Hiii my alians new chapter is here ..... Give show your loves and efforts .,.

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That night, the village looked different.

The temple at the edge of the village was glowing with hundreds of tiny diyas.

It was the annual puja.

Almost everyone had gone.

Children, elders, women dressed in their best sarees, men carrying offerings-one by one, the narrow village lanes had emptied.

Even Pankhuri's grandparents had gone.

But Pankhuri hadn't.

She was sitting near the small window of her room, watching the moonlight spill over the courtyard.

Her grandmother had left dinner covered for her before leaving.

"Tabiyat theek nahi hai toh aaram kar lena," she'd said.

Pankhuri had simply nodded.

She had started her periods that afternoon.

Nothing unusual.

Nothing she was ashamed of.

But in their household, there were certain traditions.

During those days, she didn't enter the kitchen or temple.

So while everyone else had gone to the puja, Pankhuri stayed home.

She wasn't particularly upset about it.

She had her old book.

Her little notebook.

And the sky.

She loved the sky at night.

Perhaps because her father had loved it too.

She didn't know much about airplanes or flying.

She only knew that whenever someone spoke about her father, the sky somehow became part of the story.

So she looked up often.

As though somewhere above those stars, a piece of him was still there.

---

It was nearly eleven when Pankhuri heard something.

At first, she thought it was thunder.

A low, distant sound.

Then-

CRASH.

Her entire body froze.

She stood up so quickly that the book fell from her lap.

"What was that?"

For a few seconds, there was silence.

Then came the sound of an engine struggling.

Pankhuri's heart began pounding.

Her mind immediately went somewhere she hated going.

Accident.

She hated accidents.

Perhaps because the word had taken everything from her once.

Her parents.

Her childhood.

The life she could have had.

She grabbed the small torch hanging near the door.

"Bhagwan..."

She stepped outside.

The road beyond the village was usually empty at this hour.

But tonight, there was a faint glow beyond the trees.

Pankhuri hesitated.

Everyone was at the temple.

There was no one around.

Still-

someone could be hurt.

She picked up her dupatta and ran.

---

The further she went, the louder her heartbeat became.

Then she saw it.

A black SUV had crashed against the side of the road.

The front was badly damaged.

One headlight was broken.

Smoke was slowly rising from the bonnet.

Pankhuri stopped.

Her fingers tightened around the torch.

"Hey Bhagwan..."

She looked around.

"Koi hai?"

No answer.

She moved closer.

"Hello?"

Then she heard a faint sound.

A groan.

Pankhuri's fear disappeared beneath instinct.

"Koi hai!"

She hurried toward the driver's side.

The door was jammed.

A man was inside.

Blood ran from a cut near his forehead.

His eyes were closed.

Pankhuri's hands trembled.

She didn't know who he was.

She didn't know what to do.

But she knew one thing.

She couldn't leave him there.

"Sun rahe ho aap?"

Nothing.

"Please aankhein kholiye."

His eyelids moved slightly.

Pankhuri immediately stepped back.

"Achha... achha, aap zinda ho."

She almost laughed from relief.

Then she remembered her school science lessons.

Basic first aid.

She had learned some things.

Not much.

But enough to know she shouldn't pull him out unnecessarily.

She looked around.

There was a small first-aid box inside the car.

She carefully reached for it.

"Sorry..."

She opened the passenger door and took it.

The man's breathing was uneven.

Pankhuri crouched beside him.

"Main doctor nahi hoon."

She spoke as though he could understand.

"Par thoda bahut first aid aata hai."

She cleaned the blood around his forehead as carefully as she could.

He flinched.

"Sorry!"

She immediately pulled her hand away.

"Dard ho raha hai?"

His eyes opened slightly.

Dark.

Unfocused.

He looked at her.

For a second, neither spoke.

Then his voice came, barely audible.

"Water..."

Pankhuri looked around.

"Paani?"

He gave the smallest nod.

She grabbed the bottle from inside the car.

"Thoda sa."

She helped him take a small sip.

"Bas. Zyada nahi."

His eyes closed again.

Pankhuri swallowed.

"Hospital jaana zaroori hai."

No response.

She looked at her surroundings.

There was no network on her old keypad phone.

And everyone was at the temple.

She couldn't call anyone.

She had no idea how far the nearest hospital was.

Pankhuri looked at the injured stranger again.

"Main kisi ko bulaati hoon."

She stood.

Then stopped.

His hand had caught the edge of her dupatta.

Not tightly.

Almost unconsciously.

Pankhuri looked down.

His fingers loosened immediately.

He seemed barely conscious.

She gently freed the fabric.

"Main jaa nahi rahi."

She sat back down.

"Bas help laane ka soch rahi thi."

---

Minutes passed.

The night became colder.

Pankhuri kept talking because silence frightened her more than conversation.

"Waise..."

She looked at him.

"Aapko pata hai aap bahut careless ho?"

No response.

"Raat mein itni tez gaadi chalane ki kya zaroorat thi?"

His eyebrows moved slightly.

Pankhuri smiled.

"Achha, sun rahe ho."

She adjusted the cloth near his wound.

"Waise aap dekhne mein bade gusse wale lagte ho."

His eyes opened again.

This time, there was a little more awareness in them.

He stared at her.

Pankhuri shrugged.

"Sach bol rahi hoon."

He tried to move.

"Don't."

Her voice became firm.

"Hilna mat."

He stopped.

She sighed.

"Dekha?"

She looked at his expensive watch.

"Paise wale logon ko lagta hai na ki sab kuch control kar sakte hain."

His eyes narrowed.

Pankhuri didn't notice.

She was too busy checking the cloth around his forehead.

"Par accident ke baad toh sabko same hi dard hota hai."

She paused. Then

" Ameer ho ya Gareeb"

For the first time, something changed in his expression.

Pankhuri continued.

"Aapko gussa bahut aata hoga."

He stared at her.

"Kaise pata?"

His voice was rough.

Pankhuri blinked.

"Aap bol sakte ho?"

He gave her an irritated look.

She smiled.

"Achha... toh hosh mein ho."

He tried to sit up.

She immediately pushed his shoulder back.

"Bilkul nahi."

"Who are you?"

"Pankhuri."

"Pankhuri..."

He repeated her name quietly.

"Haan."

She looked at him.

"Aap?"

He remained silent.

Pankhuri raised an eyebrow.

"Naam batane mein tax lagta hai kya?"

For a moment, the injured man simply stared at her.

Then-

"Armaan."

"Armaan?"

He nodded.

Pankhuri smiled.

"Achha naam hai."

She didn't know that the name she had just heard belonged to someone far beyond the world she knew.

She didn't know who Dr. Armaan Rathore was.

To her, he was simply an injured stranger on a dark road.

And perhaps that was why she spoke to him so freely.

---

His head slowly became heavier.

His eyes closed again.

Pankhuri noticed his body shivering.

"Thand lag rahi hai?"

No answer.

She removed her shawl and placed it over him.

Then she looked around.

There was nowhere comfortable for him to rest.

The road was uneven.

The car was damaged.

Pankhuri hesitated.

Finally, she sat beneath the tree.

"Yahan thoda aaram kar lijiye."

She carefully helped him shift.

His head eventually rested against her lap.

Pankhuri froze.

She looked down.

Then at the empty road.

Then back at him.

"Ye toh..."

She didn't know what to do.

He was clearly injured.

Moving him again could make things worse.

So she stayed still.

"Bas thodi der."

She looked at his face.

He seemed completely different now.

Without the anger in his eyes.

Without the sharpness.

Just tired.

Pankhuri sighed.

"Pata hai..."

She started speaking softly.

"Tum bahut ajeeb ho."

Armaan's eyes remained closed.

"Matlab..."

She corrected herself.

"Aap bahut ajeeb ho."

A tiny pause.

"Sabko order dene ki aadat hai kya?"

No answer.

"Hospital pahunch jaoge toh kisi nurse ko bhi bologe-ye karo, woh karo."

She smiled.

"Main hoti na hospital mein, toh aapko koi order nahi dene deti."

His lips moved faintly.

"Tum..."

Pankhuri leaned closer.

"Kya?"

"Bahut..."

He stopped.

"Bahut kya?"

His eyes closed again.

Pankhuri waited.

Then whispered,

"Rude?"

No answer.

She smiled.

"Achha."

She looked toward the sky.

"Waise aapko stars pasand hain?"

Silence.

"Mujhe pasand hain."

She began talking about the sky.

About how her father used to look at it.

About how she sometimes wondered what the world looked like from above.

She didn't mention her dream.

Not yet.

She simply said,

"Papa ko aasman bahut pasand tha."

Her voice softened.

"Isliye shayad mujhe bhi."

She looked down at Armaan.

"Dadi kehti hain main bachpan se hi upar dekhti rehti thi."

A little laugh escaped her.

"Main sochti thi stars mein ghar hote hain."

She paused.

"Bachpan mein kitni bewakoof thi na?"

Armaan didn't answer.

Pankhuri continued anyway.

"Waise aap bhi..."

She looked at him carefully.

"Bahar se bahut gusse wale lagte ho."

She touched the edge of the bandage.

"Par mujhe lagta hai aap thake hue ho."

Her voice became softer.

"Bahut."

She had no idea why she was telling him these things.

Maybe because he couldn't argue back.

Maybe because she had never been brave enough to tell people what she thought.

Or maybe because, for the first time, she was speaking to someone who didn't know her.

"Sabko khush rakhne ke chakkar mein khud ko bhool jaate ho kya?"

Silence.

"Bahut control chahiye na sab cheezon par?"

She smiled sadly.

"Par zindagi ko control nahi kar sakte."

The words left her mouth before she could stop them.

Because she knew.

She knew better than most.

One accident had proved that.

---

What Pankhuri didn't know was that someone had seen them.

A villager returning early from the temple had noticed the damaged car.

Then he saw the young woman sitting beneath the tree with an unfamiliar man's head resting in her lap.

He stopped.

Stared.

Then hurried back toward the village.

Within minutes, whispers began spreading.

"Raat ke samay ek ladki ek aadmi ke saath hai."

"Kaun aadmi?"

"Pata nahi."

"Pankhuri toh ghar par thi..."

"Wahi hai."

The whispers became assumptions.

The assumptions became accusations.

And by the time several villagers reached the road with lanterns and torches-

the truth had already been replaced by imagination.

---

"Pankhuri!"

She looked up.

Her smile vanished.

Dozens of people stood there.

Her grandfather was among them.

Her grandmother was behind him.

"Dadaji?"

Her eyes widened.

"Yahan kya kar rahi hai?"

Pankhuri immediately looked at Armaan.

"Accident hua tha!"

She stood carefully.

"Ye aadmi injured hai. Main help kar rahi thi."

But nobody was listening properly.

Their eyes were on the man.

Then on Pankhuri.

Then on the position they'd found them in.

Whispers started again.

"Raat ke waqt..."

"Akeli..."

"God mein sir..."

Pankhuri's face flushed.

"Aap log galat samajh rahe ho!"

Her grandmother immediately came to her.

"Pankhu, peeche aa."

"But Dadi-"

"Peeche."

Pankhuri obeyed.

One older man shook his head.

"Yeh theek nahi hai."

Another added,

"Gaon mein aisi baatein nahi hoti."

Pankhuri's eyes filled.

"Main sirf unki help kar rahi thi!"

"Help?"

The man scoffed.

"Raat ke samay ek jawaan ladki aur ek anjaan aadmi?"

Pankhuri stared at him.

"Accident mein koi aadmi ho toh usko marne ke liye chhod doon?"

Nobody answered.

Because there was no good answer.

But prejudice rarely needs one.

---

Armaan slowly opened his eyes.

He heard the voices.

He looked around.

The crowd.

The damaged car.

Pankhuri standing behind an older woman.

Confused.

Frightened.

And then he noticed the way everyone was looking at her.

His jaw tightened.

He tried to sit up.

Pain shot through his head.

Pankhuri immediately stepped forward.

"Don't move!"

Everyone turned toward her.

Armaan looked at her.

Then at the villagers.

His voice was weak but clear.

"She's telling the truth."

Silence.

"She helped me."

The crowd became quiet.

Pankhuri stared at him.

He continued,

"She didn't do anything wrong."

The old man who had accused her looked away.

But another whispered,

"Phir bhi..."

Armaan's expression hardened.

"Phir bhi kya?"

Even injured, his voice carried authority.

The crowd fell silent.

Pankhuri looked at him differently.

She had thought he was simply an angry stranger.

Now she was beginning to understand-

there was something about him that made people stop speaking.

---

Far away, the temple be

lls continued ringing.

The puja was still going on.

But on that empty road, Pankhuri's ordinary life had already begun changing.

She had only wanted to help an injured stranger.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

She didn't know his family.

She didn't know his status.

She didn't know his world.

And she certainly didn't know that the man sitting beneath that tree was about to become the most complicated person in her life.

For now, she only knew one thing.

Someone had been hurt.

And she had helped.

That should have been the end of it.

But sometimes, in a world full of assumptions-

one innocent act is enough to change two lives forever.

To be continued....

---

🌸 AUTHOR'S NOTE

She helped a stranger because leaving him alone wasn't an option.

But sometimes, the world sees kindness differently.

- ALISIAN INK 🖋️