It had been a long day for Rohan. The nuclear test in Pokhran had changed everything. The world was now looking at India differently, with questions and tensions rising.
After all the speeches, the meetings, and the constant flow of information, he needed to leave it all behind for a while.
The cold air of the February night clung to Rohan as he stepped out of his car, shutting the door with a soft thud.
Looking at his house, beyond those doors, was the warmth he craved, a place where he could forget, even if just for a few hours, about the chaos that waited for him tomorrow.
And it hit him as soon as he stepped inside. The house felt alive, welcoming in a way that only home could.
The scent of dinner, the voices from the living room, the familiar sound of footsteps, it all grounded him, reminding him that there was more to life than the battles he fought outside these walls.
