Chapter-3 What Should I Do Now Then Dude !

Dhruv's mind raced with questions as he absorbed the magical display and the man's cryptic answers. The arrows, floating before him in their surreal elegance, seemed to be a bridge between his past struggles and the enigmatic journey ahead. The realization that these symbols of pain could not be removed, only acknowledged, added a layer of depth to his understanding of the place he had found himself in.....

Dhruv's confusion deepened as he tried to wrap his mind around the man's words and the strange display of arrows. His brow furrowed, his thoughts racing. Sensing the turmoil within Dhruv, the man in the long coat gave a gentle smile, his eyes showing a flicker of understanding.

Noticing Dhruv's lost expression, the man said softly, "You're confused, aren't you?"

Dhruv nodded slowly, feeling the weight of the mystery surrounding him. "I don't understand any of this. What's happening? Why are you showing me these arrows? And why do they feel so… real?"

The man's tone grew calm, almost reassuring. "It's natural to be confused, Dhruv. You've been through much, and the answers you seek won't come all at once. Sometimes, understanding takes time—just like healing. But know this: everything you've experienced, all the battles and challenges, they've left marks on you. Marks that may not be visible to the eye, but they shape who you are, nonetheless."

He gestured toward the floating arrows, still hovering around Dhruv's back like ghostly reminders. "These arrows represent those marks—your burdens, your pain, your unresolved struggles. They can't be removed because they are part of what makes you... you."

Dhruv's confusion didn't completely fade, but there was something in the man's voice that felt strangely comforting, as if the uncertainty he was feeling was also part of his path.

The man's voice took on a more contemplative tone, his eyes piercing through Dhruv's confusion.

"Do you know, you mortals always care about what will happen after your death?" the man began, his words flowing like a challenge. "You wonder who will cry for you at your grave, who will stay there the longest, mourning your absence. But let me ask you a question."

He leaned forward, his gaze never wavering. "Even for a brief moment, did you mortals ever ask yourselves, did you make someone's life better just by being present? Did you ever help someone in their lowest moment? Did you...?"

The man's words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, pressing on Dhruv's thoughts. Dhruv felt his mind racing. The questions stirred something deep within him, causing him to reflect on moments he hadn't thought about in years. He began to question himself—had he ever truly made someone's life better? Had his presence alone mattered to anyone? Or had he merely been another figure passing through the lives of others, without leaving a lasting mark?

Dhruv's breath caught as the weight of those questions settled in his chest. The man's eyes softened slightly, sensing Dhruv's inner turmoil, but he said nothing more. This was Dhruv's moment of realization, of self-reflection. And it was clear that the answer, whatever it may be, was his to discover.

The man watched Dhruv's silent reflection, then sighed, as if disappointed by what Dhruv hadn't yet understood.

"Do you know what those arrows are, Dhruv?" he asked, gesturing toward Dhruv's back with a flick of his wrist. For a moment, a shimmer of magic flickered around the man's hand, and suddenly, Dhruv could see them—sharp, glimmering arrows, piercing through his own back, each one as real as the pain now shooting through his consciousness.

Dhruv gasped, instinctively reaching for them, but his hands passed through the arrows, as though they were not of this world. He looked up at the man, eyes wide with both shock and confusion.

The man smiled sadly. "These are the arrows of regret," he explained, his voice calm but filled with an eerie weight. "They are not physical, no. You can't touch them. But you can feel them, can't you? These arrows are forged from the moments you failed to act, the chances you didn't take, and the words you left unsaid."

Dhruv's heart pounded in his chest as the man's words sank in.

"You mortals often think that regret is something you can live with. But what you don't realize," the man continued, his tone deepening, "is that it follows you, piercing deeper and deeper until it consumes you, whether in life or death. Regret cannot be removed, not by anyone but yourself. And the more you ignore it, the heavier it becomes, weighing down your soul."

Dhruv's mind raced. His life flashed before him—decisions he didn't make, moments he let slip, times when he chose silence over action. All the regrets that he had buried, now exposed, felt heavier than ever.

The man's eyes locked onto Dhruv's, as though searching for the realization that had yet to fully form. "That's why you see those arrows now, Dhruv. It's not about the battlefield or the village. It's about the battles within yourself—the choices you made, or failed to make. Those arrows... they are the reminders of everything you wished you could change but never did."

Dhruv, overwhelmed by the sudden truth, found himself questioning once more: had his regrets truly held him back, and could he find a way to heal from the wounds they had left?

The man stood tall, his gaze steady as he watched Dhruv struggle to process what he had just said. The arrows, now visible only to Dhruv, seemed to weigh more heavily with every passing second. Each breath felt harder to take, as though the arrows were pulling him down.

"You see, Dhruv," the man continued, his voice soft yet firm, "with these arrows in your back, you cannot enter heaven."

Dhruv's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean? I can't enter heaven? Is... is that why I'm here? Because of these arrows?"

The man nodded slowly, his expression filled with a mixture of pity and understanding. "You are bound by them. Regret is a powerful force, one that lingers even after death. It holds you back from true peace, preventing you from moving forward."

Dhruv felt a surge of panic rise in his chest. "But... how do I get rid of them? How do I fix this?"

The man's eyes met Dhruv's, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something deeper—something ancient and wise—behind his gaze. "It's not as simple as just pulling them out, Dhruv. These arrows are not wounds that can be healed by time alone. They are the scars of your soul, and until you face what caused them, they will remain."

Dhruv took a step forward, desperate for an answer. "But how? How do I face them? I don't even know where to start."

The man let out a soft sigh, as though this conversation was one he had had many times before. "You must confront your regrets, Dhruv. Acknowledge them. Seek forgiveness where it is needed, but more importantly, forgive yourself. Only then can the arrows be removed. Only then will you be free to move beyond this place."

Dhruv looked down, his mind racing with memories of his life—moments of hesitation, fear, and missed opportunities. "But... what if I can't fix everything? What if it's too late?"

The man placed a hand on Dhruv's shoulder, his grip surprisingly warm and reassuring. "It's never too late. Redemption isn't about undoing the past—it's about understanding it and choosing to be better moving forward. That's the path to freedom."

Dhruv stared at the man, still confused but beginning to grasp the enormity of the task before him. "So... if I confront my regrets, I can remove these arrows?"

The man nodded once more. "Yes, but it won't be easy. The road ahead is filled with challenges, but it is the only way. You have the power to free yourself, Dhruv. The question is: are you willing to face your past?"

Dhruv stood in silence, the weight of the man's words sinking in. This was his chance to find peace, but the journey seemed daunting. Could he truly face the regrets that had followed him even into death?

He looked up at the man, determination slowly building within him. "I'll do it. I'll face them."

The man smiled faintly, his eyes gleaming with approval. "Then your journey begins now."

The man gazed at Dhruv, his eyes now holding a seriousness that hadn't been there before. His voice was steady as he began to explain the rules.

"There are four rules you must follow if you wish to accept this journey, Dhruv," the man said, his tone both grave and oddly lighthearted.

Dhruv listened intently, his heart pounding in anticipation.

"First," the man began, holding up a finger, "you will only have 90 days to make a happy ending to your life. That's all the time I can give you. If you live beyond those 90 days..." He paused, casting a glance up at the sky, then chuckled softly. "Well, let's just say I'd lose my job. Can't have that, now can we?"

Dhruv blinked in confusion. "Your job? What do you mean?"

The man waved the question away, as if it wasn't important. "Details, details. Just know, 90 days is all you've got. No extensions, no exceptions."

He then raised a second finger. "Second rule: you cannot, under any circumstances, tell anyone about your death. If you do, the whole thing unravels, and your second chance will be for nothing. People aren't supposed to know when or how they're going to die—it messes with the natural order."

Dhruv frowned, a knot forming in his stomach. "But... what if they ask? What do I say?"

The man shrugged. "You're creative, you'll figure it out. Just don't mention anything about your death or this little arrangement."

He then held up a third finger. "Third rule: an assistant of death will be keeping an eye on you the entire time. Think of them as... a guide. Or a babysitter, depending on how you look at it. They'll be watching to make sure you don't break the rules or do anything... regrettable."

Dhruv's eyes widened slightly. "A babysitter? Who is it?"

The man smiled mysteriously. "You'll meet them soon enough. Let's just say they're quite skilled at their job."

Finally, the man raised a fourth finger, his tone growing softer but more deliberate. "Fourth and final rule: for these 90 days, you will be immortal. Nothing can harm you—no blade, no disease, no accident. You'll walk through the world as a ghost among the living, unable to be hurt. And if, at any point, you feel you've done everything you needed to, you can return here. You won't have to wait for the 90 days to be over."

Dhruv stood there, taking it all in. The idea of being immortal for 90 days was both comforting and unsettling. But the conditions... not telling anyone, being watched, having a strict time limit... it was a lot to process.

The man gave him a moment, watching Dhruv's expression carefully. Then, with a tilt of his head, he added, "If you can accept all these terms, you can go. The choice is yours."

Dhruv hesitated, glancing back at the beautiful, serene landscape of Vaikuntha. The peaceful ocean in the distance, the elegant surroundings—it felt like an eternal paradise. But something within him stirred, a desire to do more, to set things right, to live the way he hadn't before.

He looked back at the man. "And if I accept?"

The man smiled warmly, yet cryptically. "Then your second chance begins now."

The man, still wearing that cryptic smile, casually waved his hand through the air. In an instant, the very fabric of reality rippled before Dhruv's eyes, shimmering like water disturbed by a stone. Slowly, a swirling portal began to form, glowing with an ethereal light. The edges of the portal flickered, like flames licking the air, casting an otherworldly glow over the serene landscape of Vaikuntha.

Dhruv stared at the portal, mesmerized. It seemed to pulse with a strange energy, drawing him closer. The calm silence of the heavenly realm was now broken by the soft hum emanating from the portal, as if it was calling out to him.

The man stepped back, gesturing toward the portal with a flourish. "There it is, Dhruv. Your way back to the world of the living. Step through, and your 90 days begin."

Dhruv took a hesitant step forward, his eyes still fixed on the swirling light. He turned back toward the man, feeling the weight of the decision he was about to make. "What will happen once I go through?"

The man's smile never wavered. "You'll find out soon enough. But remember the rules. And remember... this is your second chance. Don't waste it."

With that, Dhruv nodded, determination filling his chest. He stepped closer to the portal, feeling its strange warmth against his skin. Taking a deep breath, he placed one foot inside, and the world around him blurred, shifting as he passed through the shimmering gateway.

As Dhruv stood at the edge of the portal, his curiosity got the better of him. He turned to the man one last time, his brow furrowed in thought. "Who are you exactly?" he asked, the question hanging in the air like a heavy weight.

The man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he smiled—an enigmatic, knowing smile that made Dhruv even more curious. "Answering who I am... is that more important to you than your life?"

Dhruv blinked, momentarily caught off guard. The man's words stirred something inside him, making him question what truly mattered in this strange, otherworldly moment.

The man continued, waving off the question as if it were a trivial matter. "Just pass through the portal. You'll meet Yama, an old buddy of mine. He'll help guide you from there. Oh, and take this." The man reached into the pocket of his long coat and pulled out a small, pristine white feather, which he handed to Dhruv.

Dhruv took it, the feather light as air in his hand, glowing faintly. "A... feather?"

The man's smile widened as he gestured toward the portal. "Yes, a feather. Show it to Yama, and he'll understand everything."

Still filled with questions but sensing that this wasn't the time for answers, Dhruv gave a final nod and, clutching the feather tightly, stepped through the swirling portal. As the light enveloped him, the man's cryptic smile was the last thing Dhruv saw before the portal sealed behind him, leaving Vaikuntha's quiet beauty far behind.

As the portal sealed shut, the man stood there, gazing at the spot where Dhruv had just disappeared. A faint chuckle escaped his lips, and he crossed his arms, his eyes glinting with intrigue.

"I think I can see something interesting by seeing this kid," he mused to himself, his voice barely a whisper in the silence of Vaikuntha. The ocean's distant waves were the only response, but the man's smile lingered, as though he knew more than he let on.

Turning away from the empty space, he adjusted his long coat and walked off, his steps echoing in the vast, serene emptiness, disappearing as mysteriously as he had appeared.

- To Be Continued