New Path

I woke up to the smell of antiseptic, my eyes fluttering open to meet the whitewashed walls of a hospital room. The fluorescent lights above felt too bright, like they were determined to pierce straight through my skull. My whole body ached, each limb as heavy as lead.

For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of what had happened. Images of the storm, the forest, and that magnificent elephant flashed through my mind like fragments of a dream. Was it even real?

Before I could dwell on it, the door swung open, and in came my mother. Her face was a mess of worry and relief, and before I could brace myself, she had thrown her arms around me, squeezing so tightly that I thought I’d shatter into pieces.

“Oh, thank God, you’re awake! Do you know how scared I was?!” she cried.

“M-mom,” I croaked, “I’m fine. You don’t need to—”

She pulled back, her eyes red and puffy, and gave me a look that could pierce through steel. “Fine? You fainted in the middle of the forest during a storm! How is that fine?”

I tried to protest, but my throat felt dry, and before I could say more, my father entered. He wasn’t as dramatic as Mom, but his concern was written all over his face. “Vrishti, what were you even doing out there? You had us terrified!”

I didn’t know what to say. What could I even tell them? That I’d followed an old man’s cryptic advice into the forest and found something out of a myth? They’d think I’d lost my mind.

“I don’t know,” I muttered, avoiding their eyes. I couldn't tell them the truth ofcourse, I would definitely be thrown into the mental patient ward. But lying is a bad thing. Kids should not do it.But mom wasn’t having it. “Don’t know? That’s your explanation? Vrishti, you—”

“Let her rest,” Dad interrupted gently. “She’s clearly exhausted.”

She sighed but didn’t argue further, just muttering about how reckless I was as she smoothed my blanket.

I spent the next few days in the hospital trying to piece everything together. At times, I’d convince myself it had all been a fever dream. But then, the memory of that elephant—its presence, its majesty—would flood back, and I’d feel this strange pull in my chest. It was real. I didn’t know how or why, but it was.

When I was finally discharged, I expected life to go back to normal. Oh, how wrong I was.

At home, things were anything but normal. Mom hovered over me constantly, acting like I’d break apart if I so much as stepped outside. Dad, who was usually quieter, was suddenly more talkative and present. I should’ve been annoyed by their overprotectiveness, but a part of me couldn’t blame them.

That evening, as I sat on the couch, trying to process everything, Mom and Dad called me to the dining table. Their expressions were...odd.

“We need to talk,” Mom started, looking nervous.

“About what?” I asked, suspicious.

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“It’s about how you ended up in the hospital,” Dad said. “You should be thankful Mr. OM found you and brought you to the hospital.”

I froze. "Mr OM? My Teacher? And how do they know that name? I am sure I have not told them anything about him." I thought to myself.

“You didn’t tell us you were interested in archaeology,” Mom said, smiling a little too brightly. “If we’d known, we would’ve supported you fully.”

“Archaeology? What are you even talking about? I’m not—”

“Oh, no need to be shy,” she interrupted. “It’s a great field! If you’re passionate about it, you should pursue it wholeheartedly.”

“I am not interested in archaeology!” I exclaimed, baffled. “Where are you even getting this idea from?”

Mom waved me off like I didn’t know what I was saying. “Your teacher seemed very impressed with you. He said you had potential.”

“What teacher?!” I repeated, feeling like I was losing my mind.

Before she could answer, she dropped another bombshell. “Oh, by the way, you should get ready. Your master is coming to discuss your future education.”

“Master? Education? What are you even talking about?!”

“Don’t be dramatic,” she said. “He’ll be here any minute. Go freshen up.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue, so I just sat there, fuming. This so-called "master" better have some good explanations.

It was dinner time when the doorbell rang. Mom practically sprinted to open it.

“Hello, nice to see you again,” she greeted warmly. “Please come in. Vrishti’s here, too.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to be here.”The voice,so familiar that it annoys me the moment it falls into my ear.

No. No way.No actual way this is happening!!

Mom walked into the living room, and behind her came him. The old man.

“You old geezer!” I shouted, springing to my feet. "What have you been telling my parents about me? Are you really seni-" I shouted to be interrupted by my ma.

“Vrishti! Be respectful!” She scolded.

“But, Mom, he’s—”

“Sit down and behave,” she snapped.

The old man chuckled. “Oh, don’t be too hard on her. She’s got spirit, this one.” He turned to me with that infuriating smile. “Nice to see you again, little girl.”

We all sat down—my parents on one couch, and the old man,I call "Mr. Om," on the other. I sat stiffly, glaring at him, while my parents listened intently to whatever nonsense he had to say.

“As I mentioned before,” he began, “Vrishti has a natural talent for archaeology. She has the drive and determination needed for the field.”

What talent? I thought angrily. What drive? You tricked me into going to that forest, and I nearly got myself killed!

"I want her to attend a university and pursue formal education in archaeology,” he continued. “After that, I can take her under my wing, and she can either work with my team or go independent.”

“Mr. Om, I don’t know where you’re coming from, but I have zero interest in any of this—”

“Are you not interested in finding the roots of what you witnessed?” he interrupted, his voice calm but pointed.

I froze, my eyes widening. “You don’t mean...”

“Yes,” he said simply.

To my parents, he explained, “I was here on a research project when I met Vrishti. She seemed interested, so I gave her a few clues, and she actually got results. That’s why I believe she has potential. I’m even willing to sponsor her education if necessary.”

Mom looked like she might cry. “No, no, please don’t bow your head to us. If anything, we should be thanking you. I’m ashamed to admit that, as her parents, we never truly understood her dreams and aspirations. We were only burdening her more and more. But to know that someone believes in her and wants to support her...I can’t thank you enough.” She bowed her head.

“Mom...” I whispered, feeling a strange mix of emotions.

Dad spoke up next. “My wife already said it all, but I want to add that I, too, regret not seeing Vrishti’s potential earlier. I only added to her struggles instead of supporting her. Please help her get into a good university. I’ll do everything I can to back her.”

“Dad...”

The old man smiled. “See, little girl? Isn’t it nice to have such loving parents?”

I didn’t respond, too overwhelmed to say anything. I could feel my eyes get watery but that doesn't mean I was crying, I was not, you understand, I was not!!

“Don’t worry,” he added. “I’ll make sure she gets the best opportunities. I have a friend in the Patliputra University, he said he can she can directly get in as there is a lack of students in the archeology department."

"Thank you so much, Mr OM, we can never repay you for your kindness." My dad said in a passive tone.

They even had me bow my head and thank him.

This is all of the important events that have occurred since the last time. Why am I narrating in the past tense you ask? Because it's already happened ofcourse.

What I am doing currently? Well try guessing it. Try-try.

Let me tell you, I am boarding the plane to Patliputra !!!