Authors Pov:

Vishwanath felt his heart sink as he listened to his friend's pain. Ekansh's trembling voice, the sorrow in his eyes, the helpless love for his granddaughter — it was enough to break anyone's heart. For a moment, Vishwanath simply watched him, his chest heavy with guilt and compassion.

Finally, he leaned forward, his voice firm yet tender.
"Ekansh... after your death, before your death — whenever that time comes — I swear I won't let you, or Gatha, or Geeta be alone. Tell me... can we get Gatha married to Siddharth?"

Ekansh's eyes widened in shock. His hands shook as he set down his teacup. "What are you saying? Don't you think it will be a bad idea? She... she can't walk. Your boy deserves someone who—"

Before he could finish, Vishwanath raised his hand. His eyes shone with unshakable conviction.
"He is my grandson. My flesh and blood. Siddharth will never deny the order given by his Dadu. And more than that, he deserves a girl like Gatha — a girl with strength, with dreams, with a heart that doesn't give up."

Ekansh's eyes filled with tears. His hands instinctively moved to touch his friend's feet, overcome with gratitude. But Vishwanath quickly stopped him, pulling his arm away with mock irritation.
"One more time you do that, and you'll hear nothing but taunts from me for the rest of your life," he said with a playful glare.

Both men laughed through their tears. Old friends, bound once by childhood, now found themselves bound by something even stronger — the promise of a shared future for their grandchildren.

They embraced tightly, their hearts lighter than before, and decided that their friendship would now turn into a sacred relationship.
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At Gath's house

Authors POV:

That night, the house was quiet. Geeta sat at her dressing table, applying her hand cream before bed. She braided her long hair slowly, the silver strands glistening in the dim light of the lamp. Ekansh stood by the doorway for a moment, watching her. There was worry etched across his face, a heaviness in his chest that refused to leave.

Finally, he walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. "Geeta... I've taken a decision," he began softly. "It may be tough, but you must hear it."

Geeta paused, her fingers freezing in the braid. She turned to him, her brows knitting with unease. "What decision?" she asked, her voice tense.

Ekansh's hands trembled slightly as he spoke. "We are sixty now. Time is running faster than we want to believe. By the time Gatha becomes a doctor, four or five years will have already passed. And life..." he paused, swallowing hard, "...life is so unpredictable. My sugar reports came yesterday. The numbers are high again."

His voice cracked. He looked down, ashamed of the weakness creeping into him.

Geeta sighed deeply, her eyes soft but tired. "So what? I've had kidney problems for years. I had them before, I have them now. Major or minor, it doesn't matter anymore. We've survived worse."

Ekansh's eyes lifted to hers, brimming with helpless love. "But Geeta... what about Gatha? After we are gone, who will protect her? Our relatives are not so kind. I know them. They will not let her live in peace. They will make her beg for every little thing."

His voice broke, his shoulders trembling. "I cannot watch her life be destroyed. That's why... I've taken a decision. I will get her married."

Geeta's eyes widened in shock. She set her braid aside, her voice rising with worry.
"In which house, Ekansh? Do you even realize what you're saying? Why would anyone accept her? And if someone does come forward, it would only be for her property... for our surname. You know this better than I do!"

Her words trembled with fear, not anger. Beneath the sharpness in her tone was only the aching love of a grandmother terrified for her granddaughter's future. Tears glistened in her eyes as she whispered, "I cannot let Gatha fall into the hands of people who would see her as a burden."

Ekansh reached for her hand, his grip firm. "Geetu... I would never let that happen. Today I met an old friend — Vishwanath Thakur. Do you remember him?"

Geeta blinked, surprised, nodding faintly.

"He came with a promise," Ekansh continued. "He wants Gatha to marry his grandson, Siddharth. He is a bright, intelligent boy — already in his second year of medicine. More importantly, he is being raised by his Dadu, who loves him more than life itself. Vishwanath has given me his word. Gatha will not be alone, nor will she be treated as a burden. She will be his pride, just as she is ours."

Geeta's heart raced. Her worry did not vanish, but the firmness in Ekansh's voice brought a fragile thread of comfort. She closed her eyes, pressing her palms together. "If this is truly God's will... then may He bless it."

Ekansh placed his hand on hers, silently sealing the decision that would change the course of their granddaughter's life forever.

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Morning

Morning sunlight streamed softly through the curtains. As always, Geeta tended to Gatha with quiet devotion. Today was her hair-wash day. She carefully washed her granddaughter's long hair, massaged her scalp, and wrapped it gently in a soft towel. Then, with practiced hands, she combed it smooth, braided it neatly, and helped Gatha settle into her wheelchair.

Once freshened up, Geeta wheeled her to the dining table. The aroma of warm porridge and milk filled the air. Geeta set the plate before her, but her eyes seemed distant, weighed down with thoughts she had not spoken yet.

Gatha noticed. "Dadi, is everything alright?" she asked softly.

Before Geeta could reply, Ekansh entered, his face lined with a heaviness that betrayed his sleepless night. He sat beside his granddaughter and placed his hand gently over hers.

"Beta," he began slowly, his voice thick with emotion, "whatever happens in this world... it happens with God's will."

Gatha frowned, sensing something unusual in his words. "Dadu... what do you mean?"

Ekansh sighed and exchanged a glance with Geeta, who nodded quietly. Then he spoke, his voice trembling. "Yesterday, I received my sugar reports. They were not good. And your Dadi... you know about her kidneys. Life is unpredictable, Gatha. We are not afraid for ourselves... but we are afraid for you."

Tears welled in Gatha's eyes. She tried to blink them back, but her heart sank. "Dadu..." she whispered, her voice breaking.

Ekansh squeezed her hand tighter. "For your better future, we have taken a decision. I have fixed your marriage. Don't worry, my child. We will always be with you, no matter what. This isn't to take you away from us, but to ensure that even after us, you will never be alone."

For a moment, silence filled the room. Gatha's tears slid down her cheeks. She looked at her grandparents — the only parents she had ever known, the only people who had ever loved her unconditionally. Despite the fear in her heart, she saw the love in their eyes and the sacrifice in their decision.

She reached out and held their hands together. "I love you both," she whispered, her voice shaking but firm.

And in that moment, the Adhihotra family sat in silence, bound by love, fear, and the weight of a future that was now already decided.

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In the Thakur house

Sunday morning carried its usual rhythm. The sun filtered softly through the curtains, the faint aroma of tea drifted from the kitchen, and in his room, Siddharth sat bent over his books, scribbling notes with quiet focus.

Vishwanath entered silently, leaning on the doorframe for a moment. He watched his grandson with pride, yet there was a heaviness in his chest that he could no longer keep hidden.

"Studying again?" Vishwanath teased, his voice carrying a playful taunt.

Siddharth looked up, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Dadu, what happened? You don't usually disturb me like this."

Vishwanath stepped closer, his eyes glistening with unspoken emotion. He sat beside Siddharth, placing a trembling hand on his shoulder. "Tell me something, beta. If your Dadu asks you for anything... will you give it to him?"

Siddharth froze, his pen slipping from his fingers. The seriousness in his grandfather's voice startled him. "Of course, Dadu. You know I would. Just tell me what it is."

But Vishwanath shook his head. His lips quivered as he whispered, "No, not just like that. Take a swear on me."

Siddharth's heart raced. He had never seen his Dadu like this. With hesitation, he placed his hand over his chest. "I swear on you, Dadu. Now tell me."

The old man's eyes brimmed with tears. "Marry my best friend's granddaughter, Gatha. She needs you — as a teacher, as a friend, as a husband. She deserves someone who will stand by her."

The words struck Siddharth like thunder. "Dadu... what?" he stammered, his eyes wide in disbelief. Marriage? To a girl he had never met?

He tried to reason, to protest, but Vishwanath was not in the mood to listen. His voice was firm, his decision unshakable. "This is the only wish of your old Dadu. Do not refuse me, Siddharth."

Siddharth's throat tightened. He felt cornered, helpless against the weight of the oath he had just taken. With a heavy heart, he lowered his eyes.

"Yes, Dadu," he whispered. "If this is what you want... I will do it."

Vishwanath pulled his grandson into an embrace, his heart both relieved and burdened. Siddharth, meanwhile, sat frozen — his world of books and quiet dreams replaced in an instant by a future he had never imagined.

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In the Thakur house

That night, Siddharth couldn't focus on his books. The lines blurred on the pages, his pen lay idle, and his mind kept circling back to Dadu's words. Marry my best friend's granddaughter.

He shut the book with a sigh and went to his grandfather's room. Vishwanath was sitting cross-legged on the bed, rosary beads slipping gently through his fingers as he murmured his evening prayers.

"Dadu..." Siddharth's voice was quiet, hesitant.

Vishwanath looked up, a knowing smile on his lips. "Still thinking about what I said?"

Siddharth sat down at the edge of the bed, his brows furrowed. "Why, Dadu? Why are you forcing me into this? You know I trust you, but at least tell me... who is this girl? Why me?"

Vishwanath placed the beads aside and leaned closer. His voice grew soft, heavy with sincerity. "Her name is Gatha. She is Ekansh's granddaughter. Life has not been kind to her, beta. She lost her parents in a car accident years ago. That same accident... left her paralyzed. She cannot walk."

Siddharth's heart skipped a beat. Paralyzed? He stared at his Dadu, speechless.

"She is fragile," Vishwanath continued, his tone almost pleading. "But she is also innocent, pure-hearted. She dreams of becoming a doctor one day, just like you. She is in 12th standard now, preparing for her medical entrance exams. All she needs is someone who will believe in her, stand beside her, and protect her dreams. And I know... only you can do that."

Siddharth lowered his gaze, his chest tight with emotions he couldn't name. Part of him felt sympathy, another part felt fear. How could he marry a girl he didn't know? A girl whose life carried so much pain?

"Dadu..." his voice cracked, "you're asking me to become more than a husband. You're asking me to become her strength."

Vishwanath placed his wrinkled hand on Siddharth's shoulder. "Yes, beta. And I believe you were born for this."

Siddharth sat in silence, the weight of responsibility pressing on him. For the first time in his life, he wasn't just a medical student or a dutiful grandson — he was a man standing at the crossroads of destiny.