A crowd had gathered outside a house in Malviya Nagar, Bhopal. Savitri Devi had passed away early that morning. In the name of family, she had only one daughter — Meera Rajput.
Savitri had been battling a serious illness for many years, and today, taking her last breath, she bid farewell to the world. Meera was 21 years old and in the final year of her college. Savitri’s lifeless body lay in front of her, covered with a white sheet. Tears kept streaming down Meera’s face. The women sitting nearby tried to console her, but the pain of losing a mother could only be understood by Meera herself. Savitri was the only one she had in this world.
Savitri had sent Meera to Indore for her studies, for a reason only she knew. Meera studied at National College in Indore and lived in the college hostel. She was a quiet girl who spent most of her time with books. In college, she had only one friend — Nidhi Vyas, who lived in Indore with her family.
Nidhi and Meera were very good friends. They had completed two years of college together, but even after that, Nidhi barely knew Meera completely. Maybe it was because Meera was introverted, or maybe circumstances had made her mature before time.
This time, Meera had come to Bhopal without informing Nidhi.
The preparations for Savitri’s last rites were complete. When her body was taken away, Meera burst into loud cries. The women tried to hold her back, but she ran outside and said, “I will go too!”
“Girls don’t go to the cremation ground,” an elderly man standing there said.
“I don’t want to hear anything. I will go too,” Meera insisted.
“Let her go, Kaka. Someone close should perform the last rites. And nowadays, what difference is there between a son and a daughter? Let her go,” Vishwanath said from nearby.
Everyone proceeded towards the cremation ground. With tears in her eyes and the fire pot in her trembling hands, Meera walked forward. Her feet felt lifeless. She had spent very little time with her mother. She never understood why her mother had always kept her away. Lost in her thoughts and memories, they reached the cremation ground.
Meera, being the only heir, performed the final rites and lit the pyre herself. It was very difficult to handle her in those moments. Everyone present had tears in their eyes.
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A month later, Meera returned to Indore.
She changed her clothes, picked up her books, and went to college. She met the principal and informed him about her mother’s death. Since Meera was the brightest student in college, the principal approved her one-month leave.
After thanking him, she came outside and sat on a bench, staring at the ground with sad eyes. Just then, a familiar voice reached her ears.
“Oh madam, where were you all these days? No calls, no messages. What’s going on in your mind?”
Meera turned. Nidhi was standing there.
Meera didn’t reply, so Nidhi sat beside her and asked softly, “What happened, Meera? Is everything okay?”
Meera’s eyes filled with tears. Looking down, she said, “Mom is no more, Nidhi.”
“What? When did this happen? And why didn’t you tell me?” Nidhi asked, shocked.
“What would I tell you? I myself didn’t know what pain she was going through. She always kept me away so I wouldn’t know anything… and now she has gone away from me forever,” Meera said, her voice breaking.
Nidhi held her hand and said firmly, “You are not alone, Meera. I am with you. Don’t ever say that again.”
Meera hugged her tightly. Nidhi kept comforting her.
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The next morning, the hostel warden asked Meera to vacate her room. The rent for the past month hadn’t been paid. Meera requested a few more days, but the warden clearly refused.
No one helped her. Meera packed her belongings quietly. Whatever money she had was spent on her mother’s funeral and rituals. In an unknown city, whom could she even ask for help? She was very self-respecting, so she didn’t tell Nidhi about her problem.
She decided to go back to Bhopal.
When Nidhi came to college and didn’t find Meera in class, she asked Ragini, who lived in the same hostel.
“Don’t you know? The warden threw her out today,” Ragini whispered.
“What? Why?” Nidhi asked.
“Because she didn’t pay the rent. Now don’t disturb me,” Ragini said.
Nidhi immediately left for the hostel. She learned that Meera had gone to the railway station.
By the time she reached, the train had already left. Disappointed, she turned back — and then saw Meera sitting quietly on a bench.
Nidhi ran to her.
“What do you think of yourself? Where are you going like this?” she scolded.
“going back… I told Ragini,” Meera said softly.
“And you think I would let you go like this?”
“But what will we do here? The warden threw me out,” Meera said helplessly.
“Come with me. No questions,” Nidhi said, picking up her bag.
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Nidhi brought Meera to her home in Shivaji Nagar.
It was the first time Meera truly looked at the city — clean roads, big houses. She kept staring quietly.
They stopped in front of a large house. The nameplate read: “Vyas House.”
Inside, Nidhi called out, “Mom, Dad, Dadu, Dadi, Bhaiya — come here!”
She introduced everyone — her grandfather Shrinath Vyas, grandmother Surekha Vyas, father Vijay Vyas, mother Radha Vyas, and elder brother Arjun.
Radha looked at Meera with affection. She gently removed a little kajal from her own eye and placed it behind Meera’s ear, saying, “You’re very beautiful. May no evil eye fall on you.”
For the first time after coming, Meera smiled.
Nidhi explained everything to her family and asked, “I did the right thing, right?”
“Of course,” her grandfather said warmly. “A friend stands by a friend in difficult times.”
“make yourself comfortable this is your home,” he told Meera.
Tears filled Meera’s eyes again — but this time, they weren’t just of sorrow.
After lunch, Nidhi showed her the house. It was beautiful and well-organized. Downstairs were her grandparents’ room, a prayer room with a big idol of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati, the kitchen, dining area, and her parents’ room. Upstairs were three rooms and a hall.
One room was Arjun’s, one was Nidhi’s, and another room had a nameplate:
“Akshat Vyas – A Complicated Boy”
Meera looked at it and softly said, “Who keeps such a nameplate?”
And she walked away, unaware that this “complicated boy” was soon going to complicate her simple, silent life in ways she had never imagined…
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