Chapter 62: Circle of Support

The morning sun filtered through the window of Rohan's apartment, casting warm light across the room. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Rohan noticed the way the golden rays of sunshine seemed to make the space feel less oppressive. He had spent weeks sitting in the dark, shutting out the world, but now the curtains were open, and the apartment felt… lighter.Rohan sat on the couch, his leg propped up on a cushion, but the emptiness that had once gnawed at him constantly seemed less overpowering. The conversation with his younger brother Rahul had planted a seed of hope within him, though fragile, and over the past few days, Rohan had started to feel the first stirrings of something new—a desire to move forward.His recovery process had been slow, both physically and emotionally. But now, for the first time since his injury, he was beginning to accept that it wasn't something he had to face alone.The sound of a key turning in the lock snapped Rohan out of his thoughts. The door opened, and his parents walked in, carrying bags of groceries. They had insisted on staying with him for a while, despite Rohan's protests. His mother, Sunita, immediately went to the kitchen, unpacking the groceries with efficient care. His father, Amar, gave Rohan a brief nod before sitting down in a chair across from him."How are you feeling today?" his father asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern.Rohan shrugged, unsure how to answer. The truth was, he still didn't feel great—his leg ached constantly, and the emotional weight of his injury still pressed down on him—but he was slowly learning to accept the help that was being offered. That alone was progress."I'm… managing," Rohan said, glancing over at his father. "I think it's getting a little better."Amar nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "That's good. It's a start."They sat in silence for a few moments, the sound of his mother cooking in the kitchen providing a comforting background noise. Despite the quiet, there was a warmth in the room that Rohan hadn't felt in a long time—a sense of being surrounded by people who cared about him, who were willing to help him even when he didn't feel deserving of it.It wasn't long before Ms. Mehra arrived, as she had been doing regularly since Rohan's injury. She entered the apartment with her usual no-nonsense demeanor, though there was a softness in her expression that hadn't been there before. She greeted Rohan's parents warmly before turning her attention to him."Good to see you up and about," she said, her eyes scanning him with a mixture of scrutiny and approval. "How's the leg?""It's healing," Rohan replied, though the truth was that the pain was still there, a constant reminder of the uncertainty of his future. "Slowly."Ms. Mehra nodded, her sharp eyes softened by understanding. "That's how it goes with these kinds of injuries. It takes time, and it takes patience."Rohan had heard those words so many times now that they had almost lost their meaning. But when Ms. Mehra said them, there was something different in the way she spoke—an unwavering belief that he would come through this, that he would find his way back.As the day went on, more people arrived—his closest friends, his former teammates. They gathered in his apartment, filling the space with laughter and conversation, and for the first time in weeks, Rohan didn't feel like an outsider looking in. His friends talked about their lives, about races and training sessions, but they didn't shy away from including him in the conversation. They didn't treat him like he was broken, like he was someone who no longer mattered just because he wasn't on the track.Rohan found himself smiling, even laughing a few times, though the dark cloud of doubt still lingered at the edges of his mind. But being surrounded by the people who cared about him, who had supported him through the ups and downs of his career, made him realize that maybe—just maybe—he wasn't as alone as he had thought.As the evening wore on and his friends began to leave, Ms. Mehra stayed behind. She sat with Rohan and his parents, her sharp eyes assessing him in the way that only she could. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she turned to him, her expression thoughtful."Rohan, I've been thinking a lot about your situation," she began. "And I want you to hear something. I think it might help."Rohan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Ms. Mehra was never one to mince words, and when she said something was important, she meant it."I want you to think about Milkha Singh," Ms. Mehra continued, her voice steady but firm. "You know his story, right?"Rohan nodded. Milkha Singh, the legendary Indian sprinter who had overcome unimaginable odds to become one of the greatest athletes in history. His story was one of perseverance, resilience, and triumph in the face of adversity. But Rohan wasn't sure how that related to his current situation.Ms. Mehra seemed to sense his confusion. "Milkha Singh didn't have an easy life, Rohan. He lost his family during the partition of India, grew up in extreme poverty, and faced setbacks that would have broken most people. But he didn't let those setbacks define him. He didn't give up."She paused, her gaze intense. "Do you know how many times Milkha Singh failed before he succeeded? Do you know how many times he was defeated in races, how many times he had to pick himself up and keep going when everything seemed hopeless?"Rohan remained silent, absorbing her words."He wasn't perfect," Ms. Mehra said, her voice softening. "He made mistakes, and he suffered greatly. But he never gave up on himself. He learned from his failures, he adapted, and he kept fighting. And because of that, he became a legend."Rohan's mind raced as he thought about Milkha Singh's story in a new light. He had always admired the sprinter's achievements, but he had never truly considered the depth of the struggles he had faced to get there. Milkha Singh had overcome unimaginable obstacles—far worse than what Rohan was facing now—and yet he had emerged victorious.Ms. Mehra leaned forward, her eyes locked onto his. "You're going through a tough time, Rohan. There's no denying that. But you have the same spirit, the same determination that Milkha Singh had. This injury, this setback—it doesn't have to define you. It can make you stronger if you let it."The weight of her words hung in the air, and for the first time since his injury, Rohan felt a flicker of something deep within him—a spark of hope, a reminder of the fire that had once driven him to push himself beyond his limits.Ms. Mehra smiled, a rare expression of warmth crossing her face. "You've always been a fighter, Rohan. Don't lose sight of that. You're not finished yet."