Ch3The Weight of Legacy #2
The Vardhan family's responsibilities are mine now, and I will fulfill them completely. But the fire inside me knows-I can never abandon the world I created with my own hands.
I pulled out my phone, my decision already made, and dialed Vyom's number.
After a few rings, his familiar voice answered, steady as ever.
"Yes, boss?"
I spoke firmly, leaving no room for hesitation.
"We are not going back to Mumbai tomorrow. We're going to Vardhanpur. Make all the arrangements."
There was a pause, just silence on the other end. Then, with quiet obedience, Vyom replied,
"As you say, sir."
Without another word, I ended the call, staring into the darkness around me.
Vardhanpur was waiting.
Time skipped to the next morning.
It was 4 a.m., and I was already prepared for my daily rituals. My routine never changed-yoga, exercise, meditation, sword practice, book reading-and finally, a refreshing bath. With everything completed, I stood before the sacred Shiv Mandir of Kashi, where the Maha Aarti was about to begin.
I joined the prayer, letting the chants and the sound of conch shells echo through my soul. Bowing my head, I accepted Mahadev's blessing before quietly leaving the temple.
Soon after, I was on my way to my private airport. Within the hour, I was seated in my private jet, bound for Vardhanpur. Vyom sat across from me, his eyes fixed on his laptop screen, fingers moving swiftly as he worked in silence.
The journey back had begun.
Four hours later, we landed on the soil of Vardhanpur. The moment I stepped out of the plane, it felt as if the very air of Vardhanpur bowed in submission before me.
Without a trace of expression on my face, I began walking towards my convoy. My guards followed closely, and some soldiers of the Vardhanpur royal army joined them for my protection. As I passed, every man lowered his head in respect, greeting me with silent reverence.
Lined up outside were twelve black cars, standing back-to-back like shadows awaiting their master.
I walked straight to the one in the center.
The driver bowed, opened the door, and I slipped inside.
Once the door shut and the final security checks were done, the fleet of cars began to roll forward in unison.
But my thoughts were far from calm.
I knew I would soon have to face the cursed sight of my father's face-something I could hardly tolerate. Rage was already burning inside me, though I forced myself to stay in control.
I turned my gaze to the window.
Vardhanpur-the land whose grandeur never fades. Even today, the government of the country held no power here; only the will of the royal bloodline ruled these lands. And before setting foot in the palace, tradition demanded that I visit the temple of our Kuldevi, Maa Gauri.
I entered the temple, and even there, the common people lowered their heads the moment they saw me. After seeking Maa Gauri's blessing, my journey towards the palace began again.
Soon, from a distance, I could see the towering walls of the Rajgiri Palace. Even after centuries, the royal family of Vardhanpur lived like true monarchs, with the same unmatched splendor as their ancestors.
Moments later, the colossal gates of the Rajgiri fort opened, and the entire convoy drove inside.
The news had already spread like wildfire across Vardhanpur-
their prince had returned.
As my car moved forward, every guard standing outside bowed respectfully. When we reached the palace, all the cars came to a halt.
I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the drama that was about to unfold. The drama, because until now, every Vardhan family meeting had been held at my Mumbai mansion or my grandfather’s Delhi mansion. Today, for the first time, after becoming the head of the family, the meeting was here.
The driver opened the door, and I stepped out, chest out, fearless, with no expression on my face. I saw my grandmother, Rajeshwari Vardhan, approaching with a smiling face and an Aarti plate, flanked by my two aunts, ready to welcome me.
I stepped forward and touched my grandmother’s feet. She placed her hand on my head and said,
“Sada Vijayi Bhavah”
(May you always win)
Then I touched my aunts’ feet. My grandmother applied tilak and performed the aarti.
She is my younger grandmother; my real grandmother had long passed away.
People say she died because of the curse on our family.
This younger grandmother is the wife of my grandfather’s younger brother.
My own grandfather had also passed away a few years ago.
Now, in our family, the elders are my younger grandfather Shrinath Vardhan and this younger grandmother.
As always, my face showed no emotion. I entered the palace, which was fully decorated for my arrival, though I never cared for any of it.
As I started walking toward the meeting room, a familiar voice called from behind:
“Bhai-sa, you’ve arrived??”
It was my cousin Viswraaj, my uncle’s son. I turned around and, for the first time in a while, a small smile appeared on my face.
He rushed forward and hugged me tightly. I hugged him back just as firmly.
“I’ve missed you so much, Bhai-sa,” he said.
“I’ve missed you too, Raaj… When did you come back from London?” I asked.
“Just today, Bhai-sa. As soon as I heard about the family meeting, I came straight here,” he said.
I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Good… and how are you, Raaj?”
“I’m fine, Bhai-sa. And you?” he asked.
“Same as always…” I replied.
“Where’s Dev?” I asked.
No sooner had I asked than Devaditya, my younger cousin, came running from the door. We call him Dev. He hugged me tightly and said,
“Bhai-sa, you called, so we came.”
I hugged him back and asked, “How are you?”
“I’m good as always, Bhai-sa, all thanks to your blessings,” he replied.
Among the three of us cousins, Dev is the youngest. Though they are my cousins, I feel both of them are like my younger brothers. Viswraaj is six months younger than me, and Dev is two years younger.
We started toward the meeting room, with me in front and my two brothers close behind.
As the meeting room door opened, everyone present stood out of respect even the elders because no one can oppose the head of the Vardhan family.
I entered with the same expressionless face, took the head seat, and signaled everyone to start the meeting.
My father, Pratap Raj, stood like a rock, not even looking at me, and spoke. His face alone was unbearable; seeing him, I clenched my fists in anger, and my eyes darkened.
I didn’t want to speak to him.
He said
Now that I was grown old day by day, I wanted Rudraksh’s coronation to happen swiftly, and I wanted him to take up my responsibilities fully.
I ground my teeth, closing my eyes briefly to calm the fire inside me. The room grew tense; whispers started among the people present.
In my mind:
This man knows I hate Vardhanpur, that I never wanted to be king here and yet, he dared to disturb me.
My younger grandfather, Shrinath Vardhan, spoke in a firm voice,
“Pratap, is this the right time for Rudraksh’s coronation? He is only twenty-eight, and we must also arrange his marriage soon.”
Pratap Raj said,
“Yes, Kaka-sa, I know, which is why I’m saying once Rudraksh becomes king, he must have a queen for the Maha Yagya. I have already found a suitable girl.”
That was the last straw. I slammed my fist on the glass table so hard it shattered. My hand bled profusely.
Everyone froze in fear. My two younger cousins moved closer, but I signaled them to stop. I glared at Pratap Raj and said,
“First, who gave you the right to decide my life? Huh?”
Pratap Raj roared,
“Rudraksh, mind your words I am your father.”
I let out a sharp, cutting laugh.
“Oh, so now you remember you’re my father? Where were you when I lost my mother because of you?”
He went silent and avoided my gaze.
I said,
“So, what now? Why are the eyes of Vardhanpur’s king lowered? No words now? Let everyone here remember I am not going be the king here, and I will not marry by your will. Not at all.”
I turned to leave in anger, but a servant accidentally bumped into me, spilling a hot coffee mug in his hands. Enraged, I snatched the mug and threw it back into his hands. His scream echoed throughout the palace. I stormed toward my room, leaving chaos in my wake.
Yet, amidst all this tranquility, Rudraksh’s mind was far from peaceful.
Suddenly, a soft voice called from behind him, breaking his reverie:
“Rudra Beta…”
The gentle call from his younger grandmother broke his focus, and he immediately turned, walking toward her with folded hands.
“Pranam, Dadi-sa. Why did you trouble yourself to come here? You could have just called me,” he said.
She placed her hand on his head and said,
“I have something very important to discuss with you, beta.”
Rudraksh frowned slightly and said,
“Dadi-sa, please… not about the morning meeting.”
Dadi-sa’s voice softened but carried weight:
“I’ve come to speak about your mother, Rudra…”
The mere mention of his mother’s name shocked Rudraksh. Ever since she had passed away, no one had dared to speak her name in his presence. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt a strange mix of pain and nostalgia stir within him.
Rudraksh:
“My… my mother?”
Dadi-sa took a deep breath before answering,
“Yes, about your mother Agnishikha Vardhan, the queen of Vardhanpur.”
Rudraksh’s throat tightened, his lips pressed together as he struggled to hold back the storm of emotions. His mouth went dry, and he swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in his throat.
Dadi-sa:
“Rudra, your mother loved you more than anything in this world. After your birth, her life felt complete filled with happiness, as though spring itself had bloomed in her heart. Her greatest dream was to see you one day as the King of Vardhanpur. But fate… fate was cruel.
The curse of our family devoured her happiness, just as it has for generations. You were barely five years old when the shadow of death snatched her away from you.”