Bigger Picture

Parm and Karan walked into the room, Parm gently took the elderly woman's hand and said, "I'm sorry, Mother. I wasn't there for you." The old woman, unable to speak due to her age and oxygen support, had tears in her eyes. Parm hugged her tenderly. Karan stood by, watching. Parm then introduced Karan, "Mother, this is Karan, Jaga's son." The woman signaled Parm to bring Karan closer. As he did, she gently placed her hands on Karan's head. Though Karan didn't know her, a young woman from the back said, "Brother, we should talk in the other room. Let Mother rest. Karan can stay with her."

Parm responded firmly, "No, he will come with us. He should know about the bigger picture." The young woman conceded, "Alright, your choice, brother." They moved to the other room and settled on the sofa. Sister asked with a sharp edge, "So, Diljeet hit you back?"

Anger flashed in both Parm and Karan's eyes. Parm replied, "Sister, I will kill him. He destroyed our family."

She nodded, "I knew he would strike back. He's a man of morals, but when it comes to betrayal, he never forgets. He did what he had to, Parm."

Karan, seething, was about to strike her, but Parm restrained him. She smirked, "Control him, Parm. He's just like his father. He'll suffer the same fate if he stays this way."

Parm shot back, "Sister, Jaga was your brother too. I don't need your help, just your connections. I've been out of this for 20 years, but you're still in. Please, sister, this is the last time I'm asking you for help."

She sighed, "Alright, I'll give you my connections. But be aware, Labu is coming with others to hunt you down. You know him. Be careful, Parm."

Parm's eyes darkened, "I will kill that fucker, sister." But remember, brother, don't tell Mother about all this. I think she already knows, but just don't confirm it by saying anything in front of her. Your family is in that room." She gestured toward the door.

At this, Karan rushed to the room, panic etched on his face. The sister continued, "Brother, you can't stay here for long until I make arrangements, but your family can stay as long as they need."

Parm entered the room to see Karan hugging Grandma tightly as she wept. Parm's son and his wife joined them, clinging to each other with tear-streaked faces. Suddenly, Grandma stood up and, with tears streaming down her face, slapped Parm hard, four times.

"What have you done?" she cried, her voice breaking. "I knew you did something terrible in those 15 years. I already lost one son, and now I might lose another and my grandson. Why did you involve Karan in this?"

Karan stepped forward, defiance in his eyes. "Grandma, I chose to get involved. I won't rest until I kill my parents' murderers."

Grandma looked at him, her eyes filled with sorrow. "You don't have to do this, Karan."

As if on cue, the TV in the corner of the room blared a news report. The anchor's voice was tense, "This is the most gruesome mass murder in the history of Punjab and the world. We have Senior Inspector Kulwinder Dhillon with us. Let's hear what he has to say."

The anchor asked, "Sir, are you close to catching the killer?"

Kulwinder Dhillon replied grimly, "There were killers, not just one. One young man, age 19, will receive no mercy because he was equally involved in these heinous killings."

Grandma, her hands shaking, quickly turned off the TV. The room plunged into silence, the weight of their reality pressing down on them. Squamish, Canada.

Diljeet, after suffering a heart attack, decided it was finally time to reveal his past to his son, Arjun. As they sat together, the gravity of Diljeet's words began to sink in.

"Father, what happened after you left those men with mother?" Arjun asked, shocked by the revelations so far.

Diljeet took a deep breath and continued his story.

1983.

"Here you are, Diljeet!" a man exclaimed, hugging Diljeet as he entered a grand house. "Come inside, everyone is waiting for you."

The house, located in a small village in Pakistan, was bustling. "Did you face any problems crossing the India-Pakistan border?" the man asked.

"Nah, Kuljeet, we know everyone at the border, especially me," Diljeet replied with a smirk.

Kuljeet laughed. "Just a formality, brother." They both entered the house where nearly fifty men were gathered. Everyone greeted Diljeet warmly, but his eyes searched the room.

"Where is Labu?" Diljeet asked.

"He's still in India, in UP state," Kuljeet replied. "He's retrieving our truck that was captured by local gangs."

Diljeet's expression darkened with anger. "He's risking his life for one truck? That motherfucker!"

"It's not about the truck, Diljeet," a voice interjected from the crowd. It was Anant. "It's about pride. Now, sit down. You need to prepare. We're going to Afghanistan to bring back a hundred trucks of weapons. Punjab is about to ignite, and they'll need arms. We'll be the ones to supply them."

Diljeet nodded, understanding the weight of their mission. The room was thick with tension and anticipation. They knew the journey ahead was fraught with danger, but their cause demanded it. Afghanistan awaited, and with it, the fate of many hinged on their success.