---
Mukesh sat quietly on a bench outside the hospital, beside his father.
His eyes were fixed on something ahead—a narrow stream of water.
It wasn't clean. The water looked dark, slightly green, almost dirty.
Yet inside it… there were dozens of fish.
Small ones. Medium ones. All moving together in a restless crowd.
Mukesh spoke slowly, his voice weak but thoughtful.
"Dad… the water is so dirty…
but there are so many fish…"
His father looked at the stream, then at Mukesh.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Life is like that, Mukesh."
Mukesh turned his head slightly.
"In crowded places, you'll always find more people…
but the real ones… are usually found far away, in silence."
Mukesh didn't reply.
He simply stared at the water again…
as if trying to understand his own life through it.
---
"Come," his mother called from behind,
"the doctor is waiting."
---
Inside the hospital, Mukesh was taken for physical tests.
A nurse pointed at a straight line drawn on the floor.
"Walk on this line."
Mukesh hesitated.
His legs felt weak… almost lifeless.
Still, he tried.
One step.
Then another.
His body trembled.
He lost balance slightly—but didn't fall.
"Keep going," the nurse said calmly.
---
Then came the reflex test.
A small hammer tapped against his knee.
Tap.
"Relax," the doctor said.
Mukesh's reaction was slow.
The doctor wrote something down.
---
After multiple tests…
The final day arrived.
Discharge day.
---
Mukesh sat on the bed, looking around the hospital room.
For the first time in days—
he felt something close to relief.
"I'm finally leaving…" he whispered.
---
That evening, Mukesh and his father stepped outside for a short walk.
The sky was turning orange.
The air felt different.
Free.
---
Mukesh suddenly spoke—
"Dad… should we buy a lottery ticket?"
His father looked at him, slightly surprised.
"A lottery ticket?"
Mukesh nodded faintly.
"What if we win?"
His father laughed softly.
"I've tried many times, Mukesh…
never won even once."
Mukesh replied, almost seriously—
"Then maybe this time it will work."
His father shook his head, smiling.
"You really believe in luck, huh?"
Mukesh looked away.
"Not really…
but it's better than believing in nothing."
---
They walked toward the small hospital garden and sat down.
There was no network inside the building, so his father made a call from outside.
At home, only Abhi and Nagesh were there.
Everything sounded normal…
until voices rose.
An argument.
Something about family issues… tension between relatives.
Mukesh stayed silent.
But inside, something tightened.
"…Is this because of us?" he thought.
"…because we left…?"
Old memories came back.
The fight between his mother and his aunt.
The distance between families.
The broken connections.
---
That night, Mukesh returned to his bed.
He didn't speak much.
---
The next morning, he looked at his mother and said quietly—
"Let's go home."
His mother looked at him, her tired eyes softening.
"Okay… just wait for your father."
---
Soon after—
they left the hospital.
---
On the way, Mukesh suddenly said—
"Dad… I want to drink something."
His father immediately stopped and bought him a juice.
Mukesh held it slowly.
Took a sip.
---
Then—
he saw it.
---
A large gate.
Behind it…
a familiar house.
Two rooms upstairs.
Two rooms downstairs.
---
Mukesh froze.
"…No…"
His thoughts shook.
"Please… don't let it be the same place…"
---
But it was.
---
The same house.
The same place.
The same memories.
---
Flashback—
A younger Mukesh sitting on the floor, eating with his family.
A girl running toward him.
Grabbing his shirt collar.
"Come play with me!"
Her voice was bright. Alive.
---
Back to present—
Mukesh lowered his eyes.
"…Barbie doll…"
That's what he used to call her.
---
"I wish… I had understood her feelings back then…"
---
He said nothing more.
---
But deep inside—
something painful had returned.
Not illness.
Not weakness.
---
Regret.