There will never be Another You : Chapter 24

The red light above the operation theatre remained lit, each passing second stretching into what felt like an eternity.

Nani sat with her jaapmala clutched tightly in trembling hands, silently praying. 

Tears slipping down Anjali's cheeks despite her attempts to remain composed. 

Akash paced the corridor endlessly, stopping every few moments to glance anxiously with teary eyes and trembling hands at the ICU doors. Payal stood beside him, silently offering support.

Arnav stood apart from everyone, staring blankly through the glass window overlooking the rain-soaked city.

His thoughts drifted back nearly two decades. He was only fourteen.

The world had ended in a single night.

His parents were gone.

He still remembered holding a frightened, sobbing Anjali close while people whispered around them, speaking words he could barely understand.

Nani told them they are taking him and Anjali home.

Did they even have one anymore?

He was not sure what to do.

Then another voice had cut through the silence.

"Oh hello hi bye bye! Why are you thinking so much? Come with us to your home. Children shouldn't stay in a place filled with sorrow."

Manorama.

Even then she had spoken in her own dramatic style.

She had taken Anjali's tiny suitcase from his hand before he could protest.

"Arnav bitwa, you carry your school bag. Leave the rest."

He hadn't realised until later that she had purposely kept speaking continuously...

...because if she had stopped, she would have cried herself.

That night, when Anjali woke up screaming for their parents, it wasn't only Nani who lost her daughter comforted her.

Manorama had sat beside her bed all night, telling exaggerated stories about Delhi aunties, movie stars and fashion disasters until Anjali had finally fallen asleep.

The next morning she had scolded him for skipping breakfast.

"If you don't eat, how will you become a big businessman? Air doesn't build muscles, okay?"

Even through his grief, she had somehow managed to make him eat.

Years later...

When he had decided to start AR Designs, everyone had worried about the risks.

Banks had rejected him.

Investors had laughed at a young man with nothing except determination.

He still remembered sitting silently in the dining room, calculating expenses over and over.

There had been a soft clinking sound.

He looked up.

Manorama had placed her jewellery box in front of him.

He frowned.

"Mami..."

She folded her arms.

"What?"

"I can't take this."

"You can."

"No."

She rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Oh hello hi bye bye! Don't argue with me."

She opened the velvet box herself.

Gold bangles.

Diamond earrings.

Necklaces she had treasured for years.

"These are your jewelry"

He looked at her speechless.

She sighed.

"Jewelry locked inside cupboards is useless."

Then she looked directly into his eyes.

"But if these help you build your dreams... then they become priceless."

His throat tightened.

"I'll return everything."

She flicked his forehead gently.

"When you become successful enough that you don't remember how difficult today feels."

He had smiled through moist eyes.

Years later he had returned every single piece.

She had refused to take them back at first.

"I only lent them because I knew my Arnav bitwa would return them with interest."

She had laughed proudly before hugging him.

A warm hand rested on his shoulder.

Arnav blinked and returned to the present.

Khushi stood beside him.

She didn't say anything.

She simply slipped her hand into his.

He held it tightly.

"I never thanked her enough," he whispered, his voice breaking.

Khushi looked at him with tear-filled eyes.

He shook his head.

"I always thought there would be time."

His gaze returned to the ICU doors.

"People think Mami only cared about jewelry, fashion and appearances."

A faint smile appeared despite his tears.

"They never knew she skipped buying sarees for two years because me and Akash wanted to attend a business program, they never knew she checked every night whether I had eaten dinner when I worked till midnight."

His voice faltered.

"She never said 'I love you.'"

A tear rolled down his cheek.

"She simply showed it."

The corridor fell silent.

Akash stopped pacing.

Nani looked up at Arnav with watery eyes.

Just then the operation theatre light switched off.

Every member of the family stood up at once.

The ICU doors slowly opened.

The surgeon stepped outside, removing his mask.

Everyone held their breath.

Waiting for the words that would determine whether the woman who meant so much would return to them.

The surgeon removed his surgical cap and mask, exhaustion evident on his face.

Every member of the Raizada family stood frozen.

No one dared to speak first.

Finally, Arnav stepped forward.

"Doctor..."

The surgeon looked at each anxious face before answering.

"The surgery was successful."

For a brief second, relief washed over everyone.

Nani folded her hands toward the heavens.

"Thank you, Devi Maiyya..."

Akash closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

But the doctor's expression remained grave.

"But.. there are complications."

The corridor fell silent once again.

"The impact of the accident caused a severe injury to the brain. We were able to save her life, but the damage is significant."

Akash's heart began pounding.

"What... what do you mean?"

The surgeon spoke gently.

"Mrs. Manorama Raizada is alive."

He paused before continuing.

"However... she is currently unable to speak."

Everyone stared at him.

"And because of the spinal and neurological injuries, she cannot move her legs, its like her lower body is paralyzed."

Akash instinctively covered his mouth.

Mamaji closed his eyes in silent anguish.

The surgeon continued, choosing his words carefully.

"With intensive physiotherapy, speech therapy, medication, and constant family support, there is a possibility of improvement."

"A possibility?"

Arnav repeated quietly.

"Yes.There are patients who recover partially over months or even years. And there are patients who never regain those abilities. There are no guarantees."

His words struck the family like another blow.

"I'm sorry."

The doctor gave them a sympathetic nod before walking away, leaving behind a silence heavier than before. 

Akash stood motionless.

His eyes remained fixed on the ICU door.

"No..."

he whispered.

His shoulders began shaking violently.

The reality settled in.

His mother had survived...

...but the woman who filled every room with endless chatter now couldn't utter a single word.

The woman who walked through the house with unmatched confidence might never walk again.

Akash finally collapsed onto the waiting room chair.

His face disappeared into his trembling hands.

A broken cry echoed through the corridor.

"Maa..."

The single word shattered everyone.

Payal stood near him as he cried uncontrollably.

Mamaji stood rooted to the spot, unable to comfort his own son because he himself was struggling to remain standing.

Even Nani, who had always been the pillar of the family, wept openly.

Arnav remained standing, staring at the ICU door.

His mind wandered through the years.

As time passed, people had begun seeing only one side of Manorama.

Her sharp tongue, obsession with status, endless commentary and her dramatic complaints.

Many relatives had avoided her. Even outsiders often judged her within minutes of meeting her.

Sometimes....even members of their own family had grown irritated with her constant chatter.

Arnav himself had argued with her more times than he could count.

Yet he had always known something others rarely noticed.

His Mami's tongue had always been her greatest enemy.

She often spoke before she thought.

She complained loudly.

She exaggerated everything.

But her heart...

Her heart had never been cruel.

Instead...

...she hid it behind sarcasm, complaints, and her famous "Oh hello hi bye bye."

Arnav wiped away the tears gathering in his eyes.

Looking through the ICU window, he whispered,

"You've spent your whole life taking care of us, Mami."

His voice trembled with quiet determination.

"Now it's our turn."

He turned to the others.

"No one is going to pity her. We're bringing her home. We'll arrange the best doctors, the best therapists, the best rehabilitation."

Akash slowly raised his tear-filled eyes.

Arnav walked over and embraced his younger brother tightly.

"I promise you. We'll fight for her. For as long as it takes."

The brothers held each other as the rest of the family silently gathered around them.

-------------------------------------------------------

Ten days later...

An ambulance slowly entered the gates of Shantivan.

As the rear doors of the ambulance opened, two paramedics carefully wheeled out Manorama's stretcher.

She lay motionless.

A neck brace supported her fragile frame, her right arm rested in a sling, and monitoring equipment accompanied her. Though her eyes were open, they lacked the lively sparkle that had once intimidated servants and amused her family in equal measure.

She looked around slowly.

This was her home.

Yet she could not even raise a hand to greet it.

Nani walked beside the stretcher, gently stroking her forehead.

"You've come home, Manorama."

Tears streamed from Manorama's eyes.

She tried to respond. Nothing came.

Only a faint, broken sound escaped her lips.

Akash immediately held her hand.

"It's okay, Maa."

"You don't have to say anything."

"We understand."

Payal who accompanied them silently wiped Manorama's tears before walking beside the stretcher as it was taken into the specially prepared bedroom on the ground floor. 

The room had been renovated during the past week with a hospital bed, wheelchair access, medical equipment, and everything the doctors had recommended..

--------------------------------------

Meanwhile...Across the city...

Sr. Jha sat comfortably in his study as his trusted associate entered.

"The man has surrendered."

Sr. Jha looked up from his newspaper.

"And?"

"He confessed that he was drunk. He claims he lost control of the vehicle and accidentally rammed Mrs. Raizada's car. The police have accepted his statement."

A slow smile appeared on Sr. Jha's face.

"The money reached his family?"

"Yes."

"They've been told they'll receive the remaining amount after the case is closed."

Sr. Jha nodded in satisfaction.

"Good. No loose ends."

The associate hesitated.

"What if Arnav Singh Raizada investigates further?"

Sr. Jha leaned back calmly.

"He can investigate all he wants. A drunk driver. Eyewitnesses. A confession. Vehicle damage. Alcohol reports. Everything points to an unfortunate accident and If he suspects anything and takes any further action I have sources watch him 24x7."

------------------------

Although the police officially closed the case as a case of drunken and negligent driving, Arnav couldn't silence the uneasiness in his mind.

Late that evening, he stood alone in his study, reading the accident report for what felt like the hundredth time.

Everything was there.

The driver's confession.

The blood alcohol report.

Witness statements.

Vehicle inspection.

Nothing appeared unusual.

And yet...

Something bothered him.

He replayed the events in his mind.

That car had been meant for him.

He had planned to leave for an important meeting that morning.

Only at the last moment Manorama decided to use his car because hers had been sent for servicing.

A last-minute change.

A coincidence.

Or something else?

Arnav closed the file.

His instincts, the instincts that had built AR from nothing, refused to let him dismiss the incident so easily.

"This wasn't just bad luck," he murmured.

"I don't know why...but something is missing."

He picked up his phone.

"Aman."

"Sir?"

"I want everything about this accident verified independently. The driver his financial records. His family, Phone calls, Bank transactions, Every detail. If this was truly an accident..."

He looked toward the garden where Manorama's wheelchair could be seen through the window.

"...I want proof. And if it wasn't..."

His voice turned dangerously calm.

"find whoever did this."

---

Elsewhere, Madhumati sat alone in her house, unable to sleep.

News of Manorama's condition had spread throughout the city.

She closed her eyes. She didn't have any proof...

...but she knew Sr. Jha was behind it.

She remembered his strange confidence before the accident.

His cryptic remarks and growing hatred for the Raizadas.

At first she had assumed he wanted to create problems for the family.

Perhaps damage their reputation or frighten them.

She had never imagined he would go this far.

"What have you done...?" she whispered to herself.

For the first time since joining hands with him, genuine fear crept into her heart.

"If he can do this to Manorama...what is stopping him from hurting me or someone else?"

A wave of guilt washed over her.

She had wanted the Raizadas to suffer.

But not like this.

She covered her face with both hands.

Yet, as the night wore on, another thought slowly entered her mind.

With Manorama confined to a bed...

...she would no longer be able to object strongly if Akash wished to marry Payal.

Manorama had always been vocal about family status, traditions, and social standing. Now, even if she disagreed, she couldn't speak.

Madhumati hated herself for thinking it.

But she could not deny the selfish relief that accompanied the thought.

"...maybe at least something good will come from this tragedy."

The thought lingered in her mind, leaving her disturbed yet somehow relived by how easily guilt and self-interest could exist side by side.

------------------------------------------

Ever since Manorama had been brought back to Shantivan, everyone had adjusted their routines around her.

The accident had left her completely bedridden. She had also lost her speech. Although she could understand everything happening around her, she could no longer respond verbally. She communicated through her eyes, small movements of her hands, facial expressions and, when she had enough strength, the writing board kept beside her bed.

Khushi had made it a habit to check on her every day.

Every morning, she would enter Manorama's room with a smile.

"Maami, good morning. How are you feeling today?"

Manorama would look toward her and blink.

Khushi had gradually learned to understand her expressions.

"Pain hai?"

Manorama would give a small nod.

Khushi would immediately adjust her pillows and call the nurse if necessary.

"Maami. Aapko comfortable kar dete hain."

She would sit beside her for some time, talk to her about the happenings in Shantivan and sometimes simply hold her hand.

Even though Manorama couldn't answer, Khushi never treated the silence as a barrier.

She continued talking to her as though nothing had changed.

Payal had also started visiting almost every day from the Gupta house.

She would often bring something homemade.

And Anjali had been coming regularly ever since Manorama had been brought back to Shantivan.

Shivaay would often accompany her, especially in the evenings after his work.

It had become almost routine.

Manorama lay quietly in the middle of them, listening to everyone.

She couldn't speak.

She couldn't walk.

But she was surrounded by people who refused to let her feel alone.

Khushi held her hand.

Payal adjusted her blanket.

Anjali stroked her forehead.

Shivaay stood nearby, making everyone laugh with some silly comment.

For Manorama, these ordinary moments had become precious.

And for the family, caring for her had slowly become part of everyday life.

--------------------------------------------------------

Tripti had been sitting alone in her room.

She was thinking about Manorama's accident.

She knew something the rest of the world didn't.

Sr. Jha had wanted Arnav dead.

He had planned the accident deliberately, believing that Arnav would be the one driving the car.

But somehow, Manorama had ended up using the car that day.

"Oh God..."

Her mind immediately went back to the conversations she had once had with Sr. Jha.

She remembered knowing that something terrible was being planned.

She remembered convincing herself that it wasn't her responsibility.

She had allowed her anger and her own complicated feelings about Shivaay to cloud her judgment.

But now an innocent woman was lying bedridden because of it.

Tripti covered her face with her hands.

"What have I done?"

For the first time, the consequences of her silence felt real.

She hadn't physically planned the accident.

And she had done nothing.

That knowledge was eating her alive.

She stood up and began pacing around the room.

"I have to tell someone."

Her thoughts immediately went to Shivaay.

Tripti knew Shivaay would understand the seriousness of what she was saying.

Maybe he could protect Arnav.

But there was another fear.

What if Shivaay hated her?

What if he asked why she had remained silent?

What if he told everyone?

Tripti sat down again.

For several minutes she stared at her phone.

She opened her contacts.

Her thumb stopped over Shivaay's name.

She hesitated.

Then she locked the phone.

A few minutes passed.

She picked it up again.

"Just call him," she whispered to herself.

Again, she put it down.

Her heart was racing.

Finally, after thinking about it for what felt like an eternity, Tripti took a deep breath and dialed Shivaay's number.

The phone rang.

Tripti held her breath.

But then the call ended.

Call Failed.

She frowned.

She tried again.

This time, the call didn't even connect.

She looked at the screen.

Not Reachable.

Tripti's anxiety increased.

"Why isn't his phone connecting?"

She tried once more.

Nothing.

Tripti lowered the phone slowly.

Maybe he was in a meeting.

Maybe his phone was switched off.

Maybe he was somewhere with no network.

But a small voice inside her told her not to give up.

She stared at Shivaay's name on the screen.

"I have to tell you, Shivaay."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Before it's too late."

And she certainly didn't know that Sr. Jha had already taken precautions to ensure that anyone who knew too much would have difficulty getting close to the truth.

Tripti looked at the phone again.

She would try again later.

This time, she wouldn't let fear stop her.

Love,

ST