Morning arrived slowly, like the world was careful not to disturb what had happened the night before. Outside the hospital, everything looked normal. Cars moved in steady lines, people rushed into offices, phones rang with the same urgency as always. Life continued with its usual rhythm. But inside the ICU, time felt different. Meenakshi Suryavanshi lay on the bed, surrounded by machines, her body still weak after the long surgery. The doctors had been clear — the procedure was successful, but the next forty-eight hours were critical. She was conscious only for short periods, sedated most of the time, allowed to speak only a few words before exhaustion took over. Aadhya stood beside her mother for a few minutes that morning, holding her hand gently, afraid that if she let go, reality might slip again. “Maa, I’ll come back in the evening,” she whispered. Meenakshi’s eyes fluttered open slightly. “Don’t skip work because of me,” she said faintly. “Life shouldn’t stop.” Aadhya sm
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