NATIONAL INVESTIGATION AGENCY, NEW DELHI

"ACP Prithviraj Singh Shekhawat reporting, sir!" The voice echoed through the entire office. All the officers in the room turned toward the heavy voice. Their eyes shifted to the man who had just entered, curious and assessing. Shekhawat, tall and composed with a steely gaze, carried an air of confidence as he made his way to the front of the room.

DCP Singh, a seasoned officer known for his fairness but also his high expectations, rose from his seat as Shekhawat approached. The room grew silent, the only sound being the click of Shekhawat's polished shoes against the tiled floor.

"Jai Hind! Sir!" Prithviraj greeted him with a salute.

"Jai Hind! Welcome, ACP Shekhawat," DCP Singh's voice was firm but carried a hint of warmth. "We've been looking forward to your arrival."

DCP Singh gestured for Shekhawat to take a seat at the table. As Shekhawat settled in, DCP Singh addressed the room, "We are privileged to have ACP Shekhawat join our team. His track record speaks volumes about his dedication and expertise. I expect each of you to extend your full support to him as we work together to maintain law and order in our city."

Prithviraj met the entire team. They all gave him a warm welcome, shaking hands and exchanging smiles.

---

Elsewhere in the city, Suraj, a man in his early thirties, ascended the temple stairs with a peaceful smile on his face. He carried a Pooja plate adorned with fresh belpatra, a copper lota filled with water, and a few flowers, all meant for his beloved deity, Lord Shiva.

As he reached the top, he gently rang the temple bell, its soft sound echoing through the serene space. Joining his hands in prayer, he stood before the Shivling, offering the water from the lota with deep reverence. Carefully, he placed the flowers and belpatra on the deity, applying Chandan and kumkum, his lips murmuring a quiet, heartfelt prayer.

"Hey Mahadev! Aapki kripa se aaj phir yeh sukhad pal mila. Aapka aashirwad hum sab par bana rahe. Jab bhi aapko yaad karta hoon, mann ko sukoon milta hai," he whispered, his heart filled with gratitude and peace.

After bowing deeply in devotion, Suraj stood silently, absorbing the tranquility around him. His mind was clear, and there was a lightness in his soul as he offered his prayers with joy and love, finding solace in his connection with Lord Shiva.

As he took the prasad from the priest, he suddenly heard the soft sobs of a child. He turned and saw a little girl, around five years old, standing alone near the temple's entrance, her tiny frame shaking with tears. Concerned, Suraj immediately walked over to her, his face full of kindness.

"Kya hua beta? Aap kyun ro rahi ho?" he asked gently, kneeling beside her.

The little girl looked up at him, her tear-streaked face filled with fear. "Mummy... Papa... main unhe nahi dhoond paa rahi," she said between sobs.

Suraj's heart clenched at her words, as memories of his own childhood flooded back. He, too, had once lost his parents in a crowd—the panic and helplessness still vivid in his mind. But today, it wasn't about his pain; it was about this little girl who needed help.

With a soft smile, he wiped her tears with the edge of his sleeve. "Koi baat nahi, beta. Hum milkar aapke mummy-papa ko dhoondenge. Main hoon na?" he reassured her warmly.

The girl blinked up at him, her sobs quieting as she clung to the hope in his words. "Aap sach mein madad karoge?" she asked, her voice small but trusting.

"Bilkul, main aapke saath hoon," he said gently. He held her tiny hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Chalo, hum yeh dekhte hain ki mummy-papa kahan hain."

As they began walking through the temple grounds, Suraj kept talking to her, distracting her from her fears. "Aapka naam kya hai? Aur mummy-papa ko aapne kahan dekha tha?"

"Main Riya hoon," she said, her voice trembling but a little steadier now. "Mummy-papa mere saath yahi the, phir main bhool gayi."

"Riya, wah! Kitna sundar naam hai aapka!" Suraj said with a smile, making her feel at ease. "Chinta mat karo, hum zaroor unhe dhoond lenge."

As they moved through the crowd, Suraj's eyes scanned every face, searching for any sign of worried parents. He could see the girl beginning to calm down, her trust in him growing with every step. After a few moments, they spotted a couple near the temple gate, anxiously looking around.

"There! Vo rahe aapke mummy-papa," Suraj said, pointing toward them.

Riya's face lit up as she saw her parents. She let go of Suraj's hand and ran toward them, calling out, "Mummy! Papa!"

The couple turned at the sound of her voice, and their expressions softened with relief as they scooped her up in a tight embrace. Suraj watched from a distance, his heart warm as he saw the family reunited.

The girl's father approached him, gratitude written all over his face. "Bhaiya, aapne hamaari beti ko dhoondhne mein madad ki, bahut shukriya."

Suraj smiled and nodded humbly. "Koi baat nahi. Aapko dhyan rakhna chahiye, is mandir mein bheed hoti hai."

As they left with their daughter, Suraj turned back toward the Shivling. For a moment, the memories of his own childhood stirred within him—how he had once felt lost and scared when he lost his parents in a crowd. But unlike back then, he now carried a sense of peace and purpose.

He offered a silent prayer of gratitude to Lord Shiva, thanking him for the strength and guidance to help those in need. With a serene smile on his face, Suraj left the temple, his heart lighter than ever.

---

As ACP Prithviraj stepped out of the National Investigating Agency office, he felt a mix of excitement and anticipation for his new role. The day had gone smoothly, and he decided to visit a nearby tea stall to unwind and relax after a long day of work. The aroma of freshly brewed tea and the bustling chatter of the street provided a comforting backdrop.

As he walked to the tea stall, a young hawker passing by called out to him, "Arey sahab, aap yahan?"

Prithviraj tried to recall him and asked, "Manohar... Manohar, kaise ho tum?"

"Aapki daya se bilkul thik hoon, sahab," Manohar replied with a grin.

"Aur tumhari maa bimar thi, vo kaisi hai ab?" Prithviraj asked further.

"Vo bhi bhagwan ki daya se ekdam thik hai, sahab."

"Chalo bhai, ab ek achhi si chai toh pila do," Prithviraj requested.

"Bilkul sahab, abhi lo," Manohar said and quickly served a refreshing cup of tea to him. Prithviraj sipped it, a smile forming on his face.

"Kya baat hai, Manohar! Chai mein ab bhi wahi baat hai," Prithvi commented.

"Sahab, aapko yaad hai aap yahan ek didi ke saath aaya karte thay? Didi ko humare haath ki kadak adrak wali chai bahut pasand thi. Kahan hai vo?" Manohar asked, catching Prithviraj off guard.

The mention of her name brought back memories. Prithviraj paused, the unexpected reminder stirring emotions he had long kept buried. He remembered their laughter, their conversations, and those shared moments at this very place.

Lost in memories, Prithviraj smiled wistfully, touched by the bittersweet nostalgia. It was a reminder of how life had changed, of relationships that had evolved or faded away. He took another sip of tea, letting the warmth of both the drink and the memories soothe his thoughts.

"Tumhe yaad hai vo?" he asked gently.

"Haan, aur Sahab, vo kitni achhi thi. Aapko pata hai, sahab, mere aur meri behen ke padhai ke paise didi ne hi diye thay," Manohar replied, continuing with his work.

As Prithviraj sat at the tea stall, lost in thought, a sweet memory crossed his mind like a gentle breeze on a summer day. He remembered the time they had spent together, their shared laughter, and the warmth of her presence that always made his heart skip a beat.

One memory stood out vividly: an impromptu picnic by the riverside. It was a beautiful sunny day, and she had surprised him with a basket of his favorite snacks and a heartfelt note expressing her love. They had sat under a shady tree, watching the river flow gently, lost in each other's company.

Prithviraj's lips curled into a soft smile as he recalled how she had teased him about his love for spicy food, and he had playfully defended his taste buds.

"Tikha khane ka shauk hai aur zara dekh lo, aankhon mein paani aa gaya," she had laughed, handing him a tissue to wipe away the tears caused by the overly spicy snack.

They had spent hours by the river, talking about everything and nothing, and he remembered how at peace he had felt with her, as if time had stood still.

Now, sitting at the tea stall, Prithviraj sipped his tea, the memories playing like a silent film in his mind. Even though life had moved on, the echoes of those moments remained, a reminder of a love that had once been a part of him.

Just then, his phone rang, pulling him out of his reverie. It was a message from his colleague, summoning him back to duty.

With a sigh, Prithviraj finished his tea and stood up. "Chal Manohar, aaj ki chai kaafi thi. Fir milenge."

As he walked away from the tea stall, the memories faded into the background, but the warmth they had left behind lingered in his heart.