Coma

Trisha’s Pov:

This has seemed like we are all in movie and chasing someone. I and Tarun in one care, Rehan and Rehana is just back in their own Mercedes-Benz S-class, and at the side, Yug and Kanika on his favorite bike, which he never brings occasionally. His first love “Harley-Davidson CVO”. All vehicles are running on the road like we are chasing any underworld mafias.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

All cars come to halt in one go, we all move towards the house like we all are the heroes and the heronries of the movie. All Serious expression. We do not even bother to knock or bell, directly entry.

“What the hell—” Tarun's words lost in mid-way, and we all are in shock, because of the scene unfold in front of our eyes. I and Rehana immediately look down. But the rest are shamelessly looking at them.

Sanjana is on the sofa and Karan is hovering on Sanjana, who is also…. Ahem, Ok. Kissing her cleavage. Sanjana’s hands are pinned over the sofa and Karan’s hands handcuffs Her’s. As much as I am shy to say it, it was just as hot and romantic. They immediately change their position and sit Stright like a child caught eating lunch in classroom. But this is more than that.

Tarun clears his throat and says, “What the hell is this Karan, these files.” he throws the hospital files on the center table, he is really angry, and why not, Karan is his best friend, and no one will ever have the courage to listen that his beloved friend is hospitalized for 6 fucking months.

“First of all, don’t you all have some etiquette to knock.” he gritted his teeth, then one glance at the files like they are daily newspaper.

“Don’t you have common sense to lock.” Tarun snap.

“Do you even have idea that what is these files are of.” I asked, because he is getting on my Nevers.

Sanjana approaches the files but as she touches Karan grab the file and put it aside and spoke. “It's bullshit, nothing important.”

“Bullshit.” Tarun’s voice is on edge. “This is bullshit for you right, and we all are chutiya.”

No, mai to nahi hun.

“Let me see.” Sanjna protest.

“Yess, let us see what this is, Bhai” Rehanna also bends to pick the files. But again he took in his hands.

“When this is bullshit then let ‘em see.” I continue “Or should we say what these files contains.” I challenge him. His eyes are getting dark; I am not Scared of him until unless Sanjana is here.

“Ab kya chupa rahe ho Karan.” Sanjana’s voice is contained lots of betray and sorrow.

“Nothing My Lady, this nothing.”

I chuckle.

“Karan bas kar yaar, ham kuch nahi lagte kya tere.” Tarun said. There is something off in his voice. “Tell us the truth. Specially Sanjana deserves the truth.”

“Do not tell me what She deserves. She is my wife; I know what she deserves or not.” One day his arrogance will lead the destruction. Sanjana keeps looking at him, then slowly stand up and with the deliberate steps came in front of Tarun.

“Plesae, tum mujhe bata do ye kya hai.” a sharp breath escape from Tarun’s mouth and he quickly grab his hands and speak.

“No, Sanjana you don’t need to plead” Why is she looking like she already cried. “I am here with you at every moment.” that is it, and she broke. Tarun held her and stoked her back; her sobs are freely flowing in his embrace. I look at another direction to hide my own tears. Kanika sniffs. Karan has the expression like he will now destroy the world and himself. Of course, I still remember the words he promise to us, that she will never be sad, at least not because of himself. But here she is crying because of him.

Tarun glare at him. “Ab bata de. bas ho gaya ab tera aur chupana” Karan clenches his jaw and release a Shakey breath and began.

“Yes, I was hospitalizing in Iraq, because the enemy took us, me and the rest three soldier. This is not big deal for country, because we win that war, but the underground terrorist attack on us. And arrest us. We all were four, but one died in the struggle.” He takes a pause, “Fortunately, we got their information of sleeper cells. And we convey that information to Our country by sending one of our soldiers to run and get that information back to our country. And because of him we both are in danger, but the country gets to know that we are in their territory.” This is looking like a film. Army, attack, seize**,** sleeper cells. We all are listening to him like statue.

“So, they transfer us to China, and torcher us, so that we leak the country’s information. They do not simply kill us, because they need information, but they torcher us in that way that we have to beg them to kill us. They humiliate our families. Women and what not” he let out a small sigh. Sanjana covers her face with hands and takes a sharp breath. On the response Karna shook her head and spread her arms to embrace her, she sprints towards him and hug him tightly. “Shh, relax I am here, I am here.” the mummer top of head. Rehana put her head down and silently wipe her tears. “Rehanna” Karna called out to take her in his embrace. A smile reaches on my face. Karan is not only a husband but a big brother too, and as much as Sanjana waited for him that much Rehanna waited too. “Issilye mai nahi batane vala tha.”

“Use kya hota.” Tarun asked, it’s not the question that take me aback it's his voice. Weak, small, “Then what happen”

Karan takes a deep breath and pat on Rehanna’s head. “After 2 months when they thought that we are useless, they throw us in Iraq desert. But our fortune is that India found us and treat our scars. Abhishek who is with me his one leg have some kind of infection so that his leg will chop it off. And I have severe kind of spinal injury, that is why I was in coma and paralyzed too.” As he finishes is words my grip on sofa tighten. This is… unacceptable. Sanjana held his shirt to keep herself stable. “That’s it. and India also misinterpret Me and Abhishek as Death. That is why they made my death certificate and today I also brought my alive certificate.”

Karan’s voice still echoes in the room—low, heavy, burdened. It’s not just story. It’s a scar. And he said it all like it’s nothing.

Torture…starving… coma… Each words sticks to my skin like sandpaper. This man… he was labels dead. And toady his sits here barely stitched together, not even angry at the system, just… grateful to be alive.

My chest tightens. Not because if pity, But because of guilt. How many times have we scrolled past headlines? Soldier martyred, Missing in action.

And we just scroll… like it’s a movie update. But here, sitting in front of me is living proof of what those headlines hide.

Karan Grover didn’t come back from war, he crawled back. I wipe the corner of my eyes before anyone notices. Rehanna still breaking, Sanjana is holding him like a lifeline, and even Tarun has gone quite.

Our soldiers they do not owe us a smile, We owe them everything. Not just pride smile, not just praise. But a lifetime gratitude.

Tarun's pov:

My throat feels dry.

Not the kind of dryness that water fixes —but the kind that comes from swallowing guilt, pride, helplessness… all at once.

I’ve known Karan Grover since the day we both hated wearing ties and dreamed about freedom.

I saw him become a soldier.

But I never imagined…that one day I’d hear his story like this as if he’s narrating someone else's death.

He says it so calmly, like pain is a second language he became fluent in.

“They torch us…” “We starve…” “I was in a coma…”

Damn it, Karan.

And here I was — whining about board meetings and investor stress while he was lying in a desert with his legs rotting off.

What kind of best friend am I?

I couldn’t reach him. I didn’t even know where he was.

When I got that letter — the one that said “Missing. Presumed dead.” I cried. But I also moved on.

I accepted that my best friend was gone.

But he wasn’t. He was fighting… alone.

And now he sits here, not asking for sympathy. Just telling us facts. Bruised. Broken. But never bitter.

I feel something twist in my chest. Not sadness. Not just guilt.

Responsibility.

I will never let him carry this alone again.

Now I feel like someone punched me in the ribs and then whispered, “You were living, but he was surviving.”

My palms feel cold. I rub them against my trousers, not sure if it’s sweat or shame.

I want to yell at him.

Not for being in Iraq. Not for being tortured. But for not letting me be there for him.

I clear my throat, pretending it’s stuck not my emotions. “Karan…” He looks at me. Eyes sharp. Blank.

And suddenly, I forget what I was going to say.

How do you tell someone you're proud of them, when they’ve been through hell and back and still think it’s not a big deal?

“Then why is this mission kept untouched by media? And why no one know that India wins this war?” My voice cracks halfway.

He blinks. “Because you all are on stake.”

I lower my eyes.

“They all wanted to take India in their control.”

Damn you, Karan. Why are you still trying to protect us?

I sit beside him not like an MD. Not even like a boss. Just a best friend trying to keep his own hands from shaking.

“Meri Zindagi mein jagh khali thi.”

He glances sideways, still not letting emotions show. “Acha fir Trisha ka kya?”

And despite everything despite the desert, the coma, the paralysis —I chuckle.

Not because it’s funny. But because he's still him. Still Karan.

And I swear to God…I’ll make sure this time, he doesn’t suffer alone. Not under my roof.

Not while I’m breathing.

Kanika pov

That man—Karan Grover—finally said something. Something that didn’t sound like orders or instructions. Something that hurt.

And as the silence after bhai’s words settled over the room, I didn’t look at him.

I looked at Yug.

There’s a certain charm in him, always has been. He’s the guy who flirts like it’s his second language, who lights up rooms without even trying. The guy who’s always had something to say about anything, about everything.

But today…He didn’t say a word.

He just stood there, frozen. Still. Eyes dark and thoughtful, hands in pockets, jaw tense. Not even fidgeting — and Yug Jaiswal always fidgets when he's uncomfortable.

It was Karan bhai’s grief that spoke today, but it did something to Yug. I don’t know what exactly, but something shifted.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Now, two hours later, I’m sitting across from him at this stupid fake date again — at a rooftop café where people are smiling and the music is soft and romantic — and my partner hasn’t spoken in twenty-five minutes.

That’s got to be a record for him.

My mind is also went at Karan bhai’s words.

I sip my coffee and watch him. He’s pretending to scroll his phone, but he hasn’t blinked in a while. He’s not here. Not really. And I’m too afraid to say that he thinks that the date is not fake but Real.

And here he is all tensed.

Was it something about Karan bhai’s past? Was it the way Sanjana looked when she tried not to cry?

Or.

The way he behaves when Bhai came, he mentioned that Sanjana suffers because of him.

Guilt.

I don’t know.

All I know is that Yug is suddenly too quiet. And it’s not the peaceful kind of quiet. It’s the kind that makes you wonder if someone’s rebuilding something inside themselves brick by painful brick.

And I hate how I miss his nonsense. His ridiculous one-liners, his flirty smirks, even the way he calls me “princess” just to annoy me.

Right now? He’s not that Yug.

Because the weight of today's truth still holds.

The way he told us about “torcher” “starving”. Is like something cool for him but the pressure building inside us is too much.

But here, what we all are doing for them for the army for the military of our country.

Just like, comment about their bravery.

And also, something through our opinions. But we never ever realized how much they sacrifice. How much their family members suffering.

They are protecting us. But we only get to see praises of the government. The government only puts up their posters and no one tells us about the soldiers who escape and come back. Even on the internet, we only praise the government.

＊✿❀　❀✿＊

Love You all....

Do vote and share your views.