RANJISH

23. Reality Check (Part- II)

Aru sadly - i m sorry bhaiyu... sorry ayu but me yaha ab aur nahi reh sakta  bht bar mauke diye khudko bht lar lia ab aur nahi larna mujhe khudk liye ya kisike liye ... me thak chuka hu ab mujhe dur hona h insab se ...shayed shayed mere kismat me bhai ka pyaar kabhi likha he ni tha

He swung his legs over the bed, forcing himself to stand. He took a staggering step toward the closet, his mind set on one goal: escape before Armaan could inflict any more damage

Meanwhile in the kitchen....

The house chiefs were standing apart  as armaan was cooking

Chiefs - Sir ap order kijiye na hum karlenge

Armaan was cooking and he said - No..  tum bas mujhe Haldi or  hing ka dabba nikal k do... and wheres the shahi jeera...

Chief was giving him everything he wanted

Armaan was standing over the stove, the head chef nervously hovering nearby. He wasn't preparing any exotic gourmet item; he was meticulously stirring a simple, comforting pot of Dal Chawal

He had started with the intention of making the turmeric broth, but his hands, operating on some deep, subconscious programming, had switched to making the simple, nourishing lentil soup, thickened and seasoned perfectly.

Chief Chef: (Watching Armaan's focused stir) Sir, Dal ki khushboo toh bohot acchi aa rahi hai. Aap yeh kabhi banate kyun nahi?

The chef's question jolted Armaan. He looked down at the simmering, comforting yellow liquid. He suddenly realized he wasn't making turmeric broth; he was making the special, slightly smoky, tempered dal a dish he hadn't made, or even thought about making, in over two decades.

He didn't know why he made it, but his instincts just told him that this was the food that was needed...

Armaan didn't reply to the chef. He simply transferred a small portion of the steaming dal and perfectly cooked rice onto a clean plate. The familiar, humble scent of the comfort food filled the air.

He picked up the plate, the warmth seeping into his fingers. This was his peace offering.

He then left the kitchen, resolute. He wouldn't apologize yet; he would first nourish the boy he had hurt.

Armaan walked into the room, the plate of warm Dal Chawal clutched tightly in his hand. He was prepared for rejection, prepared for anger, but he was not prepared for the sight that greeted him.
The bedcovers were thrown back carelessly, and the corner of the sheet was stained red where Aru had ripped out the IV. The small bag Aru had been struggling with was missing.

Armaan found him nowhere.

First, he felt a flicker of confusion. He checked the washroom instinctively, but the door was open, and the room was empty.

Suddenly, Armaan’s relief from seeing Aru awake earlier evaporated, replaced by a cold, sharp dread. Armaan’s heart palpated. He realized Aru hadn't been resting; he had been planning his escape...

He dropped the plate of food onto the nearby table with a clatter and immediately rushed out, heading straight for Abhi and Ayu’s room, or wherever he thought his family might be.
He found Abhi and Ayu in the main hallway.

Abhi: (Seeing Armaan's panicked, wild-eyed state) Bhai? Kya hua? aap itne ghabraaye hue kyun ho?

Armaan: (His voice strained and rough with rising fear) Woh... woh Aransh. He isn't in his room.

That simple statement "He isn't in his room" delivered with Armaan’s unusual desperation, instantly froze everyone. Abhi's face went pale, and Ayu's eyes widened in horror.