The afternoon felt heavier than usual today.
The sun lingered motionless in the sky—casting one final, weary beam of light across the tired face of the earth before darkness descended.
In the same weary, shattered state, Anurag Sir turned the corner of the lane and slowly made his way home.
Exhausted, broken, and with a heart bleeding inside, he returned after school. His feet dragged with every step, each one weighted by thousands of questions, thousands of regrets.
Sneha…
She had fainted again—hypoglycemia.
And… Priya…
Anurag Sir rang the doorbell with a tired hand.
Anirban Sir opened the door from inside.
One glance was enough to see that something inside Anurag had shattered irreparably today.
Anirban Sir:
"Anurag!"
He stood there, filled with concern.
Anurag Sir stepped inside slowly and sank onto the sofa. He held his head in both hands.
"You know… I'm horrible… absolutely horrible…
Because of me, Sneha suffered again… she fainted again… because of hypoglycemia, my Sneha lost consciousness…"
His voice trembled. Tears shimmered in his eyes.
Anirban sat quietly for a while. Then, letting out a long sigh, he said,
"You're not bad, Anurag. Your heart is too good—that's why you suffer so much… But what I'm about to tell you now…"
Anirban paused.
Anurag lifted his face and looked at him with terrified eyes.
Anirban Sir (in a shaking voice):
"What I'm going to say now… it will hurt you even more… but it has to be said."
Terror filled Anurag's face.
"What is it, Anirban? What do you want to say? Please, tell me!"
After a moment's hesitation, Anirban said,
"Your mother… Mrs. Arundhati Debbarman… she is seriously ill. She's been admitted to the hospital. G.K. Hospital.
I wanted to tell you. But she herself insisted I not say anything. She said you shouldn't worry. But I know you needed to be told."
Anurag froze in an instant. His eyelids trembled.
"What did you say? Ma… Ma is in the hospital?
My mother… is in the hospital?"
Anurag Sir ran out of the house. As though no other thought in the world existed anymore.
Anirban Sir became worried too.
Anirban Sir:
"Anurag, Anurag, wait! I'm coming too."
---
At the hospital, Anurag ran straight toward his mother's cabin.
■ Hospital corridor
The corridor was deathly silent. The blue light of the tube lights washed everything in an eerie sorrow.
Anurag stopped in front of Cabin No. 12.
His hands shook. His feet refused to move.
Anirban Sir came running up behind him.
Anurag Sir pushed the door open and stepped inside.
On the white bedsheet lay a peaceful face—Arundhati Debbarman.
Eyes closed, oxygen mask over her mouth, saline bottle hanging above.
Anurag moved forward slowly and gently took her hand.
Suddenly, her eyes opened.
"Anurag…"
A soft, broken voice.
Anurag burst into sobs. He dropped to his knees beside her bed.
"Ma… I… I'm so bad, Ma… I drove you away, didn't I? I never forgave you… and all this time you were alone… suffering… I didn't know anything…"
Arundhati placed a tender hand on her son's head.
"No, my child… it wasn't your fault… it was mine… I left you… I couldn't make you understand…
Today you came—that is my greatest blessing."
Anurag looked up. Tears streamed down his face.
"Ma… please… don't leave me again, Ma… When you left me before, it hurt so much…"
Arundhati slowly closed her eyes. She continued stroking his head gently.
A calm, quiet tear glistened at the corner of her eye.
And Anurag… bowed his head and whispered,
"I'm bad… very bad, Ma… but please… don't leave me again…"
---
Standing nearby, Anirban Sir wiped tears from his own eyes.
He watched a broken bond being mended before him—a mother and son healing their separation.
The tears in his eyes were not only from sympathy…
They carried the bloody memory of his own emptiness.
"How many times have I thought—one day someone will hold me like this too… someone I can call 'Ma.'
But I have no one. No mother, no father… since childhood, I've only moved forward shoulder to shoulder with others, never with a gentle hand on my head.
Seeing this scene today… I wish I had someone like that too…"
He let out a quiet, long sigh.
He stood silently, watching…
Before his eyes was only that sight—a boy crying while holding his mother's hand… and the mother, eyes closed, stroking his head with love.
A mother's affection… something Anirban had never received in his life.
---
The next day, at school…
The clock showed just before 9 a.m. The school grounds were busy as always—girls heading to their classrooms, teachers walking toward the staff room, somewhere a fan whirring, somewhere a bell ringing.
Anurag Sir's cabin.
He had spent the entire night at the hospital by his mother's side. At dawn, she had insisted he go to school.
But this morning felt anything but normal to Anurag Sir. Worry for his mother still gnawed at him.
And beneath it all, a quiet guilt, remorse, and overwhelming anxiety were devouring him.
He had already heard the previous day—Sneha had fainted again. Her sugar level had dropped dangerously low. Hypoglycemia.
He felt it wasn't just a physical issue—it was the collapse of her body under the weight of her mind's sorrow.
But what tore at his chest most was… what Sneha had seen through the crack of his cabin door…
He knew it would bring terrible misunderstanding.
So he had already come to school early and clarified the rumor Priya had spread—that she was his fiancée—making it clear it was false.
---
Around 10:20 a.m.
Sir was still lost in thought—
"She fainted… unconscious… hypoglycemia… I… I'm responsible…"
Would Sneha come to school today?
His eyes kept flicking to the clock.
---
Sneha had come to school today, but she seemed completely broken.
She had always been quiet, but today there was nothing left to say.
Her eyes were dull, her face pale and shadowed. She spoke to no one. Made eye contact with no one.
Even when classmates asked, she only said—
"I'm fine."
But none of her classmates knew—she was anything but fine.
To be continued...