The Mysterious Friend

Chapter 1 : The First Prophecy

In the hills of Uttarakhand, there was a small village named Gaurikund, a place that seemed to linger in quiet solitude, just before the famous shrine of Kedarnath. In this modest village lived Bholanath, a farmer, along with his wife and young son, Hari. At seven, Hari was already a creature of habit, spending most of his days outdoors, wandering the hills and meadows, or playing with the animals on the farm. His mornings were spent at the village school, and by midday, he returned home for the meal his mother, a woman of simple yet skillful hands, had prepared.

After lunch, it was not uncommon for Hari to slip away, unnoticed by his mother, while his father labored in the fields. The boy was rarely idle. His days were filled with aimless wanderings, a curiosity for the world beyond his home, and the comfort of the land he had yet to fully understand. By evening, when the sun began to fade and shadows stretched long over the fields, he would return, his clothes stained with dust and mud.

After enjoying a hearty meal cooked by his mother, an excellent cook, Hari often slipped away, usually unnoticed by her, while his father worked in the fields. He would return late in the evening, covered in mud and dust.

"How many times have I told you not to go out in the afternoons, Hari? There's so much work here, and I need your help," complained Parvati. "God knows, you never lift a finger to help me. I don't understand what you do, roaming around the village all day."

“Maa, if I stay here, how will I meet my friend? You know he’s the only one I have in the entire village,” Hari replied.

"Again with your friend!" Parvati exclaimed. "I wonder how his parents allow him to spend so much time with you. Doesn't he have homework or household chores to do?"

"Oh, that's not a problem, Maa," Hari chuckled. "Actually, the only task he has all day is waiting for me to come and play with him."

"Well, he must be well taken care of then," said Parvati. "Don’t you dare try to follow in his example. We're not as wealthy as they may be. You are the son of a poor farmer, who works from dawn to dusk to make an honest living. So, don’t get used to this and start helping me—or your father—with the work once in a while."

"Don’t worry, Maa," Hari said with a grin. "My friend told me that soon Baba will have lots of money to last through the next few seasons."

"Ah," Parvati exclaimed. "Now your friend is an astrologer too? Go bring your father in from the fields. It’s getting late, and I’ll have dinner ready by then."

"Okay, Maa. Let me finish my homework first, then I’ll go get Baba." Replied Hari

Under a banyan tree by the farm, Bholanath rested, puffing on a locally made bidi—a hand-rolled cigarette with loose tobacco wrapped in a tendu leaf—after a long day's work. This was his usual spot, lying on a charpai, a traditional Indian bed made of a wooden frame and natural fibers like jute or cotton. As he watched the sunset in silence, he continued to puff on his bidi, the world slowing around him.

It was during this quiet time that Hari would bring him chai from home. The two of them would sit together on the cot, sipping the tea in companionable silence. Bholanath had a lean build, average height, and a boyish face. His high cheekbones and rounded jawline, paired with short, thick, slightly messy hair, gave him a youthful, innocent appearance. He dressed simply, wearing plain shirts and trousers, which reflected the humble life of a village farmer.

"So, what did you talk about with your friend today?" Bholanath inquired.

"My friend said that soon you'll get lots of money, Baba!" Hari said excitedly. "Enough for us for the next few seasons!"

Chapter 2 : The Truth about the Prophecy

It was a beautiful evening; spring had just arrived in Gaurikund, and the flowers were in full bloom. Gaurikund was indeed a picturesque village, nestled between the snow-capped Himalayan ranges and terraced green fields. Streams meandered through the landscape, their crystal-clear waters reflecting the snow-covered peaks. Rhododendrons dotted the valley, and colorful butterflies flitted about, while various species of Himalayan birds chirped happily as the sun set.

The next morning, the family was gathered around the wood-fired oven, sipping tea, when a knock sounded at the door. As Bholanath opened it, the door creaked loudly, the sound echoing briefly through the air. To his surprise, he saw his nephew, Ravi, emerging from the dark shadows of the hut into the soft light of the room.

"Ravi! What a nice surprise!" Bholanath said with a smile.

However, as soon as Bholanath saw Ravi, he noticed the weight of sorrow on his shoulders. Ravi’s face was filled with grief, as though he had been crying all night. Bholanath knew something was wrong.

"What's wrong, Ravi? Come in and sit down," Bholanath said softly, leading him to a nearby stool. Ravi sat down, and Bholanath and Parvati sat on the floor in front of him, clearly concerned.

"She is no more, Mama (Uncle)," Ravi cried. "She passed away the day before yesterday."

Both Bholanath and Parvati felt a lump in their throats as tears welled up in their eyes. It was Bholanath’s sister who had passed away. She was older than him and had always treated him like a son. Although she had grown old, she had remained healthy until winter arrived. It was during the cold months that she fell seriously ill. Bholanath and Parvati had stayed with her to care for her until she had fully recovered and seemed strong enough to make it through the winter. They had been relieved to see her improvement.

"What happened, Ravi? She was fine when we left her," Bholanath asked, his voice full of grief.

"Yes, Mama," Ravi replied, his voice shaking with emotion. "But a week ago, her health started getting worse again. She got a cough and fever. We didn’t have time to inform you or anyone else. The doctor thought it was pneumonia. We all hoped she would get better in a few days, but the cough got worse, and on Monday night, she passed away. She passed away peacefully, Mama," Ravi cried.

As Bholanath sat there, absorbing the sorrowful news, a flood of memories overwhelmed him. He fondly remembered Sheela and the days they spent growing up together. Sheela had been a loving sister, almost like a mother to him. As children, when their mother helped their father in the fields, it was Sheela who took care of Bholanath, playing with him for hours. They would often make things together and even do household chores as a team. They were inseparable until the day Sheela married into a wealthy family from a neighboring village. Bholanath was only eight years old when Sheela left, and he had been devastated, left to spend his time alone while his parents worked. He still remembered the moonlit nights when they would lie on the charpai in the verandah, gazing at the stars, counting them, and occasionally spotting a falling star. Those were the best days of Bholanath's life. Even after her marriage, he would visit Sheela whenever possible.

As the news of Sheela’s passing sank in, the family sat in silence, lost in their thoughts. After some time, Parvati reminded them to eat, as it was well past noon. Though their hearts were heavy, they were all hungry, so Parvati prepared a simple meal for them.

"Mama, you know, Mother left something for you. She asked me to give it to you," Ravi said as he washed his hands at the tap outside the hut.

“Oh?” Bholanath paused. “What is it, Ravi? She has already given so much to me and Parvati, and we can never match the love she gave us..” Bholanath said, his voice filled with emotion.

Ravi entered the hut, wiping his hands on his clothes. He then pulled a cloth from his kurta pocket, which seemed to contain something heavy. Unwrapping the cloth, he revealed four thick bangles made of pure gold.

“These are for you, Mama. Mother told me to give them to you,” Ravi said softly.

“Oh, I can’t take these, Ravi. Please, take them back,” Bholanath said, refusing.

“Mama, Mother knew you’d refuse, that’s why she told me these bangles belong to you. She said, ‘My Bhola is not very clever, Ravi. He doesn’t know how to save for a rainy day, so I used to take money from him. He always thought it was for me and never complained or refused. Tell him his sister knows him well and has saved for his future. He has to take this, as it’s meant for him.’”

Hearing this, Bholanath began to cry like a child. He realized that only a mother could think so far ahead, securing her child's future even after her death. That day, he had truly lost his mother.

Chapter 3 : The Mysterious Friend

The next day, as usual, after returning from school, Hari quickly ate lunch with his mother and slipped away to meet his friend in the afternoon. It had become a routine for him to leave unnoticed and return a few hours before sunset. Although Parvati knew about this, she chose to turn a blind eye, wanting Hari to enjoy his childhood and play in the open fields and valleys. She wasn’t overly concerned about his studies, even though Hari made sure to get good grades in his exams. As their only child, he was cherished and pampered by both parents, who encouraged him to pursue whatever made him happy.

It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon as Hari walked through the fields next to the river, its water as milky as the clouds. Gaurikund, the village nestled in a valley, was one of the most scenic places in the region. Surrounded by layers of mountains, the tallest peaks, capped with snow year-round, stood majestically in the distance. Hari walked through the lush meadows, filled with lilies and butterflies, before beginning a small trek up the mountain. At the summit, a glacial lake awaited, offering a panoramic view of the entire valley and the village below. Hari rushed ahead, panting from the climb, eager to meet his friend.

"Hello, my friend! How are you since yesterday?" Hari asked, spreading his arms wide for a hug.

“Oh, it was a lovely full moon night,” his friend replied, “and as usual, I had the company of many chirping birds and fluttering butterflies. We all missed you! I was telling them how you’ve become my best friend, just like the breeze that always makes me feel happy!”

"Oh, really?" Hari asked, blushing. "I can't wait to see you too! I wait for school to finish so I can run and meet you."

Hari looked down and said, “You know… my aunt is gone. She passed away yesterday. Baba was really, really sad. He cried all night. She was like a mom to him… and to me too. Every time I went to her house, she made my favorite snacks. She was the best cook ever! Her hands had magic! Oh, and her aloo gutke… I ate so many! She loved me a lot… I’m really gonna miss her.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that, Hari,” the friend said. “But, you see, old people die.

“Where do people go when they die?” Hari asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

After a long pause, the reply came: “I can see your aunt, Hari. She’s in a good place and very happy. You don’t need to be sad for her—she’s where she belongs. She was a noble soul, and she will be treated as such. Tell your Baba that his sister is at peace where she is now.”

Later that night, as the family sat down for dinner, Hari shared his friend’s message with Baba, who felt a bit more at ease after resting all afternoon.

“Baba, my friend says Bua is very happy where she is now. He said she was a noble person and that she’s in a good place,” Hari said, his eyes sparkling.

Hearing this, Bhola managed a faint smile as he recalled his sister’s warmth and love. “Yes, she would be,” Bhola replied. “That’s very kind of your friend, Babu.”

Bhola often called Hari "Babu."

“Who is this friend of yours, Babu?” Bhola asked. “What does he do? If he’s not from our village, how did you become friends?”

“He lives up on the mountain, Baba! One day, I’ll take you to see him, and you can ask him yourself!” Hari giggled, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Well, his prophecy was right… about us receiving money. Didi was so thoughtful to save this gold for us. These have been tough times, and this money will certainly help us for a long time. It’s a huge relief,” Bhola said with a sigh.

Looking at Hari with curiosity, he added, “Your friend does seem mysterious, though. I hope he’s not trying to trick you into anything.”

“How could he be tricking him?” Parvati argued. “Thanks to his prophecy, we now have a huge burden lifted off our shoulders. He’s only wished our family well.”

“You’re right, Parvati. Babu, please pass on our gratitude to your friend,” Bhola said.

Chapter 4 : Elections in Gaurikund

A couple of months later, the village of Gaurikund held its panchayat elections. Bhola, well-respected by the villagers, was one of the candidates for the position of sarpanch. He had played a key role in various development projects, including the installation of borewells across the village—an initiative that earned him praise for improving the villagers' lives by ensuring a steady water supply.

However, not everyone was pleased with Bhola’s candidacy. Bipin, the current sarpanch, resented him. A wealthy yet negligent leader, Bipin had held the position for several years but had failed to fulfill his duties. Though the people of Gaurikund wanted him gone, many were too intimidated by his influence to speak out. But this time, the villagers were determined to bring about change.

Bhola had never been politically motivated, but his deep concern for the village’s well-being led him to accept the challenge and stand for election.

It was August, and the elections were just two weeks away. Strong rumors were circulating that Bipin would lose to Bhola this time.

On Monday, as Bhola sat in his courtyard, he saw Bipin approaching his cottage, flanked by four of his men. Bipin was a short, stocky man with a round face, prominent cheeks, thick expressive eyebrows, and a full mustache. Though simply dressed, he always adorned himself with multiple gold chains draped across his neck, his top shirt buttons left open to flaunt his wealth.

“Namaskar, Bhola Dev Ji! Or should I say, the future Sarpanch of Gaurikund?” Bipin said with a slight chuckle, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Bhola bore no malice toward Bipin and considered him a respectful man, despite the villagers often speaking ill of him.

“Namaste, Bipin Ji,” Bhola greeted him warmly. “Please, have a seat. What brings you to a humble man’s cottage?”

Bhola, everyone knows you will be the next Sarpanch of Gaurikund, so let’s not waste time. I’m here to extend a friendly hand and guide you through the challenges our village faces. After all, I’ve been the Sarpanch for ten years—I know a thing or two about how this village runs,” Bipin said.

"Yes, yes, Bipin ji, I’m sure you do. But I’m not entirely certain that I will be the next Sarpanch—let’s wait for the results," Bhola replied.

"Bhola, you are being too modest. I came to invite you to my house this Saturday. Let's sit together and talk about the village's future. I will tell you about the work I have done so you can continue it. If you have time, I can also share some suggestions," Bipin said.

"I don’t want to assume anything, but I gladly accept your invitation. Thank you, Bipin. It’s clear you truly care about the village and its future. No matter the election results, your contribution will always be valuable," Bhola said with enthusiasm.

"I’m very happy, Bhola. Very happy!" Bipin said, getting up from the charpai and hugging Bhola, who embraced him warmly in return. They agreed that Bipin and a few of his colleagues would meet Bhola on Saturday to discuss the village’s development.

Later that night, Bhola felt excited about how the day had unfolded.

"You see, Parvati, Bipin ji is not the monster everyone makes him out to be," Bhola murmured, turning off the lamp before going to sleep.

The next evening, Hari rushed home, panting. He found Bhola and Parvati sitting on a charpai outside, sipping tea. Hari had just returned from meeting his friend.

"Baba, my friend said you shouldn't go meet Bipin Uncle this Saturday!" Hari blurted out, his voice full of worry.

"What? What are you saying?" Bhola asked, his voice now edged with irritation.

"Hari, please explain clearly what your friend said," Parvati urged.

"Baba, today I told my friend about the elections and how Bipin Uncle invited you to his house on Saturday. After a long silence, my friend told me to warn you not to go. He said that if you visit Bipin ji, something terrible will happen to you," Hari explained.

"Oh, that’s nonsense. The whole village knows I’m visiting Bipin. He’d be a fool to try anything. Besides, I’m not going alone—Rinku and Praveen will be with me. So there’s nothing to worry about. Tell your friend I can’t go back on my word to Bipin. I’ll go as planned," Bhola said firmly.

"But… but—" Hari interrupted, his voice filled with worry.

"No 'buts.' My decision is final," Bhola said firmly.

Parvati listened in silence, her concern deepening. Bhola’s reasoning was sound—after all, the whole village knew about the visit, and he wouldn’t be going alone. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that a prophecy from Hari’s friend had come true before. She knew that once Bhola made up his mind, it was hard to change it, so she chose not to argue further.

Chapter 5 : Crisis.....Averted?

Saturday arrived, and the meeting with Bipin was set for 11 a.m. Rinku and Praveen reached Bhola’s cottage at 9 a.m., and the three of them set off for Bipin’s house. The path wound through a dense forest filled with tall deodar trees and wild shrubs. Although the region around Gaurikund was home to wild animals like leopards and bears, it was late in the morning, so the risk of an animal attack was minimal.

Halfway down the path, Bhola was overcome by a sudden dizziness. His head swam, his vision blurred, and a heavy weight settled over him. His muscles stiffened, resisting his every movement. Disoriented and unsure of his footing, he knew he could go no farther. He sank onto the ground, clutching his head as it reeled, the world around him twisting like a whirlwind. His thoughts grew muddled, his strength drained—it was clear he was in no state to continue.

"Friends, something is wrong with me. I can't see properly, my head is spinning, and I feel really dizzy," Bhola said, looking like he was about to lose control of his body.

The three men decided to wait for a while, hoping Bhola’s condition would improve. After a few minutes, Rinku noticed a dilapidated hut across a small stream, just a few yards ahead. With no other option, they helped Bhola to the hut, which, though abandoned for a long time, was still sturdy enough for a brief rest. Inside, they found a wooden table and an earthen pot with a glass placed on top. They gently seated Bhola, who was still struggling to regain his senses, while Rinku went to the stream to fetch some water for him.

After drinking a glass of water, Bhola spoke in a weak voice.

"Brothers, I don't think I can join you today. It's best if you both go ahead and attend the meeting. You can pick me up on your way back. I'll rest here for a while." Said Bhola.

"Oh, don't be silly, Bhola! We can't leave you here like this," Praveen said.

Struggling to sit up, Bhola fell back onto the wooden plank, his speech slurring and his body growing weaker by the moment.

"Jusssst gooo... I’m... I’m fine here... no need to fuss," Bhola murmured weakly.

Rinku and Praveen exchanged glances, both uncertain about what to do. They had known Bhola since childhood, and now, both were in their late forties. Rinku was tall and thin, with sharp features and large eyes, always wearing a traditional cap and kurta. Praveen, on the other hand, was slightly plump, a bit taller, with a round face, thick eyebrows, and eyes that often held a mix of humor and sincerity.

"What do we do now?" Rinku asked, his face tense and sweaty from the effort of helping Bhola to the hut. By then, Bhola was nearly unconscious.

"We can't leave him here alone. What will I say to Parvati?" Praveen said, looking worried. "Rinku, you go to Bipin's house and let him know we need to postpone the meeting. I'll stay here and take care of Bhola. Hopefully, he'll feel better in a few hours, and then I'll bring him back."

"That sounds like a good idea, Praveen. I'll go tell Bipin and hope he understands," Rinku said.

With a quick nod, Rinku set off for Bipin’s house, leaving Praveen to look after Bhola.

It wasn't until evening that Bhola finally regained consciousness and groggily woke up.

"Oh no, my head hurts like it's being hit with a hammer. How long was I asleep? What happened to the meeting with Bipin?" Bhola mumbled, still confused.

"You’ve been asleep for seven hours. It's almost sunset," Praveen said. "We need to leave if we want to get home before dark. I sent Rinku to inform Bipin, so the meeting should be postponed. It's strange that he hasn’t returned yet. Maybe he thought we took the shortcut and left earlier."

"Yes, let's go, Praveen. I feel much better now... but I'm really hungry! I have no idea what happened to me—this has never happened before," Bhola said, trying to stand up.

As they neared the village and descended the small hill through the forest, they saw a large group of villagers gathered outside Bhola’s cottage.

Someone in the crowd recognized them and shouted, "Look! Bhola and Praveen are back!"

The villagers erupted in cheers as Parvati rushed out of the cottage, followed closely by Hari.

"Oh, Bhola! Thank God you're safe!" Parvati said, wiping her tears. Her face clearly showed her relief.

"What’s going on? Why are all these villagers here?" Bhola asked, confused.

"They thought you had died," Parvati said, her voice trembling.

"Dead? Why would they think that?" Bhola asked, shocked.

“Haven’t you heard?” Parvati went on, breathing heavily. “Rinku was attacked on his way to Bipin’s house. They found him in the forest, unconscious, covered in bruises and bleeding.

Someone from the village saw him and ran to get help. People think dacoits robbed him and took his gold chain, but I can’t stop thinking Bipin had something to do with it.”

“Oh no, that’s terrible! How is he now, Parvati? Please tell me he’s alright,” Bhola said, his voice full of worry.

“He’s badly hurt—lots of bruises and a few broken bones. But they say he’s going to make it. He just needs time to heal. The villagers are looking after him. He’s still unconscious, but he’s not in danger anymore,” Parvati said, her voice trembling. “When they couldn’t find you and Praveen, everyone feared the worst and came here to see if you’d returned. We were all so scared… but I’m so glad you’re safe.” She wiped the tears from her face, looking pale and shaken.

“Thank God Rinku’s going to be okay. I don’t think I could’ve forgiven myself if anything had happened to him,” Bhola said, clearly relieved.

“But where were you, Bhola? What happened? You look so tired,” Parvati asked, worry written all over her face.

“Come inside, Parvati. I’m completely worn out from everything that happened today. I’ll tell you everything,” Bhola said, signaling the villagers to head back to their homes and saying goodbye to Praveen. It had been a long, exhausting day, and with Hari’s hand in his, Bhola stepped into his house.

The three of them sat down to dinner in silence. Bhola was too exhausted to speak, and the others sensed that it wasn’t the time for conversation. After dinner, Bhola retired for the night, immediately falling into a deep sleep. As he lay resting, Parvati and Hari exchanged a look—both relieved, yet troubled by the events of the day.

Chapter 6 : The Second Prophecy

The next morning, as he sipped his chai, Bhola recounted the whole ordeal to Parvati, who listened carefully. Behind the charpai, Hari sat quietly, eyes wide with curiosity, eager to hear every word.

“So you see, if I hadn’t fallen sick on the way, I could’ve been hurt—or worse—by those dacoits. It’s strange, though. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. It almost felt like I was under the effect of bhang or something,” Bhola said, thinking back on the strange turn of events.

Parvati and Hari exchanged amused glances, and a mischievous smile slowly spread across their faces.

“Why are you both smiling like that?” Bhola asked, looking puzzled.

Parvati hesitated for a moment, then finally said, “Bhola, please don’t be upset, but we have something to tell you.”

“No, don’t worry. I won’t get angry. Just tell me,” Bhola said, reassuring her with a calm voice.

“Well,” Parvati began cautiously, “Hari told his friend that you were determined to go to the meeting even after the warnings. His friend suggested picking some leaves and flowers from a nearby tree and giving them to you before you left. We thought it was some sort of herbal medicine, so we mixed it into your tea. We had no idea it was actually bhang.”

There was a long silence as Bhola looked at both of them, then slowly, a smile began to spread across his face.

“Well... if it weren’t for Hari’s friend, I probably would’ve been hurt—or worse—today, right? So, I can’t really be mad at you two. You didn’t know it was bhang, and luckily, it was just a mild dose,” Bhola said with a chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

With that, Bhola called Hari over and pulled him into a big, warm hug. Parvati joined them, wrapping her arms around both. The three of them stood there, sharing a quiet moment of relief and gratitude—for Hari’s friend, whose unexpected advice had, in a strange twist of fate, saved Bhola’s life.

Chapter 7 : The Terrible Night

Days went by as the monsoon tightened its grip on the Himalayan region near Gaurikund. The peaceful valleys were now filled with the roar of thunderstorms and the constant drumming of heavy rain. Flooded paths, ruined crops, and shattered hopes had left the villagers struggling. The farmers, in particular, bore the brunt of nature’s fury, watching helplessly as their hard work washed away.

Then, one Saturday afternoon, the rain finally stopped, and the sun peeked through the clouds for the first time in days. Its golden rays warmed the soaked earth, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of wet soil. Bhola and Parvati, standing outside their home, looked up at the sky with wide smiles, their hearts lightened by the long-awaited break in the weather.

“It’s such a relief to see the sun again,” Parvati said, shielding her eyes with her hand.“Yes,” Bhola replied, nodding. “Maybe this is a sign that things will start getting better.”

“Oh, what a relief to see the sun after all this rain, Parvati. I just hope the weather stays clear now, so we can get back to our routine,” Bhola said, a wave of relief evident in his voice.

“We’ll have to wait and see, Bhola. It’s better to stay cautious in times like these,” Parvati replied, her eyes scanning the cottage. She paused, a hint of concern creeping into her voice. “Where’s Hari? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Hari… Hari, where are you?” Parvati called out, her voice edged with frustration. “This isn’t the time to play games. I told him not to wander off in this awful weather.”

Bhola looked around, a hint of worry in his eyes. “Parvati, do you have any idea where he might have gone?”

“I’m not sure,” Parvati said, her voice laced with worry. “But he usually goes to visit his friend up the hill, past the river near the old bridge. I always thought that boy was from the Bhotia tribe—they’re shepherds who live higher up in the mountains.”

“That’s not far, Parvati. I can go get him and be back in about an hour. You stay here,” Bhola said reassuringly.

But Parvati shook her head firmly. “No, Bhola. I’m coming with you. The river’s been rough, and the path near the bridge might’ve washed out. We’ll go together.”

Bhola knew it was pointless to argue with Parvati, especially with the storm threatening to return. Without wasting another moment, they both grabbed their umbrellas and set off quickly, worry pressing heavily on their hearts. The sky was already turning a deep gray, and the wind carried the scent of more rain. As they hurried along the muddy path, thunder rumbled in the distance, and the clouds above rolled in thick and menacing, swallowing what little daylight remained.

Bhola’s cottage was nestled just above three rows of terraced farms, clinging to the side of a steep hill that overlooked the valley below. The narrow, unpaved path that wound through the fields had turned into a slippery mess, thick with mud from days of rain. With every step, their shoes sank into the sticky ground, making it hard to walk without slipping. The sucking sound of mud pulling at their feet echoed with each careful step, and the journey, already urgent, became painfully slow and exhausting.

“This kid is in for a good scolding,” Parvati muttered under her breath, her frustration bubbling over as she trudged through the mud. “Running off like this in this weather… he has no idea the trouble he’s caused.”

“At least once we get to the river, we can wash this mud off our shoes. Walking like this is nearly impossible,” Bhola said, wobbling slightly as he tried to keep his footing on the slick, uneven slope.

They finally reached the river and washed the mud off their shoes before crossing the small footbridge to the other side. But just as they started climbing the hill, the storm struck with full strength. Loud lightning lit up the sky, and heavy rain poured down, flooding the path in front of them.

“We need to move quickly, Parvati. It’s getting worse out here,” Bhola said urgently, looking up at the darkening sky.

“I just hope Hari’s safe,” Parvati said, her voice shaking as tears mixed with the rain on her cheeks.

The climb uphill was yet another challenge for the already tired couple, worn out from facing the harsh weather. The path was steep and surrounded by thick, forest-like greenery, and the heavy rain made each step harder. They weren’t sure whether to keep using their umbrellas for shelter or to turn them into walking sticks to help them move through the slippery mud. In the end, they chose to use the umbrellas for support—getting soaked didn’t matter anymore with the storm raging around them.

“Be careful with the puddles, Parvati. Some are deep and full of mud, so try to step on the solid rocks,” Bhola warned, glancing back to guide her.

“Please hold my hand, Bhola, and guide me. I’ll follow your lead,” Parvati replied, reaching out to him through the rain.

“Yes, here. Take my hand, and I’ll lead the way,” Bhola said, reaching out to Parvati and carefully starting up the hill. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth, wet leaves, and deodar trees. Even with the heavy rain, the forest felt strangely still—though the constant roar of the rain made it hard to notice anything else. The path was slick, but a narrow trail of stones helped guide their steps toward the top.

As they finally reached the plateau, the sky glowed with the soft colors of the setting sun. Without wasting a moment, their eyes swept the area, searching for Hari. And then they saw him—sitting quietly under a tall, majestic tree, completely unaware of the worry he had caused.

Seeing Hari safe brought tears of joy and relief to their eyes, and they both let out a deep sigh. Their worry melted away in an instant.

The tree he sat beneath was unlike anything they had ever seen. It looked like a giant oak, with a thick trunk wide enough for a dozen people to stand around. The bark was rough and deeply grooved, showing its age and strength. Its massive branches stretched high into the sky, rising even above the tallest deodar trees. The crown of the tree was perfectly shaped, spreading out like a giant mushroom, its leaves forming a wide canopy overhead. Golden sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a soft, warm light on the grass below. The whole scene felt calm and magical, as if the tree were not just a tree, but a mystical being from an old legend.

“Why is Hari sitting there, facing the trunk? He can’t even see us,” Parvati said, a hint of confusion and concern in her voice as she watched him. She squinted through the fading light, startled to see Hari’s lips moving—he seemed to be talking softly to the tree.

“He looks like he’s talking to someone,” Bhola said, puzzled, “but there’s no one else around. Just the tree.”

The couple rushed toward Hari, their hearts pounding. Parvati called out his name, but the rain was so loud it swallowed her voice. She tried again, this time yelling louder. Hari finally heard her and turned around, his eyes wide with surprise as he saw his parents hurrying toward him.

Before Hari could say a word, Parvati ran up to him and pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his face over and over, her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, Maa, Baba, I didn’t think the rain would get this bad. I always come back before sunset, but today I just lost track of time,” Hari said, looking down, his voice full of guilt.

“What are you doing here, Hari?” Bhola asked, confused and a little concerned.

“I came to meet my friend, Baba,” Hari replied, pointing toward the massive tree. “He called me today.”

Chapter 8 : Under the Tree's Embrace

“What do you mean, Hari? How can this tree be your friend? And how could it have called you when we’ve been together all week?” Bhola asked in disbelief.

“You see, Baba, he came to me in my dreams yesterday and told me to come today, no matter what,” Hari explained.

“Hari, are you sure you’re alright?” Parvati asked, her voice filled with concern. “How can this tree be your friend? And how could it have called you? Are you feeling okay, beta?”

Hari grew quiet, struggling to find the right words. He knew it would sound strange—unbelievable even. Though he was just a child, he understood that most people wouldn’t believe him if he said the tree spoke to him.

He had first discovered this hidden place while exploring on his own. From the moment he saw the tree, something about it drew him in. It felt familiar, almost like it was waiting for him. Day after day, he returned, sitting under its wide branches, feeling peaceful in its shade.

Then one day, as he sat in silence, something changed. It wasn’t a voice he heard, not exactly. It was more like a feeling deep inside him—as if the tree was speaking without words, reaching out to him in a way only he could understand.

“It didn’t talk with words, Maa,” Hari said softly, looking up at her. “But I could feel it… in my heart. We understood each other. He told me we’ve known each other in other lifetimes… and that our meeting here wasn’t an accident.”

“He said everything happens for a reason, Baba,” Hari continued, his voice calm and steady. “And that we all know each other… really well. Even if we don’t remember.” He looked at his parents as he spoke, his eyes full of quiet certainty.

Bhola and Parvati stood speechless, trying to make sense of what Hari had just said. They exchanged glances, both remembering how Bhola’s life had been mysteriously spared—how a strange turn of events had kept him from danger. The very tree Hari spoke of now had been part of that moment. As unbelievable as it all sounded, they couldn’t completely brush off his words. Something about it felt… possible.

“I... I don’t know what to say, Hari. This all feels so strange and mystical,” Bhola said, his voice a mix of wonder and urgency. “But we need to go home now. It’s almost sunset, and we don’t have much time before it gets dark. We’ll talk more about your friend later, but for now, we have to leave.”

He gently took Hari’s hand, ready to head back. As he stood up, he turned once more to look at the magnificent tree—its towering form, still and silent in the fading light—before finally starting the journey home.

Just as they turned to leave, the sky suddenly darkened, thick clouds gathering overhead with alarming speed. A sharp flash of lightning split the sky, followed by a thunderclap so loud it seemed to shake the earth.

Before they could react, a massive branch from the towering tree snapped with a crack and came crashing down toward them.

“Parvati, move!” Bhola shouted, yanking Hari out of harm’s way and turning back to shield his wife, his heart pounding in his chest.

The three of them leapt aside just in time, narrowly escaping the falling branch as it slammed into the ground with a deafening crash, breaking into jagged pieces. A thick cloud of dust burst into the air, swirling around them and making it hard to see. They coughed and blinked through the haze, their hearts still racing from the close call.

When the dust cleared, Bhola's heart was beating fast. The branch had fallen just a meter away, but it had felt much closer. He quickly checked Parvati—she was safe. But when he looked at Hari, his face turned pale. Hari was lying on the ground, and there was blood on his forehead from the fall.

“Oh God, what have I done?” Bhola cried out, panic rising in his voice as he dropped to his knees beside Hari. Hari wasn’t moving, and his injury looked bad. Blood trickled down his forehead, and his eyes were shut, making Bhola’s heart sink with fear.

“Don’t panic, Bhola,” Parvati said, trying to stay calm. “He’s breathing, just unconscious. We need to stop the bleeding right away.”

Bhola hurried to the nearby stream and scooped up water in his hands, rushing back to Hari. He gently washed the blood from Hari’s forehead, trying to stay steady despite his worry. The bleeding was heavy, but the cut didn’t look life-threatening. As he poured more water over Hari’s face, a small groan escaped Hari’s lips—he was starting to wake up.

“He’ll be fine, Bhola,” Parvati said gently, trying to reassure him. “Can you fetch a little more water so we can clean the wound properly?”

Bhola, who knew about local herbs, quickly set off to find something that could help. He returned with a few plants and made a simple medicinal paste, gently applying it to Hari’s wound. As the rain continued to pour and the sky grew darker, Bhola and Parvati knew they couldn’t risk heading back through the stormy forest. It was clear—they would have to spend the night there.

The place where they were stranded was a peaceful, beautiful meadow, surrounded by tall deodar trees, soft green grass, and snow-capped mountains far in the distance. Even though the storm still raged on, they found a spot under the large tree that seemed more sheltered and safer from falling branches. It felt like the best place to wait out the night.

“Parvati, I think we’ll be fine if we sleep near the trunk. It should keep us safe,” Bhola said, trying to sound reassuring. Parvati nodded and sat down, gently resting Hari’s head in her lap. She stroked his hair softly, comforting him as he dozed in and out of sleep, while they quietly prepared themselves to spend the night under the shelter of the great tree.

“Even with the storm, this night feels magical, Bhola,” Parvati said softly, her voice calmer now that Hari was showing signs of getting better.

“Yes, there’s something special about this night,” Bhola agreed. “Even though we’re stuck here, I feel strangely safe under this tree, with the open sky above us. It’s like the tree is watching over us.”

As the rain poured steadily through the night, Bhola and Parvati lay quietly beneath the tree. They watched the moon occasionally peek through the drifting clouds, its soft light casting a gentle glow on the meadow. The soothing rhythm of the rain and the peaceful surroundings slowly lulled them to sleep, exhaustion finally taking over.

By morning, the rain had finally stopped, and the sky was bright and clear. To Bhola and Parvati’s great relief, Hari was awake and full of energy, happily playing in the meadow as if nothing had happened. The peaceful night’s rest had worked wonders, and he seemed completely recovered.

“What a beautiful morning!” Hari shouted with joy, running through the grass, completely unaware of how worried his parents had been the night before. His laughter echoed through the meadow, bringing a smile to Bhola and Parvati’s tired faces.

“Hari, you scared us so much last night!” Parvati said, scolding him gently. But her relief showed as she pulled him into a warm hug, unable to hide the love in her eyes.

“We barely made it out safely, Hari,” Bhola said firmly. “From now on, you must stay away from this tree. It’s too dangerous.”

“I knew the branch wasn’t going to hit us,” Hari said, trying to explain. “But you pulled me so fast, Baba, I lost my balance and fell.”

“Well, we’re not saying it’s the tree’s fault,” Bhola said gently, “but you shouldn’t come here by yourself anymore.” As they got ready to head home, Hari turned to the tree, wrapped his arms around its massive trunk, and whispered a quiet goodbye.

The walk back was tough. The rain had turned the path into a slippery mess, and parts of it were washed out completely. They moved slowly and carefully through the thick mud. After what felt like forever, they finally reached the top of a hill from where they could see their village down below.

When they saw the destruction below, their hearts sank and tears welled up in their eyes. The village was underwater, and their home had been completely swept away by the flood. The damage was overwhelming—but deep down, they knew one thing: they were lucky to be alive. Somehow, fate had spared them.

Bhola wrapped his arm around Parvati’s shoulder as Hari stood between them, clutching his mother’s hand. They watched in stunned silence, taking in the heartbreaking scene below. Homes were flattened, fields drowned, and livestock floated lifelessly in the water. Smoke rose in the distance where some villagers had lit fires to cook or stay warm. The entire landscape looked unfamiliar, as if a different world had replaced the one they had known.

“We should head down and see if anyone needs help,” Bhola said quietly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Parvati nodded. “We have nothing left… but at least we have each other.”

Hari looked up at them and whispered, “Maybe the tree knew this would happen. Maybe it saved us.”

Bhola and Parvati exchanged a glance. Neither spoke, but in their hearts, they began to believe that perhaps their strange night in the forest had been more than coincidence. And as they descended

“If we had spent the night in the village, we might not have survived,” Bhola said, his voice filled with deep gratitude.

“Hari, your friend just saved our lives,” Parvati said, tears streaming down her face.

“Yes, your mysterious friend,” Bhola agreed.