Fight For Right

Chapter: 1

Randhir lived a quiet life in Nashik with his family—his father, mother, and younger sister. A government doctor, he was honest and dedicated, always putting the well-being of others above his own comfort.
Recently, he had been posted to Adaarpur, (Their is no village with this name because I don't want to hurt anyone sentiment) a remote village in Rajasthan. His mother was not happy about it. She tried everything to change his mind, but Randhir remained adamant. The village lacked basic healthcare facilities—no dispensary, no hospital—and he could not ignore the people who needed help.
Standing outside his home, Randhir held his suitcase in one hand and slung his crossbody bag over his shoulder. His mother's eyes shimmered with tears, while his father and sister exchanged a small smile, watching the mother-son duo.
R: "Maa, I'll be okay. App ro mat, aur jaldi se dahi shakar khila do."
His mother spooned sugar-laden curd into his mouth one last time. Then, with a warm hug for each of them, Randhir smiled and said goodbye. It wasn't joy that lit his face—it was determination. He was going to serve the people of Adaarpur, no matter how far he had to go.
Meanwhile, in a starkly different world...
A man was tied to a chair, struggling. The heavy air of tension filled the room as a girl entered, her presence commanding. She sat casually on the table opposite him.
G: "Haan toh, bol. Tane bataya na un police walo ko humare adaay ke baare mein?"
The man's jaw trembled under her gaze.
M: "Maaf kardo..."
G: "Humare dhande mein maafi na hoti."
With that, she slapped him hard. The man's face reddened instantly.
Abhimanyu, one of her brothers, slid a gun toward her. Sanyukta didn't hesitate. The shot rang out, echoing through the room. The man slumped, lifeless on the spot.
It was Sanyukta—the fearless daughter of the Aggarwal family.
Later that evening, she returned to the family mansion.
K: "Mari beti ne maara, naam roshan kar diya."
S: "Bapu, jo humare saath dhokha karega, uska yahi anjaam hoga."
K: "Anju, arti ki thali la. Mari beti ne maara, naam roshan kar diya."
Anju Aggarwal, her mother, performed the arti with a heavy heart, sadness etching her face. Her daughter had killed a man.
S: "Maa, khush ho. Mane apne dushman ko maara se."
She stretched her lips into a small, victorious smile, and her mother—though torn—found herself smiling faintly.
Two lives, two worlds—one of innocence and one of ruthlessness. And yet, fate was about to tie them together. What future awaited a boy who could not harm anyone and a girl who killed without a second thought?
Thank you!