He returned home.
As he stepped inside, his eyes fell on Akshatha.
She was sitting near the corner, carefully tending to a vessel placed over a small flame. Inside, dry straw was boiling, steam rising slowly into the air. A few more vessels were kept nearby, neatly arranged.
For a moment, he just stood there, watching.
Then he remembered—
A few days ago, she had said she wanted to try growing mushrooms in their small room.
At that time, he hadn't paid much attention. It had sounded like a small, childish experiment.
But now, seeing her so focused… so careful…
He realized it wasn't just a passing idea for her.
Even in this condition, while she was still recovering,
she was trying to do something on her own.
Something small… but meaningful.
He felt something shift inside him.
In his previous life, he had overlooked many such moments—
his children's efforts, their ideas, their quiet attempts to grow.
The boiled straw now had to cool down completely.
Only after that could the mushroom seeds be mixed properly and packed.
It would take some time.
Seeing this, her father said gently,
"First, go and eat something."
He looked at the vessels and then back at her.
"By the time you finish lunch, this will cool down. Then you can add the seeds."
Akshatha hesitated for a moment, still focused on her work…
but then nodded.
It was decided—
After lunch, the whole family would sit together and complete the work.
After lunch, the whole family gathered together to continue the work.
The cooled straw was mixed carefully with the mushroom seeds.
Each of them took part—slowly filling the mixture into plastic bags.
Akshatha guided the process, while her mother pressed the mixture neatly, and Manu held the bags steady.
Once filled, small holes were made in each bag, just the way it was needed for proper growth.
They worked patiently, one bag after another.
When everything was done, they carried the prepared bags to the storeroom and arranged them carefully in a corner.
That evening, Akshatha went out cycling with Manu.
They had only one cycle, so she rode while Manu stayed close behind her the entire time—watching carefully, ready to help if needed.
She was still recovering, so he didn't let her go too far or too fast.
"Slow… don't rush," he kept saying, almost like a little guardian.
After some time, they returned home.
To pass the time, they decided to play chess.
Manu, like any kid, had his own "special" way of playing.
If he knew he was going to lose, he wouldn't accept it so easily.
Instead, he would casually pull the board just a little—
enough to mess up all the pieces.
"That's not fair!" Akshatha would protest.
But Manu would just grin, pretending like it happened by mistake.
The first game, he played seriously against their mother—and won fairly.
He was too proud of that victory to spoil it with his tricks.
But in the second game, when he started losing to Akshatha…
His fingers slowly moved toward the edge of the board.
Akshatha noticed immediately.
"Manu…" she warned, narrowing her eyes.
He froze for a second… then gave an innocent look.
But the next moment—
The board shifted slightly.
Pieces scattered.
And Manu burst into laughter.
The room filled with light, playful noise—
a small, simple happiness that had been missing for a long time.
Mr. Nagaraju was running a hotel business.
When he first started, it was very small.
But slowly, with hard work, it began to grow and stabilize.
Then, one by one, his two brothers came to him.
Without hesitation, he took loans and helped them settle—
set up their work, supported them, and carried their responsibilities as his own.
At that time, he believed he was doing the right thing.
But now, when he looked back…
he could only think one thing—
"I was a fool."
Not because he helped—
but because he helped without limits, without thinking about his own family.
Now, as he thought about investing in films, a new concern rose in his mind.
If his name appeared as a producer…
what if those same people came back again?
The ones who had drained him once before.
He knew how it would start—
requests, emotional pressure, expectations.
And slowly, everything he built could be pulled away again.
So now… he had to make a decision.
A difficult one.
But a necessary one.
For his family.
Because his family relationships were already fragile—
unbalanced, filled with past burdens and unspoken tensions.
If he wanted to protect his future,
he needed to draw clear boundaries.
And for that… he had to think ahead.
He would secure what was rightfully his—
his share of inheritance from his parents.
And his wife would also claim what belonged to her—
her father's share, and her mother's side as well.
Not out of greed.
But out of responsibility.
Because this time—
he would not let his children stand empty-handed
while he spent everything for others.
The next day, Nagaraju went to his elder brother's house.
He had already informed both his brothers that he wanted to talk. So his elder brother had called everyone there.
Nagaraju and his younger brother Jayaram arrived with their families.
Their mother was staying with the elder brother. She wasn't happy about it—but Nagaraju had insisted earlier.
"You have three sons and a daughter," he had told her calmly.
"Everyone should take responsibility."
She didn't like staying there.
Deep down, she knew why.
Her youngest son was selfish—his world revolved only around his wife and children. There was no space for his mother in it.
Her elder son… was different. Dominating. Strict. Hard to deal with.
And his wife was not someone she could control either—she was sharp, calculating in her own way.
That house didn't give her comfort. It made her uneasy.
Only Nagaraju's house had been manageable for her.
Not because it was easy—
but because his family tolerated her.
They ignored her small complaints, her constant calculations, her habit of pointing out every little thing.
Still… there was fear in her mind.
Her elder son had a strong temper.
And when he drank, he could even become violent.
That fear kept her quiet.
But at the same time…
She wasn't entirely innocent either.
When Nagaraju's wife had undergone surgery and had her uterus removed due to infection, she needed rest and care.
But instead of supporting her, the mother had continued to order her around—
treating her like nothing had happened.
Nagaraju had seen everything.
He had remained silent then… but not unaware.
So he made a decision.
For some time, his mother would stay with the elder brother.
It had already been three months since the surgery.
The mother thought she could now return to Nagaraju's house.
But then Akshatha's accident happened.
She rushed there, genuinely worried.
She wanted to stay and take care of her granddaughter.
But this time, Nagaraju refused.
"Not now," he said firmly.
"Let her recover first. Then you can come."
It may have sounded harsh—
but he knew the truth.
Right now, his wife and daughter needed peace, proper food, and rest.
If his mother came back,
the constant complaints, the small calculations, the tension—
all of it would return.
And that would only slow their recovery.
This time, he was not making decisions out of emotion.
He was thinking clearly.
Protecting his family—
even if it meant saying no.