, the walls adorned with intricate carvings and paintings depicting gods and goddesses. But all of it felt distant and muted compared to the torment he felt within.

Rudransh moved toward the altar, where a statue of the goddess stood in serene grace, draped in marigold garlands. He dropped to his knees, the smooth stone pressing against his skin as he lowered his head in prayer. “Please,” he whispered, his voice barely a tremor above the whispers around him. “I don’t ask for much. Just let her wake up. Let her come back to us.”

Tears streamed down his face as he spoke, each word laden with desperation. He had always been a man of logic and strength, but this was different. This was raw, unfiltered emotion spilling from a heart that felt shattered beyond repair. “I will do anything,” he continued, his voice breaking. “Anything you ask of me. Just give me my wife back.”

The minutes turned into an hour as he knelt there, pouring out his heart, his soul, into the silence of the temple. He could feel the weight of countless eyes upon him, but in that moment, he was oblivious to everything but his plea.

After what felt like an eternity, Rudransh stood, his heart still heavy but with a renewed sense of determination. He wiped his tears away and left the temple, stepping out into the sunlight that felt blinding after the dimness inside. But he wasn’t finished. He had more places to go, more gods to appeal to.

The next stop was a nearby mosque, its minarets soaring into the sky, and the call to prayer resonating through the air. As he entered, he was greeted by the serene ambiance of the space an aura of peace he desperately needed. He removed his shoes and stepped inside, the cool tiles soothing against his bare feet.

He found a quiet corner in the mosque, away from the murmurs of prayer. Here, he sank to his knees once again, his heart full of hope and despair intertwined. “Ya Allah,” he began, his voice shaking. “I come to you in my darkest hour. I beg you to spare my wife. She is everything to me, and without her, I am nothing.”

He remembered the first time he had met Mihitha, her laughter ringing like a melody that still played in his heart. He thought of her smile, the way it lit up a room, how she cared for everyone around her, and how fiercely she loved him and Nila. “Please, grant her the strength to fight. I need her. Nila needs her,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions.

The quiet of the mosque enveloped him, and he could feel a flicker of hope igniting within. After a while, he rose to his feet, the weight of his prayers still hanging in the air as he made his way back outside. But he wouldn’t stop; he couldn’t stop.

Next, he drove to a nearby church, the steeple reaching high above the surrounding buildings. He stepped inside, the light filtering through the stained glass casting colorful patterns on the floor. The church was empty, save for a few flickering candles that offered a soft glow.

Rudransh approached the altar, his heart racing. He knelt down, the cool wood pressing against his forehead as he prayed. “God, I come to you with a heavy heart. I don’t know what else to do. My wife is in a coma, and I feel lost without her. I have never been a man of faith, but I am begging you to save her. Please, hear my plea.”

The silence wrapped around him like a blanket, and he closed his eyes, envisioning Mihitha waking up, her eyes sparkling with life. “Let me see her smile again. Let us be a family again,” he begged, his voice filled with emotion.

The echoes of his words faded into the vastness of the church, and he remained there, lost in his thoughts. As he opened his eyes, he saw the flickering candles, and for a brief moment, he felt a sense of warmth washing over him, as if a divine presence was assuring him that he was not alone in this fight.

With each place he visited, Rudransh felt a slight shift within himself. The act of praying, of laying bare his soul, was cathartic. It didn’t erase the pain, but it provided him with a glimmer of hope, a thread to cling to in the midst of despair.

As he left the church, he glanced up at the sky, the sun setting in hues of orange and purple, and for a moment, he allowed himself to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for Mihitha. He returned to the hospital, his heart heavy but filled with a flicker of hope.

Inside the sterile room, he found her just as he left her still, pale, and unresponsive. He sat down beside her, taking her hand in his, feeling the warmth of her skin against his. “I prayed today,” he whispered, tears spilling from his eyes once again. “I begged for your life, Mihitha. I hope you can hear me.”

He leaned closer, resting his head against her hand. “I will keep fighting for you. I promise. I will never stop praying. You are my everything, and I need you to come back. Nila needs you. We can’t do this without you.”

Rudransh stayed by her side, recounting the day’s events and all the places he visited, his voice a soothing balm in the stillness of the room. He talked about Nila, how she was growing and learning every day. “She misses you, you know. She needs her mother,” he said softly, his heart aching for their little girl.

As the hours passed, he continued to talk, sharing his fears, his hopes, and his dreams for their family. He imagined the day Mihitha would wake up, how they would go back to their lives, how Nila would run into her arms and how they would laugh together once again.

“I believe in you, Mihitha. I believe that you will come back to us,” he whispered, the tears falling freely now. “Please don’t leave us. We are fighting for you. I’m fighting for you.”

In that room, filled with the beeping of machines and the sterile scent of antiseptic, Rudransh vowed to remain steadfast in his belief. He would seek out every deity, every sacred place, until the last breath left his body if it meant bringing her back to life.

As the night deepened, Rudransh held her hand tightly, refusing to let go, his heart open and vulnerable, begging the universe to hear his plea.