Short Stories – Kumbh Series<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Garvit Agarwal Writer attended a Creative Writing Course by Takhte Writers and Publishers<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n The sun hung low over the Kumbh Mela, casting a warm golden hue across the throngs of devotees gathered along the banks of the sacred Ganges. The air buzzed with chants, laughter, and the rustling of colourful saris flapping in the wind. Pulkit and Ragini moved through the crowd, their hands intertwined but their expressions distant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLook at them, Ragini,\u201d Pulkit said, forcing a smile as he gestured toward a group of children splashing in the water. \u201cSo carefree.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Carefree,” she echoed, her voice tinged with bitterness. \u201cMust be nice.\u201d Her gaze drifted to their son, Akash, who stood a few paces behind them, his eyes wide as he took in the chaos around him. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, a habit that had grown more pronounced in recent months.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Let’s just find a spot,\u201d Pulkit replied, his tone clipped. \u201cWe can\u2019t stay here all day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n As they settled near the ghat, the chanting grew louder, drowning out the silence that had settled between them. They exchanged a glance, a shared understanding of the growing weight of their decision.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Pulkit,” Ragini began, her voice shaking slightly. \u201cAre we really\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n “We have to,\u201d he interrupted, the determination in his eyes hardening. \u201cIt\u2019s for the best.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hours passed, the sun dipping lower, casting long shadows on the ground. Ragini watched as Pulkit knelt beside Akash, who was now fixated on a butterfly fluttering nearby. \u201cHey, buddy,\u201d Pulkit said, his voice softer than before. \u201cWant to chase that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Akash didn\u2019t respond, lost in his world. Ragini felt a pang in her heart but quickly pushed it away. They were here for a reason, after all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u00a0\u201cWe should go,\u201d Pulkit said, rising to his feet. \u201cIt\u2019s time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cPulkit, I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cRagini, we\u2019ve talked about this.\u201d He took a deep breath, his brow furrowed. \u201cWe can\u2019t keep pretending everything is fine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n With a heavy heart, they turned their backs on their son, leaving him by the ghat. \u201cI\u2019ll be right back, Akash,\u201d Pulkit called over his shoulder, though he didn\u2019t look back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As they walked away, Ragini felt the weight of their decision settle in her chest like a stone. The laughter and chanting faded into a dull thrum, replaced by the sound of her heartbeat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Later, as they listened to the preachings of a saint, a shift occurred. The saint\u2019s voice boomed through the crowd, reverberating deep within Ragini. \u201cLove is the greatest sacrifice,\u201d he proclaimed. \u201cTo abandon those we love is to abandon our very souls.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Pulkit stiffened beside her. \u201cDid you hear that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Yes!\u201d she whispered, her heart racing. \u201cWe need to go back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n They rushed back to the ghat, but the crowd had thickened, and panic set in as their eyes searched frantically. \u201cAkash!\u201d Ragini called, her voice rising above the chaos. \u201cWhere are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cStay calm,\u201d Pulkit urged, though his voice trembled. \u201cHe can\u2019t have gone far.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hours turned into days, and the relentless search for their son felt like a nightmare from which they could not wake. Each day, they returned to the ghat, calling his name until their voices were hoarse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Why did we leave him?\u201d Ragini sobbed one evening, her tears mixing with the river\u2019s water as she knelt by the bank. \u201cWhat have we done?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Pulkit sank to the ground beside her, his own eyes brimming with regret. \u201cI thought I was doing the right thing,\u201d he murmured, his voice breaking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Where is he?\u201d She cried, her heart shattered. \u201cWhat if\u2014what if he\u2019s alone and scared?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n They were lost in their remorse, the vibrant colours of the Mela fading into a blur of sorrow. The river flowed steadily beside them, indifferent to their pain, as they clung to the hope that somehow, some way, they would find their son again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Photo Courtesy – Mr Rajesh Balouria by Pixabay<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Short Stories – Kumbh Series Garvit AgarwalLucknow Writer attended a Creative Writing Course by Takhte Writers and Publishers The sun hung low over the Kumbh Mela, casting a warm golden hue across the throngs of devotees gathered along the banks of the sacred Ganges. The air buzzed with chants, laughter, and the rustling of colourful […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1344,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[179],"tags":[366,340,318,311,343],"class_list":["post-1343","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-short-story","tag-kumbh","tag-short-stories","tag-story","tag-story-writing","tag-storybook"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/takhte.in\/VoiceofViews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1343","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/takhte.in\/VoiceofViews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/takhte.in\/VoiceofViews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/takhte.in\/VoiceofViews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/takhte.in\/VoiceofViews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1343"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/takhte.in\/VoiceofViews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1343\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1347,"href":"https:\/\/takhte.in\/VoiceofViews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1343\/revisions\/1347"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/takhte.in\/VoiceofViews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1344"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/takhte.in\/VoiceofViews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1343"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/takhte.in\/VoiceofViews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1343"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/takhte.in\/VoiceofViews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1343"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Lucknow<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n