Page 92
Story: When Love Trespassed
The doctor gave final instructions—use a walking stick for a few days, start light exercises, avoid sudden movements. Shaurya noted each word like it was a gospel.
Later, as Shaurya drove them back to Raichand Villa, his eyes kept flicking towards the clock on the dashboard, his mind spinning with one thought:How did Nandini’s investor call go?
The ride was smooth, the hum of the engine the only sound. After a few minutes, Grandpa cleared his throat. “You surprise me all the time, boy.”
Shaurya glanced at him briefly before focusing back on the road. “What did I do now?”
“I’m aware that you already know,” Grandpa said, leaning back against the seat, his walking stick resting between his knees. “That I didn’t fall from those stairs because of you.”
Shaurya nodded quietly. “Yeah. I knew.”
Grandpa exhaled. “And still, you took it all upon yourself. The blame, the burden, the massages, the dietary enforcement… all of it. You adjusted your work schedule for me. You didn’t have to do all of that, but still, you did.”
Shaurya didn’t reply immediately. He just kept driving.
“That day,” Grandpa went on, his tone turning more serious, “I had just gotten a call from my son and daughter-in-law. Nandini’s parents. They were asking me to come to London for a vacation.”
Shaurya arched a brow but stayed quiet.
“Can you believe that?” Grandpa gave a dry, almost bitter chuckle. “They know how much the mango season means to me. How this tree was planted by my wife, how sacred it is to me. And yet, they ask me to leave everything and fly across the world like it’s nothing. Like I’m just an old man with no work, no attachments.”
Shaurya still said nothing. He didn’t have to. He finally understood now. Every tantrum Grandpa had thrown about the mango tree, every dramatic sigh or exaggerated scolding, the barbed lectures about the tree—it wasn’t just about control. It was about memory. About loss. About love.
“In that moment of anger,” Grandpa continued, “I stormed up the stairs too fast. I wasn’t watching, and my ankle gave out. The fall was inevitable. But you—” He turned to face Shaurya.“You knew it wasn’t your fault. And still, you stayed. You showed up every day. You took care of me. And I see it now. I see the kind of man you really are. You have a heart, my boy, and a big one at that.”
Shaurya glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”
Grandpa grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Well, I had to test you thoroughly. Make sure you weren’t just a pretty face with fancy gadgets and a bad temper.”
Shaurya chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve been a nightmare of a patient, too, by the way. If this hadn’t happened, we’d still be exchanging legal notices over tree branches.”
“You would’ve definitely sent another one, I know,” Grandpa said with mock horror.
He burst into laughter, the tension between them dissolving into something warmer, more genuine.
As Shaurya parked the car inside the gates of the Raichand Villa, Grandpa suddenly placed a hand on his arm before he could step out.
“In these past few weeks,” he said, “you’ve looked after me as if I was your own. Even my own son wouldn’t have done half of what you’ve done for me. I’ll always be indebted to you for that, Shaurya.”
Shaurya squeezed Grandpa’s hand firmly. “You don’t owe me anything, Mr. Raichand. But I’ll admit one thing. Even I didn’t expect to care as much as I do now. So I’ll keep showing up, even when you’re fully back on your feet and don’t need me anymore.”
Grandpa patted his hand, smiling faintly. “Good. We would love that too. Because this family is getting used to having you around, and you are always welcome.”
Then, after a beat, he added with a mischievous gleam in his eye, “And please, quit calling me ‘Mr. Raichand.’ From now on, I’m ‘Grandpa’ for you too.”
Shaurya blinked as the word ‘Grandpa’ struck deeper than he’d thought. It wasn’t just a title; it was a place in the family. An invitation into something he’d never really had. For a long moment, he just stared at the older man, unsure what to say.
“Okay,” he finally said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Grandpa.”
Grandpa chuckled at the way Shaurya said it and then patted his arm again before they stepped out of the car. They were no longer just neighbours, no longer just grumpy rivals. Something had shifted between them permanently. Things had changed for good.
As they entered the living room, Nandini came bounding down the stairs, her maxi dress billowing behind her.
“Daadu! Your cast is off! Finally!” she squealed, wrapping her arms around him, careful not to jostle his still-tender leg.
“Forget me,” he chuckled, patting her back. “Tell us about the investor call.”
Nandini pulled back, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she looked between Shaurya and her grandfather.
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