Fight For Right

Chapter: 9

Randhir was slowly adjusting to his unusual life inside the Aggarwal mansion. Days blurred into one another—morning and evening, he was taken to Kishore Aggarwal's room under heavy watch. His hands were always steady, even though his heart was restless. He dressed wounds, checked pulse, measured fever, and changed medicines while four sharp pairs of eyes followed his every move.
Kishore lay pale on the bed, his breathing shallow at first. Randhir worked in silence, occasionally giving instructions.
R: "Dawa waqt pe deni hogi... aur khana halka rakhna hai. Zyada masala bilkul nahi."
Parth snorted, leaning against the wall with crossed arms.
P: "Doctor, maare ghar mein masala kam kaise hoga way?"
Randhir didn't argue—he simply gave a faint smile.
But even amid all this tension, his gaze often met another. Sanyukta's. She stood back, arms folded, her eyes scanning every detail of him. Sometimes she smirked, sometimes her face was blank, but Randhir could feel the weight of her watchfulness.
That evening, as he gently cleaned the wound on Kishore's shoulder, he noticed her reflection in the mirror behind the bed. She wasn't mocking him today—she was just... observing.
R: "Aap chinta mat kijiye... apke pita ji ji ab theek ho jaenge. Sirf thoda aram zaroori hai."
Sanyukta tilted her head, narrowing her eyes.
S: "Tu doctor... hamesha itna shaant kaise rehway? Na gussa, na darr... kuch bhi na?"
Randhir looked at her once, then back to the wound.
R: "Maa ne sikhaya hai... gussa aur darr se insaan andha ho jaata hai. Aur doctor ko toh hamesha aankhen khuli rakhni padti hain."
For the first time, Sanyukta had no reply. Something inside her shifted, though she quickly masked it with her usual hard expression.
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