bhula dena mujhe (Make Me Forget)

searching the truth.

Suddenly, Siddharth’s phone rang.

“Anchal,” he said, looking at her with a soft gaze, “Could you grab my phone from the table?”

“Of course, sir,” Aanchal replied, her voice steady as she walked over and handed him the phone.

Siddharth answered the call, his tone immediately shifting to a warmer one as he spoke into the receiver.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. How are you?”

...

“I’m taking my medicines, don’t worry. I’m doing well, really. You don’t need to fuss over me.”

...

“Okay, okay, love you. Bye, Mom.”

He ended the call and looked up at Aanchal, offering her a small smile.

“That was my mom. You know,” he said, his voice softening, “she’s just so kind and caring. Always thinking about me.”

Aanchal’s eyes, which had been focused on the ground, suddenly welled up with tears. Siddharth noticed immediately.

“Aanchal... what’s wrong?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

She tried to blink the tears away, but they fell nonetheless. “It’s nothing, sir,” she said quickly, but her voice cracked. “Just... thinking about my own mom. She was just like your mom. I loved her so much. But now... she’s gone. I lost her.”

Siddharth’s chest tightened as he watched her struggle with her emotions. He wanted to say something, but words felt inadequate. He felt a lump form in his own throat.

“Aanchal, I... I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he said quietly.

Aanchal wiped her face, trying to steady herself. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to waste your time.”

“No,” Siddharth replied, his voice firm yet gentle, “It’s okay. Take all the time you need.”

There was a pause, and then Aanchal’s voice broke the silence again. “Sir, I need to know... what happened to you last night? You looked... disturbed.”

Siddharth hesitated, the memory of that night flooding back. He took a deep breath and began to speak, his voice low and hesitant.

---

Flashback

After the accident, Siddharth had searched frantically for the man responsible. He called out, his voice echoing in the stillness, but there was no response. He had walked for what felt like hours, his steps heavy, his mind racing with questions. But there was no sign of the man, no trace to follow.

Exhausted, he finally stopped beneath a tree, the weight of the night’s events pressing down on him. He called out again, his voice hoarse, “Hey! Where are you? I know you’re out there!”

But nothing.

Suddenly, he felt cold hands around his neck. His feet left the ground, and he gasped, trying to break free. A voice, low and menacing, hissed in his ear.

“Stay away from what's mine, stay away from her”

His breath caught in his throat. He struggled, panic rising in his chest as the world spun around him. And then, just as suddenly, the grip loosened. He fell to the ground, scrambling to regain his footing.

Before he could react, something sharp struck him in the head. The world tilted, his vision blurring. He screamed in pain, but everything faded to black.