Capítulo 15: 15."AMRIT"
As my mother was about to continue the story of my birth, my father suddenly interrupted her, his tone firm but gentle. "Deepa, that's it for today. We'll continue this story some other time."
Hearing this, I turned to him, puzzled. "Why later and not now?" I asked, curiosity evident in my voice.
My father met my gaze and said, "It's already time for dinner, and I am hungry." He gave my mother a significant look, as if silently asking her to refrain from divulging more. Seeing this, my mother nodded in agreement. Together, they stood up and began making their way to the dining table. Anu and Bheeshma followed them, the earlier excitement now shifting to the anticipation of the evening meal.
But I remained seated, my mind racing with thoughts about the story my father had just shared. 'Papa is hiding something from me,' I thought, a sense of unease settling over me. 'There is definitely more to this. Could this world possibly have supernatural elements? And what about my tattoo? Could it be connected to something bigger?'
As these questions swirled in my mind, my father's voice cut through my thoughts. "Krishna, come here for dinner!"
"Coming," I responded, standing up reluctantly. I made my way to the dining table, my thoughts still consumed by the mysteries surrounding my birth.
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"POLAND, EUROPE"
"BASE OF A SECRET SOCIETY"
The large mansion, shrouded in an air of mystery and secrecy, stood in a remote part of Poland. Inside, a grand meeting room buzzed with tension and urgency. The room was filled with people from various corners of the world—Russians, Chinese, Africans, Indians, and more—each representing a unique part of the globe. They sat around a long table, their faces illuminated by the glow of a projection at the front of the room. The image displayed was of Krishna's foot tattoo, a mark that held more significance than its bearer could ever fathom.
At the center of the table, presiding over the meeting, was a man who looked like a priest, his demeanor calm but his eyes burning with intensity. He turned to a man standing beside him and spoke in a measured tone, "Greyerson, any update?"
Greyerson, a tall and imposing figure with sharp features and a stern expression, stepped forward. "We are searching for the Guardian in many countries, but we have been unable to locate him," he reported, his voice steady despite the mounting pressure.
The priest's face darkened with anger. "You are unable to find him? Why is this happening? It's been twenty-one years. We do not have much time, Greyerson. The AMRIT is going to emerge in a few years, and the Guardian will come to protect it. If we do not find him, we will never be able to get the AMRIT."
Greyerson's jaw tightened, his frustration evident. "Do you think I am just sitting here doing nothing? I am searching for him in every country, but we haven't found a single clue."
The priest let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the task ahead. "What about the Seven Protectors? Did you find any of them?"
Greyerson's expression softened slightly. "We have found some clues about them, but our priority is the Guardian and Shivanand's son, the first protector, Rudra."
A murmur of interest swept through the room. One of the members, a woman with piercing blue eyes, leaned forward. "And did you find him?"
In response, Greyerson pressed a button on a remote, changing the projection to display a photo of a young man. "Yes, but we cannot capture him now. We have to wait until he finds the other protectors or the Guardian."
The members around the table nodded in understanding, recognizing the strategic patience required. Another member, an older man with a thick accent, asked, "And what about the NAGAS? Did you try to contact them?"
Greyerson nodded, his expression confident. "We are attempting to make contact with them, but it takes time. However, I am sure they will accept our proposal in the end. After all, they seek the AMRIT as much as we do."
The room fell silent as the members processed this information. The quest for the AMRIT, a mythical elixir said to grant immortality, was fraught with peril and required careful maneuvering. The Guardian and the Seven Protectors were critical pieces in this puzzle, and finding them was of utmost importance.
The priest broke the silence, his voice calm but commanding. "We must remain vigilant and continue our efforts. The Guardian and the Protectors are out there, and we must find them before time runs out. Our future depends on it."
The members nodded in agreement, their resolve strengthened by the priest's words. They understood the gravity of their mission and the stakes involved. Each person in the room had their own reasons for seeking the AMRIT, but they were united by a common goal. As the meeting concluded, they dispersed to continue their global search, driven by a sense of urgency and a shared determination to succeed.
As Greyerson left the room, he couldn't shake the image of the young man from his mind. Rudra was out there, and finding him could be the key to unlocking the mysteries of the Guardian and the AMRIT. The search was far from over, but Greyerson was more determined than ever to see it through to the end.
(A/N:Hello everyone, don't worry, I'm not going to get into this story too soon.)
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"BACK TO KRISHNA"
After enjoying our dinner, we settled back onto the sofa in the living room. My father switched on the news channel, and we watched as the anchor delivered updates on the latest happenings. A particular segment caught our attention.
"Miss Vasundhara is now vying for the seat of Minister of Law with the support of her political party, Jana Dalam Party. The elections are drawing near, and Mr. Venkata Swamy is fully backing his daughter, Miss Vasundhara," the anchor announced.
Hearing this, my father turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "Did Venkata Swamy call you for funding?" he asked, his tone carrying a mix of curiosity and concern.
I shook my head. "Not yet, but I expect his call soon, just like the past two years."
My father's expression darkened slightly. "Why do you even fund his useless party? He hasn't done anything good for the public. He's just a criminal."
I sighed, understanding his frustration. "I'm not funding his party because of him. I'm doing it for Aunt Vasundhara and Ramana. I know he dislikes Ramana, and this way, if he tries anything funny, I can threaten to cut off his funding. It's a way to control him."
My father nodded slowly, processing my reasoning. "I just hope Vasundhara does something better than her father," he said, his voice tinged with hope.
I leaned back, thinking about the complexities of our situation. "I'm more worried about when she'll accept Ramana as her son again."
My father sighed heavily, the weight of past regrets and unfulfilled hopes evident in his eyes. "Some things are beyond our control, Krishna."
I nodded, feeling a pang of helplessness. "Yeah, I understand."
We sat in silence for a moment, the hum of the news channel providing a background soundtrack to our thoughts.
After watching the news for a while, we finally decided it was time to sleep. As I made my way to my room, I noticed Anu following me, but I didn't say anything, nor did anyone else. We walked through the quiet house, the evening's discussions and the news fading into the background as the night settled in.
When we reached my room, I seated myself on the sofa in the gallery, trying to relax. The night air was cool and refreshing, and I took a deep breath, enjoying the calm. Anu came near me, a smile playing on her lips. I looked at her, curious. "What is it?" I asked.
In response, Anu extended her hand, revealing my flute. "Can you please play for me? Pretty please?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
I sighed softly, but a smile tugged at my lips. "Alright," I said, taking the flute from her hand.
Anu settled beside me, her excitement palpable. I brought the flute to my lips and began to play. As the first notes filled the air, a sense of peace washed over me. The haunting melody carried away my worries and questions, replacing them with a tranquil lightness. The weariness I had felt moments ago evaporated as the music enveloped us.
Anu, sitting beside me, closed her eyes, lost in the beauty of the tune. The moon shone brightly in the night sky, casting a silver glow over everything. The cold air seemed to dance with the notes of the flute, creating a serene atmosphere that felt almost magical.
When I finished playing, I noticed Anu had fallen asleep, her head resting on my shoulder. I smiled at the sight, feeling a warmth in my heart. Gently, I picked her up in a princess carry, intending to take her to her room.
As I was about to leave, she stirred and murmured, "I want to sleep here."
"But Anu," I started to protest, but before I could finish, she hugged my neck tightly, a gesture of comfort and insistence.
I sighed, realizing she wasn't going to let go. Carefully, I placed her on my bed and lay down beside her. She immediately snuggled close, wrapping her arms around me. I smiled and kissed her forehead, returning her embrace. The room was quiet, the only sound the gentle rhythm of our breathing as we drifted into sleep.
The night was peaceful, the worries of the day forgotten. Holding Anu close, I felt a profound sense of contentment. Despite the mysteries surrounding my birth and the challenges ahead, moments like this reminded me of what truly mattered—family, love, and the simple, beautiful connections we share.
As sleep overtook me, I found solace in the steady rise and fall of Anu's breath, her warmth a comforting presence.
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"INSIDE THE HOUSE OF LAWYER BASAVARAJU SARANGAPANI"
Inside the cozy living room of the Sarangapani household, the soft hum of the ceiling fan mixed with the faint sounds of the evening news playing in the background. Aamukta was lazily sprawled on the sofa, scrolling through her phone. Beside her, her sister was equally engrossed in her own screen.
Suddenly, Aamukta glanced up and noticed her father, Basavaraju Sarangapani, sitting at the dining table, his food largely untouched. He seemed preoccupied, a worried look etched across his face.
Curiosity piqued, Aamukta asked, "Papa, what's wrong? You look worried."
Basavaraju sighed, putting down his fork. "You wouldn't understand, Aamukta. Venkata Swamy wants me to talk to someone and ask for funding because he doesn't want to meet him himself."
"Who are you talking about?" Aamukta asked, her interest growing.
"I'm talking about Krishna Prasad, the CEO of Nirvana Enterprises," Basavaraju replied, his tone heavy with the burden of his task.
The mention of Krishna Prasad's name made Aamukta's eyes light up. She quickly pulled up her phone and typed his name into the search bar. Her sister, noticing her sudden excitement, leaned over to join her. In seconds, images of Krishna filled the screen—handsome, poised, and exuding confidence.
Aamukta smiled brightly and turned to her father. "When are you going to meet him?"
"I haven't thought about it," Basavaraju responded, clearly trying to avoid the subject.
"So can you call him here to meet?" Aamukta suggested eagerly.
"Why should I call him to our house?" Basavaraju asked, his voice a mix of bewilderment and reluctance.
Aamukta's sister chimed in with a teasing grin. "Aamukta has had a crush on Krishna ever since she saw his music video. She really wants to meet him."
Basavaraju raised an eyebrow. "He's making music videos now? Calling him here... I'll think about it. But don't get too fascinated by him. I've heard he's not a nice person."
Aamukta frowned, not wanting to believe her father's words. "But it says here that he's very nice, does a lot of charity work, and even has an NGO called LIFE."
"Don't act childish, Aamukta. You can't believe everything you read online," Basavaraju warned, trying to sound firm but failing against Aamukta's determined enthusiasm.
Ignoring his caution, Aamukta pressed on, "So, are you calling him here or not?"
Basavaraju sighed deeply, feeling cornered. "No, I'm not calling him."
Aamukta turned to her sister with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Go get me a rope."
Basavaraju's eyes widened in alarm. "Why, are you going to commit suicide?"
Aamukta chuckled and shook her head. "No, it's for you."
He let out a heavy sigh, knowing he was beaten. "Alright, alright. I'll call him here."
"Thank you, Papa!" Aamukta said, her face lighting up with a triumphant smile.
As the evening continued, Aamukta couldn't hide her excitement. The thought of meeting Krishna Prasad, someone she had admired from afar, was exhilarating. She began to daydream about their meeting, imagining how it would feel to finally speak to him in person.
Meanwhile, Basavaraju couldn't shake his unease. He knew that involving Krishna in their affairs, even for something as seemingly innocuous as a funding request, could have unforeseen consequences. But seeing the joy on Aamukta's face, he couldn't bring himself to deny her this opportunity.
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