Aarav's eyes slowly began to open. A soft beam of sunlight had slipped through the window and was resting on the floor. His eyelids felt heavy, like someone had lovingly lulled him to sleep. But the atmosphere around him… something was different. Very different.
He sat up. There was no T-shirt on his body, just an old blue shirt—the kind he used to wear during college days. Confused, he looked around the room.
"This room... this is... my village room...?"
The walls were slightly damp, and through the window, a neem tree peeked in. On the wall hung a familiar calendar—it read "January 2015."
Aarav slowly walked up to the calendar. His fingers trembled.
"January... 2015...? No way... how is this even possible...?"
His eyes landed on the mirror in front of him. The face staring back shocked him.
"This... this is me? But this is me... when I was 18!"
His hair was a bit longer, his face thinner, and his eyes still carried the innocence of youth. He kept staring at his own reflection, as if he'd just seen a ghost.
"Did I really... travel back in time...?"
Just then, the door creaked open.
"Aarav... beta, you're awake? I brought tea. It won't taste good if it gets cold."
And the sight that greeted him was beyond words.
Standing at the door was Saraswati Devi.
Draped in a white cotton saree, a bindi on her forehead, her long hair braided behind, and a gentle smile on her lips—she looked nothing less than a goddess. Her eyes were big and bright, like they could wash away every sorrow.
"Ma...?"
Aarav's voice broke. He stood there, frozen for a moment, and then suddenly—like all the walls around him had collapsed—he ran into her arms.
"Ma... Ma... Maa...!"
Tears streamed down uncontrollably. He buried his face in her lap, sobbing like a child. His arms shook, his body felt weak, almost lifeless.
Saraswati Devi was startled.
"Oh no no... what happened, beta? Did you see a bad dream? Look how you're crying..."
"Ma... you're alive... you're really alive...!"
"Have you gone mad? Why would I die? I'm not going anywhere—at least not until you start earning and take me to the city with you."
Aarav wept even harder.
"I'm sorry, Ma... I lost you once... I couldn't make it back in time... I wasn't there..."
"What movie have you been watching, huh? Come on, sit down. Drink your tea."
She gently pulled him toward the bed and sat him down, softly caressing his head.
"Look, nothing happened... just a bad dream, that's all. But now get up, okay? It's your first day of college today, remember?"
Aarav stayed there, head resting in her lap. His fingers tightly gripped her hand—as if afraid to lose her again.
In that moment, he wasn't a salesman, or an adult with burdens.
He was just a son — a broken son in his mother's arms.
After a while, when his tears had dried, she gently cupped his face.
"Now tell me, what was that dream? What did you see?"
Aarav gave a faint smile and whispered, "A dream... where you didn't exist."
Saraswati smiled and kissed his forehead.
"Well, I'm right here now, aren't I? Come on, get ready. It's your first day. I'm making parathas for you. Hot, with desi ghee."
A gentle light returned to Aarav's eyes. He took a deep breath.
"Yes, Ma… I have college today..."
---
Aarav had realized by now—
This wasn't a dream.
He had actually gone back in time.
And this time… everything had to change.
He had to save his mother.
He had to save himself.
He had to rewrite the story of his life.
---
He got ready. Picked up the same old bag filled with his books. He glanced at himself in the mirror once more.
Yes—he now recognized that face.
He went downstairs and had breakfast. Ma had made his favorite: besan ka cheela.
After eating, he secretly clicked a photo of her using his old keypad phone.
"What are you doing, huh?"
"Nothing, Ma. Just like that..."
In his heart, he whispered—
"This time, I won't lose you..."
---
First Day of College – A New Beginning
The college environment hadn't changed.
Same crowd, same teachers' voices, same buzz in the canteen, and the usual lighthearted scuffles.
But for Aarav, everything felt new.
He wasn't 18 anymore.
He was a man who had already lived 25 years.
Now, he had to live it all over again—
But this time, with wisdom.
In class, his eyes landed on a girl for the first time—calm, graceful, neatly seated.
Her name was—Priya.
Aarav looked at her once…
And smiled to himself—
"This time, I'll be the one writing the story..."
---
(To be continued...)