After the gruesome battle, Reddy moved swiftly and efficiently, ensuring that the dead bodies were cleared away and any trace of the bloodshed was erased. The aftermath of the fight was handled with a precision that only someone experienced in such grim tasks could manage. Brahma, his job done, promised we'd meet later for the famous Rajwadi Chai, a ritual of ours that symbolized camaraderie and closure after a hard day's work.
As Reddy and Brahma departed, the scene was cleaned, and the bodies disposed of, we called the police. When they arrived, they surveyed the scene with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. One of the officers, his eyes narrowing, asked, "Who shot Vasudha's father?"
Before I could speak, Vamsi stepped forward. "I did," he said calmly. "He tried to run out of fear."
Vasudha and her father, still visibly shaken, remained silent. They knew better than to contradict our story, especially when the truth could further complicate their situation. The police, seemingly satisfied with Vamsi's explanation, began to process the scene.
Before the police took Vasudha and her father away, we decided to capture the moment, a macabre memory of our bizarre adventure. Gathering together, we took a group selfie with Vasudha and her father, their expressions a mixture of defeat and resignation. It was a strange memento, a reminder of the chaotic events that had unfolded.
If you're wondering why we didn't tell the police about Jaidev, it's simple: without solid proof, it would be useless. Jaidev was a powerful man, and accusations without evidence would only backfire. Besides, I had my own plans for him. I intended to handle Jaidev myself, in my own way.
With the police gone and Vasudha and her father taken into custody, we made our way to meet Brahma. Athreya and the others were visibly nervous. Meeting Brahma, one of the most influential men in Andhra Pradesh, was no small event. His reputation preceded him, and his presence commanded respect and awe.
We arrived at a quaint, traditional tea stall known for serving the best Rajwadi Chai in Rajasthan. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the bustling streets as we took our seats. Despite the heat, the promise of the famous tea drew us in.
As we sat down, the aroma of the chai wafted through the air, mixing with the earthy scent of the rain-soaked ground. The first sip of the hot Rajwadi Chai was an experience in itself. The strong, spiced tea warmed us from the inside, a stark contrast to the sweltering heat of the day.
Brahma was already there, his presence commanding the small space around him. He looked at us, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he observed our nervousness. "Relax," he said, his voice deep and reassuring. "We're here to enjoy tea, not conduct business."
With that, the tension eased, and I introduced Athreya, Sneha, and Bobby to Brahma. They greeted him with a mix of respect and awe, clearly understanding the weight of his influence.
As we chatted and laughed, the initial nerves faded away, replaced by a sense of camaraderie. It was an interesting experience, drinking tea with such a diverse group in the heart of Rajasthan. The conversations flowed as easily as the chai, bridging the gap between our different worlds.
After finishing our tea, we stood up, the day's events replaying in our minds. I looked at Brahma, knowing that our paths would cross again soon. "We'll meet again," I said, clasping his hand.
Brahma nodded, a knowing smile on his face. "Until then, stay safe."
With that, we parted ways, each of us heading in different directions. The promise of future adventures and the shared experiences bound us together, despite the paths we would take. As we walked away from the tea stall, the sky darkening with the onset of night, I knew that the journey was far from over. There were still battles to be fought, truths to be uncovered, and a powerful enemy to bring down. But for now, we had the memory of this day, the taste of Rajwadi Chai lingering on our tongues, and the bond of friendship that would see us through.
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We now in Andhra Pradesh, stood in front of the modest grave that Athreya often visited. The sky was overcast, a gentle breeze stirring the leaves around us. Sneha, her voice tinged with curiosity and concern, turned to Athreya and asked, "You know that your mother wasn't cremated here, so why do you always come here?"
Athreya gazed at the gravestone, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion. "Only Agent Athreya knows that my mother, Mahalakshmi, isn't here. But Mahalakshmi's son, Seenu, doesn't know it," he replied softly, his voice carrying the weight of a son's love and a secret agent's burden.
Moved by his words, I stepped closer to Athreya and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Everything is fine," I reassured him, feeling the silent bond of our shared experiences.
We stood there in silence for a while, the moment heavy with unspoken words and mutual understanding. Finally, I broke the silence, addressing everyone. "Guys, it's time for me to take my leave. It's been really good working with you all."
They all smiled, and we moved closer for a group hug. Sneha, a little emotional, held on a bit longer. I placed a gentle hand on her head and smiled warmly. "Don't worry, we'll meet again soon. Remember, you have a brother in me. If you need anything, or if Athreya irritates you, just call me, okay?"
She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as we laughed softly.
Bobby cleared his throat and said, "Okay, guys, I also have to leave now. My train will leave in a couple of hours. If you need any help, think of me. Hassan, Karnataka, my headquarters are located there. Ask about the famous detective, and they'll guide you to me."
We nodded, each of us understanding the bond we shared despite our different paths. I hugged them all again, turning to Vamsi with a grin. "I already talked to Brahma about your promotion. You don't have to worry."
A broad smile spread across Vamsi's face. "Thank you," he said, his gratitude evident.
With farewells exchanged, I headed to my car. As I opened the door, I took one last look at my friends, feeling a mix of pride and sadness. "Take care, everyone," I said, and they echoed the sentiment.
I started the car and began to drive away, the figures of my friends growing smaller in the rearview mirror. The road ahead was long and uncertain, but the bonds we'd forged and the experiences we'd shared gave me strength. As the miles stretched out before me, I knew this wasn't the end. It was merely the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with promise, challenges, and the unwavering support of friends who had become family.
(A/N: The Athreya's story is done, guys. 🙂)
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I was cruising down National Highway 16, the familiar stretch of road leading me to Guntur. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the expansive, open road ahead allowed my mind to wander. I was certain Anu had already informed Raji that I had been in Nellore. Anu and Ammu had called me several times, but despite knowing I was here, Raji hadn't reached out. It could only mean one thing—she was still angry with me. If I didn't make things right, this situation could spiral into a disaster.
A heavy sigh escaped my lips. "What a life," I muttered to myself, "but honestly, it's the best life I could ever wish for. Loving friends and family, the girls I care about deeply, and enough money to be comfortable—what more could I ask for?" The thought was a comforting one, and I let it settle as I focused on the road ahead.
After about three and a half hours of driving, I finally reached Guntur. Exiting the highway, I navigated towards Burripalem, a quaint village known for its agricultural roots. Burripalem's modest population was primarily engaged in farming, with chilli production being a significant part of the local economy alongside paddy and other crops.
The scenery began to shift as I drove further into the village. The urban landscape gradually gave way to lush green fields and simple, rustic homes. The evening sun was setting, casting a warm, golden hue over everything. It was a peaceful, picturesque scene straight out of a painting.
Eventually, I arrived at a large house on the outskirts of the village. Outside, several trucks were lined up, and people were busily loading them with sacks of bright red chillies. The air was thick with the pungent, sharp scent of the chillies, mingling with the earthy smell of the countryside.
Entering through the gate, I parked the car in front of the main door and stepped out into the warm embrace of the evening. The soft glow of twilight cast a serene ambiance over the surroundings, enhancing the beauty of Raji standing on the gallery in a simple saree, holding a book in her hand. Her expression, typically inscrutable, betrayed no emotions, yet I knew her well enough to sense the underlying happiness that my arrival had stirred.Typical of her Tsundere personality.
Our eyes met, and for a moment, we simply stared at each other in silence, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Before I could gather my thoughts, Samba, Raji's brother, approached with a warm smile on his face. Samba was always jovial and greeted me affectionately.
"Jiju, how are you?" Samba exclaimed as he reached me, enveloping me in a brotherly hug.
"I'm fine, Samba. How's everything going?" I replied, returning his smile.
"As always," he chuckled, glancing towards Raji, who was still watching us from the gallery.
Leaning in closer, I whispered, "Hey Samba, why are you calling me 'Jiju' so respectfully? I'm younger than you. Just call me by my name."
Samba glanced nervously at Raji and replied in a low voice, "Krishna, if I do that, Raji will kill me. She insisted I call you 'Jiju.' Look, she's still staring at us."
I chuckled softly, understanding Raji's protective nature towards me. "Alright then, 'Jiju' it is," I agreed with a grin.
Samba gestured towards the house and said, "Let's go inside."
Nodding in agreement, I glanced around before asking casually, "Where's that weirdo?"
Pointing towards a warehouse a short distance away from the house, Samba replied with a grin, "Ramana Bhaiyya is in the warehouse."
"Good to know," I remarked with a nod, sharing his smile as we began to make our way inside.
I followed Samba towards the entrance, where Raji swiftly descended the stairs to join us. Her steps were graceful, and the slight smile that now graced her lips.
As we moved towards the entrance, I heard Raji's voice from downstairs, announcing my arrival, "Ma, Krishna is here."
"Ah, so he's come," Uncle Rangam responded with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Upon hearing this, Aunt Bujji chimed in, "Raji, tell him to wait at the door. I need to ward off the evil eye from my Damad (Nazar utarne)."
Raji nodded in agreement and, accompanied by Uncle Rangam, she came to the entrance. Just as I was about to step inside, Uncle Rangam halted me with a friendly gesture, "Krishna, wait a moment. Bujji wants to perform Nazar utarna."
Smilingly, I stopped and nodded in acknowledgment. Uncle Rangam continued, "How was your journey?"
"It was good, Uncle Rangam," I replied warmly.
Raji glanced at me, and I quickly corrected myself, "I mean Papa," with a gentle smile.
Uncle Rangam chuckled heartily, "Hahaha, that's good to hear. We watched your press conference and heard about your plans. It seems beneficial for the farmers."
"Thank you," I said sincerely, looking towards Raji. "Papa."
At that moment, Aunt Bujji appeared with a pumpkin in hand and directed Raji and Uncle Rangam to move aside. She proceeded to gently wave the pumpkin in a clockwise circle around me, murmuring a protective incantation. Once done, she handed the pumpkin to Samba with instructions, "Samba, throw this away."
Samba nodded dutifully, "Yes, ma'am," and took the pumpkin from her, hurrying off to dispose of it. As he left, Aunt Bujji gestured towards the doorway, "Krishna, please come inside."
I smiled and nodded in response, following them into the house. However, despite the warm welcome, Raji had yet to speak to me.
(Word's Count:2093)