65 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

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• Y U V I K A • ,

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Y U V I K A • ,

2006 Malaika's dairy

Years have passed. And yet, the silence in this palace still echoes the same.
People say time changes things. Time heals. But what has it healed?

I’m still here. In the same gilded cage.
The same walls. The same suffocation.
Only difference is  now there are more faces calling me “Ma.”

Three, to be exact.

Three sons.
Three reminders.
Three weights tied to the hem of my existence.

Sometimes I wonder if motherhood is supposed to feel like this
Like drowning in a sea of voices that don’t belong to you.
Or maybe it’s just me.

Today is Rivaan’s birthday.

The cursed one.

He arrived screaming into this world, and my daughter left it in silence.
They say it was a twin pregnancy. I say it was a theft.

He stole her -the only one I wanted.
The only one I had built dreams for.
The one I whispered lullabies to while pressing my palm over my belly.

But like everything I have ever loved
She, too, never made it to this world.

Rivaan survived.
Of course he did.

Just like his father loud, stubborn, selfish.

Just like Viraj
who devoured my mother the moment he was born,Rivaan devoured his sister before she even saw the sky.

The sons in this family are born hungry.

And now there are three.
Three heirs.
Three shadows I never wished for.

People tell me I’m blessed.
I just nod.
Because no one really wants to hear the truth from a queen.

Not the truth that some mothers never bond.
That some sons are not blessings.
That some wombs carry graves.

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