31-01-2026, 05:41 PM
Chapter 22: Mirnaa hears the pain of Vikram..
Doctors treated him. He was unconscious for almost 8 hours.
Mirna carefully took care of him. She got hold of his mobile and tried to check for any contacts—dad, mom, wife, or even girlfriend. Nothing. Only two names: Sekaran and Mohan.
She remembered Mohan calling earlier, telling her he would reach in 2 days—he was out of station—and that he had sent some money through someone. Sekaran was unreachable.
The old constable who saw him first in the camp—when no one wanted him treated—lingered by Vikram’s cot all these hours. He collected all intel on him. His boots scuffing the dirt floor every fifteen minutes, until he settled into a chair.
Mirna was always inside Vikram’s room. She didn’t leave him.
Looking at her, the constable decided to thank her. His voice low and gravelly as he spoke to Mirna.
"Thank you. If all nurses were like you, India would be peaceful."
Mirna looked up, surprised.
The constable continued, eyes distant. "This guy is an orphan."
Mirna got a hit—she was one too. She listened.
The constable continued, eyes distant, voice low like he was reciting a story he had carried for years.
“Family turned on him,” he began. “Raised by relatives after his parents passed early. Sharp as a tack—topped college, first in his academy batch, mechanical engineering degree in hand. But they saw him as a burden. A girl in the family—his cousin’s fiancée—wanted him out of the picture. They framed him for theft, pinned a gold ring and cash missing on him. All lies. Threw him out of the house. He walked away with nothing but the clothes on his back and that crumpled degree certificate.”
Mirna’s fingers slowed on the damp cloth she was using to clean Vikram’s brow. She listened, chest tightening.
“He came to Chennai,” the constable went on. “Tried to start fresh. Found a cheap room, you would have saw a old man calling in the name Mohan? He was the owner of the mansion he stayed. Vikram then hunted jobs in workshops. He got new friends there Ramesh and Suresh…
Then another woman entered his life—Malavika. Suresh’s girlfriend. The one who got him the job at the loan company.
She acted like a sister—called him ‘anna,’ helped him with targets, shared tea, even let him drive her on Suresh’s bike. Everyone knows this then suddenly one day she claimed VIkram molested her and tried to force her. There was a witness, there was this manager Kaushik, who heroically saved her…
Everyone believed.. But it is said that.. Malavika and Kaushik were in an affair, seems like Vikram found it.. I don't know but somehow they framed him. The worst part is Suresh believed her. The mansion threw him out. That was the second time a woman broke him.”
Mirna’s breath caught. She looked down at Vikram’s bruised face—swollen eye, split lip, the quiet rise and fall of his chest.
Constable exhaled and said glad Mohan did not believe the story of Malavika,, he secretly send him out for a better place..
“He never fought back the way most men would,” the constable said softly. “Never raised a hand. Never screamed. Just… took it. Again and again. Rough life, none of it his doing.”
He stood, adjusted his cap. “I don’t know what he’s doing now. My circle says he worked for a big-shot politician, Sekaran. Vikram was good—he got taken care of like Sekaran’s own son. But after Sekaran settled with his daughter in the USA… he moved to another politician.
Looks like he got into new trouble there. I’m not sure what happened in the new place, but all I know and heard is he is truly a gold person indeed—brilliant. Could have been an engineer, but people’s selfishness punished him.”
The constable smiled faintly. “My duty will be shifted to a nearby event tomorrow. He has no one. You should continue to take care of him.”
Mirna nodded, eyes still on Vikram. The constable walked away, boots scuffing the dirt floor one last time.
She stayed.
Minutes later, Vikram cracked an eye again, and there she was—Mirna, tears tracing her cheeks, her quiet sobs a testament to the pity she felt for a stranger’s pain.
Before she could see him opening eyes.. He gone back to unconscious state… She brushed tears away quickly, tending to him with care—lifting a cup of water to his cracked lips, adjusting the bandage on his arm—her presence a lifeline he couldn’t name.
In the evening…
The nun came and said, “Only two more days the camp will be here. I’m planning to send someone here to take care… start packing your stuff.”
She went.
The stories she heard on Vikram, his state… she resolved she should not leave him. But she was torn between the nun’s words and her thoughts—the nun who brought her up.
She decided to take care the best she can in whatever days she can. He has no one and he is just like me..
She slept near the bed
Vikram eyes moved again..
Doctors treated him. He was unconscious for almost 8 hours.
Mirna carefully took care of him. She got hold of his mobile and tried to check for any contacts—dad, mom, wife, or even girlfriend. Nothing. Only two names: Sekaran and Mohan.
She remembered Mohan calling earlier, telling her he would reach in 2 days—he was out of station—and that he had sent some money through someone. Sekaran was unreachable.
The old constable who saw him first in the camp—when no one wanted him treated—lingered by Vikram’s cot all these hours. He collected all intel on him. His boots scuffing the dirt floor every fifteen minutes, until he settled into a chair.
Mirna was always inside Vikram’s room. She didn’t leave him.
Looking at her, the constable decided to thank her. His voice low and gravelly as he spoke to Mirna.
"Thank you. If all nurses were like you, India would be peaceful."
Mirna looked up, surprised.
The constable continued, eyes distant. "This guy is an orphan."
Mirna got a hit—she was one too. She listened.
The constable continued, eyes distant, voice low like he was reciting a story he had carried for years.
“Family turned on him,” he began. “Raised by relatives after his parents passed early. Sharp as a tack—topped college, first in his academy batch, mechanical engineering degree in hand. But they saw him as a burden. A girl in the family—his cousin’s fiancée—wanted him out of the picture. They framed him for theft, pinned a gold ring and cash missing on him. All lies. Threw him out of the house. He walked away with nothing but the clothes on his back and that crumpled degree certificate.”
Mirna’s fingers slowed on the damp cloth she was using to clean Vikram’s brow. She listened, chest tightening.
“He came to Chennai,” the constable went on. “Tried to start fresh. Found a cheap room, you would have saw a old man calling in the name Mohan? He was the owner of the mansion he stayed. Vikram then hunted jobs in workshops. He got new friends there Ramesh and Suresh…
Then another woman entered his life—Malavika. Suresh’s girlfriend. The one who got him the job at the loan company.
She acted like a sister—called him ‘anna,’ helped him with targets, shared tea, even let him drive her on Suresh’s bike. Everyone knows this then suddenly one day she claimed VIkram molested her and tried to force her. There was a witness, there was this manager Kaushik, who heroically saved her…
Everyone believed.. But it is said that.. Malavika and Kaushik were in an affair, seems like Vikram found it.. I don't know but somehow they framed him. The worst part is Suresh believed her. The mansion threw him out. That was the second time a woman broke him.”
Mirna’s breath caught. She looked down at Vikram’s bruised face—swollen eye, split lip, the quiet rise and fall of his chest.
Constable exhaled and said glad Mohan did not believe the story of Malavika,, he secretly send him out for a better place..
“He never fought back the way most men would,” the constable said softly. “Never raised a hand. Never screamed. Just… took it. Again and again. Rough life, none of it his doing.”
He stood, adjusted his cap. “I don’t know what he’s doing now. My circle says he worked for a big-shot politician, Sekaran. Vikram was good—he got taken care of like Sekaran’s own son. But after Sekaran settled with his daughter in the USA… he moved to another politician.
Looks like he got into new trouble there. I’m not sure what happened in the new place, but all I know and heard is he is truly a gold person indeed—brilliant. Could have been an engineer, but people’s selfishness punished him.”
The constable smiled faintly. “My duty will be shifted to a nearby event tomorrow. He has no one. You should continue to take care of him.”
Mirna nodded, eyes still on Vikram. The constable walked away, boots scuffing the dirt floor one last time.
She stayed.
Minutes later, Vikram cracked an eye again, and there she was—Mirna, tears tracing her cheeks, her quiet sobs a testament to the pity she felt for a stranger’s pain.
Before she could see him opening eyes.. He gone back to unconscious state… She brushed tears away quickly, tending to him with care—lifting a cup of water to his cracked lips, adjusting the bandage on his arm—her presence a lifeline he couldn’t name.
In the evening…
The nun came and said, “Only two more days the camp will be here. I’m planning to send someone here to take care… start packing your stuff.”
She went.
The stories she heard on Vikram, his state… she resolved she should not leave him. But she was torn between the nun’s words and her thoughts—the nun who brought her up.
She decided to take care the best she can in whatever days she can. He has no one and he is just like me..
She slept near the bed
Vikram eyes moved again..
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