Chapter: 29; Birthday Of Animesh
One of the few calm days in Delhi was the clear winter morning of the 28th of December 1996. Animesh's mother, Sarita Devi, was busy arranging fresh the marigolds around a tiny cake when the dim winter sun peaked through the openings of his home, illuminating the room with a pleasant radiance.
Sarita Devi twirled the blooms once last time and turned to her husband, Raghav Yadav who sat sipping tea.
"Raghav, have you invited the Sharmas? And don't forget to remind Mr. Gupta," she said fussing with the arrangements.
"Yes, yes," Raghav replied, chuckling. "You've asked me thrice already. Everything is in order."
---
Animesh had devoted the morning to work, as has become his norm. His birthday, to him, meant nothing more than any other day. But as he sat in his room to take a breather, he found an envelope lying on his desk. His name, scrawled in elegant, filmy script, stared at him from there. Vanshika.
Opening the envelope with a mix of curiosity and hesitation, he found inside a well-folded letter and a small gift wrapped in paper.
---
Dear Animesh,
I hope you have the courage and wisdom to realize all of your goals for our nation this year. I won't claim to understand how to put it, but I feel encouraged by your bravery and commitment. I was wishing you to know that even though our lives and circumstances have taken us in various directions, you remain in my heart.
Please accept this small gift — something I thought you might find meaningful. Perhaps one day, we can celebrate together as friends. Until then, I wish you all the happiness and success you deserve.
Yours sincerely,
Vanshika
---
Underneath the letter was the gift: a leather-bound journal with his initials embossed on it. The craftsmanship was elegant, understated, and distinctly Vanshika — thoughtful and refined.
He sat on the bed's edge, holding the letter in one hand and the journal in the other. A faint smile curved his face, but it was tinged with something melancholy. Her words seemed to echo in his head.
---
The evening saw quiet activity in the household. Sarita Devi had managed to keep the guest list to the bare minimum, insisting that it was a family day with close friends. Among the guests was Mr. Sharma, an old colleague of Raghav's, and Mrs. Gupta, who had been a family friend for years.
The living room was modestly decorated with streamers and fairy lights. A table was set with traditional sweets, snacks, and the birthday cake — a simple chocolate sponge adorned with the words Happy Birthday, Animesh.
Guests arrived and greeted Animesh warmly, some with admiration and others with affection.
Look at you, young man," Mr. Sharma said, thumping Animesh on the back. "Running the country and yet making time for your old friends. Your father must be so proud."
Animesh smiled politely, thanking him. For all the weight of his role, moments like these reminded him of his roots.
The guests came closer around the table for cake cutting. Sarita lit up the candles while Raghav encouraged everyone to sing to the tune of Agle Sambandh Saas ki Sab. Animesh wasn't habituated to such importance; he looked a little red, but he followed along in tradition.
"Make a wish, son," Sarita asked, smiling.
Animesh closed his eyes briefly, not for a wish but to reflect. He thought of his parents, the responsibilities he bore, and the letter he had received from Vanshika. When he opened his eyes, he blew out the candles to applause.
As soon as the cake was cut, the family sat together, telling the stories and laughed. Raghav regaled the group with tales of Animesh's childhood, much to his son's dismay.
"Did you know," Raghav started, "when Animesh was yen, he attempted to persuade the entire class to vote for him as class monitor? He even made campaign posters!"
"Papa, please," Animesh protested, though he couldn't help but laugh along.
As the guests departed, the house grew quiet again. Animesh sat alone in the living room, the letter from Vanshika was on the coffee table in front of him. His mother entered, carrying boiled milk.
"Here," she said, placing it in front of him. "You've had a long day."
"Thank you, Ma," he replied, his voice was soft.
She saw the letter from the name written on the letter but she didn't say anything about it and asked something else.
Sarita sat beside him, studying his face. "You've done so much, beta. But sometimes, I wonder if you let yourself rest."
"I'll rest when there's less to do," he said with a faint smile.
She put a hand on his. "Just remember, no matter how big your responsibilities are, you're still our son. You don't have to carry everything alone."
Animesh nodded, her words offering a comfort he hadn't realized he needed.
---
It was night time, and Animesh picked up the diary and wrote on the date.
December 28, 1996
Another year, another set of struggles. Today, I had a reminder of the simpler things: my family, my friends, and moments of silence. Vanshika's letter was an unexpected surprise, though maybe it's time for me to remind myself of my own humanity again.
The road ahead is long, and the battles will be fierce. But tonight, I am grateful. Grateful for my parents, who ground me. Grateful for the opportunity to serve. And grateful for the small acts of kindness that remind me why I do this.
He put the diary back, set up his telescope, and spent some quiet time gazing at the stars. He never knew why, but the infinite view of the sky always had a calming effect on him.
Unable to sleep, Animesh finally decided to call Vanshika. His heart beat a little faster as he dialed her number.
"Hello?" Her voice was calm.
"Vanshika, it's me."
"Hmm. Happy Birthday, Animesh!"
"Thank. you!"
There was a pause. "Animesh! I wasn't expecting your call. Is everything alright?"
"Yes," he said hastily. "I just wanted to thank you for the gift and the letter. It. meant a lot."
She laughed softly. "I'm glad. I wasn't sure if you'd like it."
"I did," he replied. "It's perfect."
They spoke for a while, their conversation easy yet tinged with the unspoken weight of their history. After hanging up, Animesh felt a rare sense of lightness.
The following morning was a heavy day, with much unfinished work.
At breakfast, sitting with his parents, he glanced down at the newspaper spread on the table. Headlines to be expected — debates raged on about recent amendments in the laws, discussions had begun over new infrastructure projects, and whispers of complaints in certain districts.
He could feel his mother's hand on his arm. "Beta, you are still thinking again. You can't solve everything in one day.
Animesh gave a faint smile. "I know, Ma. But the country doesn't wait."
Raghav Yadav, sipping his tea, interjected. "It's good to be determined, Animesh, but don't forget to balance it. You have a vision — that's clear. But you'll need to build a bridge between the people and that vision."
"Papa, Ma," Animesh said after a pause, "I want to discuss something."
"Hmm. Is there something, beta?" Sarita asked noticing his serious expression.
" I want you to resign from the Members of Parliament and open companies," Animesh said in a hesitant yet firm tone.
Raghav didn't reply but kept looking into the eyes of Animesh for a very long time. Finally, he asked, "What do you actually want?"
He knew his son didn't take decisions lightly, and when he did, he carried full responsibility. Raghav's voice was calm, but his words carried weight.
[A/N]
There is some error in timeline, don't worry there won't be from the next. And from the new year, the system will be finalized and the real development will starts from the next year.
"I hope you will support me, with ps."
Until then, have a good day.