"Vaanika's Journey Begins: The Forgotten Flame"

 

Chapter 1: The Forgotten Flame

Shivdara, a quiet village where magic hides in plain sight…

In the quiet village of Shivdara, nestled between emerald hills and mango-laden trees, lived a girl named Vaanika. Her name was like a soft whisper in the wind, her presence like a gentle drizzle in summer—pure, calm, and unnoticed.

Born on a stormy night, her first cry echoed as thunder split the sky. Her mother passed away during childbirth, leaving behind a haunting silence. Her father, Ratan Singh, a kind yet grief-stricken man, remarried when Vaanika was just two years old—bringing Kamla into their lives. But instead of gaining a mother, Vaanika gained a burden.

Kamla was not cruel with knives or words—but with indifference. Her own children, Aarav and Gauri, were pampered and sent to city schools. Vaanika? She swept floors, fetched water, cooked, and cared for the home. Yet she never once complained. Her calm eyes, always glowing with unspoken dreams, carried a quiet power.

Unbeknownst to everyone, even to herself, Vaanika held magic.

When she touched wilting flowers, they bloomed. When she sang to cows, they gave more milk. When she wept, oil lamps flickered though no wind blew. But these small miracles went unnoticed in the dusty routines of rural life.

Her only true refuge was Veer Baba—a beloved village elder who lived near the banyan grove in a hut that always smelled of sandalwood and secrets. He wasn’t family, but his heart was bigger than any blood tie. He’d gift her crystals, tell her stories of ancient goddesses, and once said, “Tum roshni ho, Vaanika. Bas waqt ka intezaar hai.” (You are light, Vaanika. Just wait for the right time.)

On the morning of her eighteenth birthday, the winds began to change.

Ratan Singh, with a heavy heart and honest intentions, began seeking a groom for her. Many came—enchanted by her gentle charm—but Kamla dismissed them all. “If she leaves,” she snapped, “who will do the housework?”

Vaanika had no dreams of princes or riches. She longed only to study, to see the world, to live life beyond the dusty lanes of Shivdara. But her dreams were like locked books—never opened, never read.

That afternoon, while returning from the village temple on her old, squeaky bicycle, destiny arrived.

A black SUV—shiny and sleek—sped into the village lane. Unfamiliar. Outsider. Vaanika turned quickly to avoid a pothole, but her bicycle collided with the car. She fell, her dupatta covering her face like a curtain.

The car door opened.

A soft, accented voice asked, “Are you alright?”

It was Arin—a young researcher from abroad, visiting India for a cultural study. With him was his cheerful desi friend Aman and a confused village driver.

Vaanika, still on the ground, looked up shyly, heart thudding.

Arin extended his hand. “Let me help you.”

And as she touched his hand, a soft breeze swirled around them. The peepal tree nearby shimmered as if time itself paused to witness fate taking its first step.

From behind a tree, Veer Baba watched, smiling like he knew the universe had just begun its play.

The forgotten flame… was reignited.

To be continued...

“Chapter 2 coming soon – Follow the magical journey of Vaanika!”

Don’t forget to follow and share this story with someone who believes in magic.

-The Author (Kridha)