THE PORTAL'S CALL
Arjun had always been a solitary figure in the bustling chaos of Delhi. Orphaned at a young age, he found solace in books and the quiet corners of the city where he could lose himself in study. His days were marked by the rhythm of school and the occasional interaction with a small circle of friends who understood his introspective nature.
Turning eighteen brought a subtle shift in his world—a reminder of time passing, of responsibilities looming, and of dreams yet to be pursued. On that particular afternoon, with the sun casting long shadows over the ancient stone bridge that spanned the Yamuna River, Arjun found himself walking alone, lost in thought.
The bridge, weathered by centuries of history, stood as a silent witness to the ebb and flow of Delhi's life. Its arches framed the distant horizon where skyscrapers mingled with minarets, a juxtaposition of old and new that mirrored Arjun's own internal landscape.
As he ambled along the bridge's edge, his mind wandered between the pages of a physics textbook and the unspoken questions about his future. It was then that movement caught his eye—a figure, barely a silhouette against the sunlit river, standing precariously on the bridge's edge.
Arjun's heart quickened as he recognized the familiar ache of empathy stirring within him. He had seen the signs before—the desperation masked by a façade of indifference, the silent plea for someone, anyone, to notice and care.
Without hesitation, Arjun approached, his steps measured yet purposeful. "Hey," he called out softly, his voice carrying across the gentle breeze that swept through the arches of the bridge.
The figure turned, revealing a face full of confidence and an otherworldly level of calmness. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment—Arjun's filled with a quiet resolve, was perplexed on seeing the other boy's calmness not matching his actions.
And then, as if in slow motion, the figure leaped.
Instinct propelled Arjun forward, his agile frame springing into action. Without pausing to think of the consequences, he vaulted over the stone railing, his fingers grazing the cool surface of the ancient stones as he plummeted towards the river below.
But instead of the anticipated impact of water, a strange sensation gripped Arjun—a pulling, swirling vortex that seemed to swallow him whole. Colors blurred, reality fragmented, and consciousness slipped away as darkness claimed him.
When he awoke, it was not to the cold embrace of river waters, but to a world unlike and just like any he had known. The air hummed with an otherworldly energy, crackling with the faint scent of ozone and unfamiliar flora. Blinking against the disorientation, Arjun struggled to make sense of his surroundings.
A figure materialized before him—a boy, not much older than himself, with eyes that held a depth of knowledge far beyond his years. He extended a hand, strong and steady, offering Arjun a lifeline in this bewildering new realm.