Just A Friend?

Chapter Thirty-One

Four days later

The sky hung heavy and brooding, cloaked in an oppressive veil of ominous black clouds that seemed to press down upon the earth with a sense of foreboding. The wind howled and wailed through the night, a mournful lament that echoed like the cries of some ancient, restless spirit. Lightning jagged across the darkened heavens, the raw electric blaze tearing through the gloom, followed by the thunder's explosive roar that rattled the very bones of the earth. Soon, the rain began its relentless assault, starting as a tentative drizzle before transforming into a torrential downpour that cascaded from the sky in sheer, unrelenting sheets. It pounded upon the roof with a ferocity that seemed almost angry, as if demanding to be heard, to break through the barriers of human resilience.

On the television, the news reporter's voice cut through the crackling static, a grim announcement that seemed to amplify the sense of unease that had settled over the house. "The weather department predicts thunderstorms and heavy rain in Tamil Nadu. A 'yellow' alert has been issued for eight districts. The government requests that people stay at home for the next two days."

Sridevi's fingers trembled slightly as she switched off the television, the silence that followed the announcement amplifying the emptiness that had taken root in the house. She moved to the couch where Ragu sat, his gaze distant, his mind clearly lost in a labyrinth of thoughts. The house, once a beacon of warmth and life, had now become a hollow shell, its very essence drained by the collective grief and silence that pervaded every corner.

"Ragu, it's been two days since he woke up," Sridevi's voice quavered, her tone heavy with the weight of her worries. "He hasn't stepped out of his room, not even to eat properly. He just drinks all the time. I've tried talking to him, but he won't listen. He won't let any of us into his room." She rested her head on Ragu's shoulder, the tears she had been holding back finally escaping as a quiet sob.

Ragu's hand gently stroked her hair, a gesture of both comfort and resignation. "Let him stay alone for a while," he said softly, his voice a murmur of compassion and patience. "We can't force him to snap out of it. He needs time to come to terms with everything." The sorrow in his eyes reflected the depth of their collective pain, an unspoken acknowledgment of the struggles they were all enduring.

"But how long, Ragu? How long can we let this go on?" Sridevi's voice was tinged with desperation, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked up at him. "Try to talk to him one last time, please. Maybe... maybe it will help."

Ragu cupped her face gently, his own eyes mirroring the anguish he felt inside. "I've tried twice already," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of his own helplessness. "But alright, I'll give it one more try. You call Rakesh and ask him to come back as soon as he can. The storm alert means it's dangerous to be out there." His tone was firm but tender, a reflection of his deep love and concern for both his nephew and his wife.

Sridevi nodded, her resolve steeling as she wiped away her tears. She picked up the phone, her fingers moving with a sense of urgency as she dialed Rakesh's number.

_______^-^_______

Upon the primrose sand, where the soft golden hue seemed almost too delicate for reality, Prabhas stood entranced by the sheer splendor of the ocean. The grains beneath his feet were warm, a comforting contrast to the cool, gentle breeze that brushed against his skin.

The stars above shone with an ethereal light, their brilliance a testament to the timeless dance between day and night. Each twinkle was a whisper of the past, a glimpse into a world that felt both distant and intimately familiar.

"Pabsu, catch me if you can!" The melodious call, like the tinkling of a distant bell, floated through the air, pulling him from his reverie. The voice, so clear and sweet, beckoned from a mere twenty feet away. His heart leapt as he turned to follow the sound, a smile curling at the edges of his lips.