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Raghav laughs, relishing my distress.
“I get that kind of warning every other day from my adversaries, but it’s a different experience coming from my own brother. Therefore, I accept your challenge. If you find me today, and we come face to face, I won’t let you leave unscathed either. This time, it would be You versus Me. Twin versus Twin.”
The call disconnects as I park the car and rush inside the gates of the Krida Udhyan to look for him. I weave through the crowd, searching for Raghav’s elusive presence amidst the sea of faces. The challenge is daunting; hundreds of people have gathered here, providing ample cover for someone intent on hiding. How do I find him in this chaotic assembly without causing a stir?
As I approach the stage where Pratap Walia is addressing the crowd, Vishnu’s eyes lock onto mine. He recognises the determination in my gaze. I don’t want to disrupt the speech or cause any panic among the audience. Vishnu, always alert and vigilant, gives a curt nod from the stage, assuring me that he is scanning the surroundings for any signs of trouble.
On the stage, my father, Kailash, observes me suspiciously. His gaze questions my presence, silently asking me what I am doing here. I gesture to him to calm down and continue to move through the crowd, my eyes scanning the faces, searching for that one man whose threats have disrupted the peace of both families.
Krish’s voice resonates in my ear through the Bluetooth earpiece.
“I spoke to the guards with Meher and asked them to be vigilant. I will reach there in 20 minutes and personally escort her back home safely.”
Relief washes over me that he could connect with Meher’s guards at the family event. But I still continue to search for Raghav. Where could he possibly be hiding among this crowd?
“I’m at the campaign. No signs of Raghav yet,” I report, seething with anger.
Until I find Raghav, I won’t know the extent of his plans. His threats can’t be taken lightly, especially after the recent attacks on our homes. I spot a figure, mirroring my build, quietly walking away with a hat covering his face. My instincts kick in, and I rush towards the figure, only to discover that it’s not Raghav. I clench my jaw and continue scanning while disconnecting Krish’s call.
Just then, Raghav’s name flashes on my phone screen again. I answer almost immediately, only to be greeted by his unsettling laughter.
“Ayaan Ayaan Ayaan!! I can’t believe you trust me so much that you actually thought I planted some threat here to ruin this campaign and take revenge on the Walias and Shergills. You didn’t even think twice before coming here yourself and checking the security measures.”
I grit my teeth, searching for any sign of him as Raghav continues to taunt me.
“It’s so easy to manipulate you these days. I can easily make you dance to my tunes, just like a puppet. I am really loving it.”
It dawns on me that Raghav, wherever he is, has eyes on me. He can see me, but I can’t see him. That’s how he knows I am here. As if reading my thoughts, Raghav confirms the same.
“Yes, Ayaan. I told you I’m a man of many faces, and you wouldn’t even know which one is looking at you. My eyes are on you. This helplessness, anger, and, most importantly, the fear of losing someone you love suits you. Now find me if you can, brother.” He laughs again and disconnects the call.
I’m filled with frustration, surrounded by a horde of faces, each potentially concealing the one I seek. Raghav’s mind games are becoming more intense, and I must navigate through this crowd to unravel his web of deception before it ensnares those I hold dear.
I halt, shutting my eyes to concentrate on any hint I might have missed. The discordance of the surroundings fades away as I delve into my thoughts. Recollection hits me—the echo of Raghav’s voice through the loudspeakers.I open my eyes, scanning the vicinity. Three speakers stand out, each a potential hiding spot. The first, near the stage, is heavily guarded. The second, at the left corner, is surrounded by policemen and security dogs. The third, close to the exit and parking, beckons my attention. Raghav has to be there, considering if he has to leave this place, he would stand somewhere closer to the exit.
Without hesitation, I rush towards the exit, surrounded by seclusion and quietude. Although there is no one here, the open space with the cars parked at the borderline is enough to give a clear view of the man standing by his vintage car a mere few feet away. My eyes lock with Raghav, and we are both boiling with rage. Annoyance creases Raghav’s face that I could find him.
Anger simmers through my blood, and without a second’s delay, I lunge forward, aiming to strike. Raghav, too, doesn’t just defend himself but retaliates by hitting his fist on my gut, igniting my fury. Our fists swing in a fierce exchange of blows, groans filling the air, and neither of us is willing to back down.
“I warned you to stay away,” I scowl, my punch connecting with Raghav’s jaw so hard that I feel its impact shoot up in my arm.
“I’ll keep on hurting them till you realise you are on the wrong side,” he shouts back, countering with a quick jab to my side.
No more words are exchanged between us after that, as we both stand firm to our reasonings. In the madness of the dark power and the urge to support his father, Raghav might choose to take revenge on the innocents, but I wouldn’t let him harm my family anymore. Even if I have to take his life, I will, because I know he, too, would do the same if I attack his empire or the father we unfortunately share. I kick his thigh, jolting him behind, but he once again regains the balance and lunges forward to kick my waist. People like him only understand one language – the language of pain and destruction. So that’s the only thing he will get from me. With every blow, I make it clear that I won’t be manipulated any longer. Each blow echoes the tension that has built up over time, a physical release of pent-up anger and frustration ever since we met. Each blow bears the weight of the resentment hidden deep within our hearts. The impact reverberates through my knuckles as my fist meets Raghav’s resilient jaw. He retaliates with a swift jab to my chest, the force almost knocking me off balance. But I regain my stance, fuelled by the burning desire to settle the score again.
The echo of our strained breaths mingles with the distant sounds coming from the speakers, signalling the campaign is coming to an end. We are equally built and equally strong; hence, none of us concedes nor is willing to back down.
My next punch lands square on Raghav’s nose. Blood spurts from his injured nose. His face contorts in pain, but he is undeterred as he wipes away the blood and retaliates with a punishing blow to my chest again. The impact vibrates through my ribcage, but I refuse to surrender. The brawl, an exchange of punches and jabs, intensifies. The fight is not just physical anymore but a battle of conflicting ideologies and personal vendettas, wherein each of us is striving to gain the upper hand. The line between enmity blurs, and only the primal urge for dominance pulls us forward. We are like two titans, locked in an epic clash, each refusing to be defeated.
I strike and push Raghav onto the hood of his car, and his forearm hits the side mirror, causing a bruise. Raghav gets up, ready to retaliate, just as I prepare for another punch. However, Dad intervenes, pushing both of us away.
“Enough from both of you.” Dad, who had been part of the campaign until now, steps between us, arms outstretched, determined to keep us at a distance.
“Dad, move away,” I scowl, attempting to reach Raghav, but Dad pushes me back.
“Stop this fighting, Ayaan. Settling problems doesn’t involve resorting to physical blows. He’s your brother.”
“He’s a criminal,” I retort fiercely. “And that’s how criminals should be dealt with.”
