𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄

CHAPTER 22

As Prithvi crossed the threshold of his home, the weight of Tara's unconscious body in his arms felt heavier than ever before.

Each step he took was burdened with the urgency of the situation, his usually confident demeanor overshadowed by a deep sense of worry and responsibility.

At the doorway, Kusum, his mother, stood frozen in shock and concern. The warmth and familiarity of her welcoming smile were replaced by wide-eyed alarm as she beheld the sight before her.

Instinctively, her maternal instincts surged to the forefront, driving her to rush forward to meet her son.

"Prithvi, what happened? Is Tara alright?" Kusum's voice quivered with worry as she approached, her hands reaching out to offer support.

With great care and tenderness, Prithvi gently laid Tara down on the couch, ensuring her comfort with deliberate movements.

Despite the gravity of the situation, he remained composed, his voice steady as he addressed his mother's concerns.

"She's unconscious, Maa," Prithvi explained, his tone calm yet tinged with an underlying sense of apprehension. "But she seems to be okay for now. We were ambushed by dacoits in the jungle."

Kusum's heart clenched with fear at the mention of dacoits, her mind racing with worry for Tara's safety. Without a moment's hesitation, she sprang into action, drawing upon her years of experience as a caregiver.

"Quickly, get a knife and heat it on the flame until it glows red," Prithvi urged urgently, the urgency in his voice cutting through the tension in the room.

As Kusum's hands trembled with the weight of the situation, she absorbed the gravity of her son's words.

With determination fueled by a mother's love, she swiftly gathered water and medical supplies, her movements purposeful as she prepared to tend to Tara's injuries.

In that moment, as she hurried to Tara's side, Kusum's mind raced with worry and fear. Yet, beneath the turmoil, there was a quiet resolve-a steadfast determination to do whatever it took to ensure Tara's recovery and safety.

As Prithvi meticulously tended to Tara's wounds, his movements were deliberate and gentle, his touch infused with a tender care born out of deep concern.

Kusum hovered nearby, her presence a steady anchor amidst the swirling currents of fear and uncertainty.

With every word of solace and encouragement she offered, her voice resonated with a mother's love and unwavering support, serving as a lifeline for Prithvi in his darkest hour.

Once Tara was settled and her injuries attended to, Kusum's attention shifted to Prithvi, her gaze filled with concern as she noticed the blood seeping from his arm.

With a furrowed brow and a trembling hand, she assisted him in removing his torn shirt, revealing the extent of the wound beneath.

As she worked, her heart ached with a profound sense of helplessness, her eyes brimming with tears at the sight of her son's pain.

"Maa, bring the knife," Prithvi's voice was calm but urgent, a reflection of the gravity of the situation at hand.

Responding to her son's plea, Kusum hastened to fetch the requested tool, returning with a hot red knife and a bowl of cold water and cloth.

Yet, as she approached, her hands trembled uncontrollably, the weight of her own fears and insecurities bearing down upon her with suffocating intensity.

Tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked, a silent testament to the depth of her anguish.

Meanwhile, Padma stood silently in the corner, her impassive gaze fixed upon the unfolding scene.