The clock struck 5:30 Pm in the office clock, signaling the end of the workday for the employees. Shaurya, as usual, stretched back in his chair, feeling the stiffness in his shoulders. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the final email he just sent off with a slight sense of accomplishment settling over him. He might not have most exciting job but it does give him a sense of pride and brings him peace for some time.

Shaurya looked outside where the golden hour was casting a beautiful glow over the bustling streets of the city. He packed his things and called his best-friend, Ravi, who worked on the other side of the building. "Ravi, I am heading out now to Bala's tea stall. Will you be joining me?" He asked as he walked down the corridor.

"You know it. Meet you there in 5". Ravi's voice came through with its usual cheeriness. Shaurya grinned, hanging up as he stepped out into the open air. The familiar noise of the city greeted him. He walked up to Bala's tea stall had become part of his daily routine. The tea, banter with Ravi. And the bustling sound of evening traffic gave him a sense of belonging.

Shaurya's life was simple. He had a decent salary, a steady job and a life-long best-friend. The only thing missing from his life are family, since he is an orphan, and a girl-friend. There is a girl, he has crush on but he hasn't asked her out yet. Along with these things, there is one more thing Shaurya feels truly happy to do and that is helping others especially giving donations. 

Shaurya was orphaned at a young age in a car accident. So, he knows the helplessness and tries to help others avoid it by helping them whenever he could. Ravi sometimes compares him to Suryaputra Karna, his favorite mythological character saying that if he continued to do this charity work then someone will take advantage of him like they did with Karna, when Indra asked for his Kavach and Kundal in alms so that Karna's defense becomes weak.

After arriving at Bala's stall, he saw Ravi was already there, leaning against the counter with his usual smile. Bala, the elderly man who ran the stall, greeted them both with a nod, already preparing two cups of tea for them as usual. "Had a long day?" Ravi asks while taking a sip of the tea.

"No. Just the usual work, nothing tiring," Shaurya replies with his voice relaxing while he took the cup of tea from Bala.

"Just the usual. Work, emails, more work," Shaurya replied, his voice relaxed as he took the cup from Bala. He handed over a few rupees as payment, then turned to lean against the counter, watching the evening rush unfold.

Ravi sighed dramatically. "Man, you really need to take a break. You know, like Karna would—uh, wait, bad example. That guy didn't know when to take a break either!"

Shaurya chuckled softly. "Karna had no choice. The world gave him nothing, and yet he still gave everything in return. He couldn't just sit back and relax. It's like that for some people."

Ravi shook his head with a grin. "You and Karna… always thinking about him. You really see yourself in him, don't you?"

Shaurya nodded thoughtfully, staring into his tea. "Karna was wronged, Ravi. He was born into unfortunate circumstances, judged unfairly, and no matter what he did, he was never fully accepted. But he still followed dharma, still gave selflessly. That's what makes him a hero. I admire that."

Ravi leaned back, crossing his arms. "You're a hero too, Shaurya. I see you every day, handing out money to beggars, helping strangers. You live like Karna, man, but one of these days you'll need to learn to live for yourself too."

Shaurya smiled, shaking his head. "I live enough for myself. Helping others is what gives me purpose."

Just as they were finishing their tea, Shaurya noticed a frail old woman approaching, walking slowly with a stick. Her clothes were worn and tattered, and her eyes were tired, but they brightened when she saw the tea stall.

She asked Bala softly, "Could I have just one cup of tea? I'll pay you tomorrow."

Bala, kind as always, nodded, starting to prepare her tea without hesitation. But Shaurya, without missing a beat, reached into his pocket and handed her enough money to cover the tea.

"No need to worry about tomorrow," Shaurya said with a gentle smile. "Please, have it."

The woman looked up at him, surprised and deeply touched. "Bless you, my son," she whispered, her eyes welling with gratitude.

Shaurya only nodded, stepping back as she took her tea. To him, it wasn't much—a small gesture, a simple act—but it reminded him of Karna's lifelong vow to give, even when he had nothing.

Ravi watched quietly, knowing this was just another ordinary moment in Shaurya's life. They chatted for a bit longer before Shaurya decided it was time to head home. He waved goodbye to Ravi and Bala, promising to meet them again tomorrow.

As he walked toward the bus stop, the streets of Tamil Nadu were alive with the sounds of evening prayers from nearby temples, the fragrant scent of incense hanging in the air. Shaurya had always found solace in his spirituality. His belief in dharma guided his actions, and his connection to characters like Karna deepened his understanding of life's complexities.

On his way, he noticed a group of children playing by the side of the road, laughing as they kicked a makeshift ball around. Shaurya couldn't help but smile, but his attention was quickly drawn to a beggar sitting under a tree nearby. The man was elderly and homeless, his hands trembling as he extended a small tin cup. Shaurya paused, his hand automatically reaching into his pocket.

This was who Shaurya was. He just couldn't ignore someone in need. He walked over and dropped some money into the man's cup, giving him a soft nod. The beggar muttered his thanks, and Shaurya turned back toward the road, feeling at peace with his actions.

As he crossed the street, his thoughts wandered, as they often did, to Priya. He hadn't spoken to her since lunchtime, and he thought of calling her once he got home. They were planning to visit a temple this weekend, one of Shaurya's favorite spots, nestled in the hills outside the city. He was looking forward to the quietude, the chance to pray and reflect.

Suddenly, a loud horn blared from the distance, pulling Shaurya out of his thoughts. He turned his head just in time to see it: a large truck barreling down the road, its driver swerving wildly as if trying to avoid something in its path.

Time seemed to slow down as the truck veered toward him, far too close, far too fast.

Shaurya's instincts kicked in, and he tried to leap out of the way, but it was too late. The truck hit him with a sickening force, sending him crashing to the pavement. The world spun, the sound of the truck's screeching tires mixing with the shouts of bystanders. The last thing Shaurya saw was the golden glow of the evening sky, now blurred by pain.

In those final moments, as the light began to fade, Shaurya's thoughts drifted not to fear or regret, but to Karna. He remembered the story of how Karna, wounded and dying on the battlefield, had been approached by a Brahmin asking for charity. Even in his final moments, Karna had given, offering up his gold tooth, his last possession, because it was in his nature to give. It was what made him a hero.

Shaurya smiled weakly, knowing that he too had lived his life by his values and principles until the very end. His final act had been one of kindness, one that would echo, however briefly, in the lives he had touched. There was a hint of regret too, for he had planned to propose to Priya coming valentine. But it looked like that it will not be possible now, since… well about to die and all.

And with that last thought, his world went dark.

Shaurya's life, though quiet and ordinary, was filled with the spirit of the hero he so admired. His passing, much like his life, was a small, unnoticed event in the grand scheme of things, but for those who knew him—and for those he had helped—his memory would live on, a testament to the power of selfless giving, even in the face of a world that often took too much.

And so, just like that, Shaurya's story came to an end.