The night sky stretched like a vast ocean above Sushmita, black, infinite, and strangely alive. Each star shimmered like a secret waiting to be told, constellations dancing across the heavens in an ancient rhythm. The wind from the mountains whispered softly through her half-open window as she turned another page of the old, leather-bound book she had borrowed from the city library.
The title read "Mystic Bonds of the Cosmos."She didn't know why she felt drawn to it, but from the moment she opened it, something inside her shifted, as if the book was calling her by name. Her eyes moved across the symbols, patterns of stars and strange diagrams of energy lines connecting galaxies. The words on the pages seemed to shimmer faintly, glowing under the lamplight.
As she kept reading, the world around her began to blur. The ceiling vanished. The floor beneath her dissolved into nothing.Suddenly, she was floating in a deep, endless expanse — the cosmos itself unfolding before her.
She saw Orion striding across the black velvet sky, bow drawn and ready. Hercules towered nearby, limbs stretching for light years, only to be dwarfed by the massive coils of Draco, the dragon constellation. Pegasus soared freely, wings cutting through the silver mist of stars. The Ursa Major glittered like a guardian in the north, while the constellations of Cetus, Eridanus, Ophiuchus, and Hydra formed a colossal ring around her, fourteen radiant clusters surrounding her like sentinels of the heavens.
Sushmita's breath caught in her throat. "What… is this place?" she whispered, her voice echoing in the infinite silence. Then, in the middle of that celestial vastness, a golden light emerged, soft at first, then bright enough to pierce through the dark. Out of that light appeared a figure, seated cross-legged in a meditative posture on what looked like an invisible plane.
He wore an orange robe, glowing faintly, the fabric moving as if stirred by an unseen breeze. His face was calm, serene, and ageless. His forehead bore the sacred tilak of a saint, and his eyes were closed in deep meditation. Sushmita felt her heart race. Her lips trembled. "A… saint?" she murmured, stepping forward, unsure if she was dreaming or had crossed into some spiritual realm.
As she drew closer, she noticed something achingly familiar about the lines of his face — the curve of his lips, the shape of his eyes. Then, as if sensing her presence, the saint slowly opened his eyes. They were the same eyes she had once seen filled with laughter and warmth, her father's eyes.
Sushmita gasped, her knees trembling. "D… Dad?" The saint smiled softly. "My dear daughter," he said, his voice deep yet filled with tenderness, "you have grown so much." Tears welled up in her eyes. She fell to her knees, folding her hands. "How can this be? You… you died years ago. How am I seeing you now?"
He looked at her gently. "Death is not the end, Sushmita. It is merely a doorway. But I have not crossed that doorway yet. I am not dead I was pushed into the future" Her heart pounded. "Displaced? What do you mean?"
"I am in another time, the year 2090," he said. "You are seeing me through a window that opens across ages, not space. I have learned to reach you through the energy of thought, through telepathy and ancient witchcraft I discovered in the future." Her eyes widened, disbelief flickering through her. "The future? How can that be possible?"
He nodded slowly. "It began with an experiment. Your brother Prabhas and I were conducting an archaeological project in the deserts of the United Arab Emirates. We discovered something buried deep beneath the sand , an ancient machine, older than any civilization we knew. We thought it was a relic of architecture, perhaps a forgotten mechanism. But we were wrong." Sushmita listened, transfixed, as her father's voice echoed across the starlit void.
"The machine," he continued, "was a time lever, a fragment of a lost technology once capable of bending reality itself. We submitted it to the Arab architectural department, but a scientist named Dr. Rishi bought it for research. He and his brother Dr. Rishikesh were brilliant men,but their hearts had turned dark." Sushmita frowned. "Rishikesh? The same doctor treating Shashank?"
Her father's eyes darkened. "Yes. The very same. Do not let him near your brother again, Sushmita. He will not heal him — he will destroy him."
Fear gripped her chest. "But… why? What do they want?"
"Power," her father said gravely. "The power to control life and death. They were already infamous in the hospitals for using poor patients as experiments — injecting them with untested drugs, placing them in comas, calling it 'medical advancement.' They were banned once, but their influence and wealth freed them."
Sushmita's tears rolled down her cheeks. "And you… what happened to you?"
He sighed. "They needed human subjects for their next trial — a living test for the machine that could send someone across time. They tricked us. Prabhas and I were told we'd witness the activation. Instead, they locked us inside the chamber. There was a flash — a sound like the tearing of the heavens — and then, when I woke up, everything was different. The world had changed. The calendar said 2090."
Her voice broke. "You were… trapped there?"
He nodded. "Yes, but we survived. Time itself had aged around us, but we remained. Prabhas lost his wife there, and even Rishi… changed. He married a scientist named Akansha. Their children — twins, Akshatha and Aparajita — were born through artificial means. A new world, yet the same corruption, the same hunger for dominance. Even in that futuristic city of glass towers and flying vehicles, humanity had not learned from its past. They had destroyed nature and planted skyscrapers where forests once stood."
Sushmita listened in silence, her heart aching at the image of her father lost in a cold, mechanical future.
"Then how did you speak to me?" she asked softly. "How did you find me?"
Her father smiled faintly. "Through the same book you are reading now. It was written by a saint I met in that era — a man who knew how to weave consciousness into symbols. When you touched it, the book connected your mind to mine. That was my only way to reach you."
Sushmita looked down at the glowing pages in her lap, realization dawning on her. "This book… was meant for me."
"Yes," he said. "I waited years for you to find it. I left the telepathy chip inside its spine. And tonight, when you opened it, our thoughts aligned."
Her lips trembled. "You said Shashank is in danger. He's been having headaches for weeks. Dr. Rishikesh said it's just a nerve issue."
Her father's expression turned grave. "It's not just a nerve. He has an extra neural layer — a mutation triggered by exposure to experimental energy. I sensed it when I reached through time. Rishikesh will try to exploit it for his research. You must protect him, Sushmita."
"I will," she whispered. "But how do I find you, Dad? Can we ever meet again?"
He smiled sadly. "Time is a cruel river. But even rivers meet again at the sea. One day, when the veil between times weakens, we will see each other again. Until then, follow your instincts. The truth lies hidden in your own blood."
Before she could say anything more, the light around him began to fade. The stars blinked out, one by one, until only his eyes remained — kind, knowing, endless.
"Dad, don't go! Please!" she cried.
His voice echoed softly, already dissolving. "Remember, my daughter — never trust Rishikesh…"
And then he was gone.The stars vanished. The sky folded into darkness.
Sushmita gasped, sitting upright in bed, drenched in sweat. Her hands clutched the book tightly against her chest. The morning sun was breaking over the mountains, painting the sky in hues of gold and rose. Birds were singing, but her heart was still pounding with the echo of her father's voice.
She touched her forehead. "A dream?" she whispered. "Or… something real?"
The book lay open beside her, its pages now dull and ordinary — no glow, no symbols. Yet one thing remained — a faint scent of sandalwood, the very fragrance her father used to wear.
Her eyes filled with tears. "Dad…" she whispered.
She tried to go about her day — sweeping, washing, making tea — but every sound seemed distant, muffled. Her mind replayed every word from the night before. Could he really be alive? Could he be somewhere in the future — waiting for her?
Meanwhile, in another time — the year 2090 — Ramakant, still in his saintly robes, sat in meditation in a glass-walled chamber high above the futuristic city. The air shimmered with the hum of drones and neon lights. A knock came at the door.
"Come in," he said.
Prabhas entered, his hair streaked with silver, eyes weary but warm. "Father," he greeted, bowing slightly.
Ramakant smiled. "You came early, my son."
Prabhas sat beside him. "I felt something strange yesterday. A shift in the energy field. Did you—?"
"Yes," Ramakant interrupted softly. "I reached her. Sushmita."
Prabhas's eyes widened. "You… actually spoke to her?"
Ramakant nodded. "Through the book. It worked."
"How?" Prabhas asked, awed.
"She was reading the copy I encoded with a telepathic chip. The moment she touched it, our frequencies aligned. For a few minutes, our minds were one."
Prabhas's expression softened. "She must have been terrified."
"She was brave," Ramakant said with pride. "But she's in danger, Prabhas. Her son — your nephew — is under Dr. Rishikesh's care."
Prabhas frowned. "Rishikesh? But he's one of the best neurologists of our time."
Ramakant shook his head gravely. "He is also the same man who trapped us here."
Silence fell between them. Outside, the skyline glowed like molten silver, and the faint hum of levitating vehicles filled the air.
Prabhas sighed deeply. "So… what now?"
Ramakant looked out at the city. "Now, we prepare. The time lines are crossing again. Sooner or later, Sushmita will find her way to us — and when she does, the world will change forever."
Sushmita, back in her own time, sat by the window that night, watching the stars.Each one seemed to blink knowingly, as if carrying her father's message.
Her fingers traced the edge of the book. "I'll find you, Dad," she whispered. "No matter what it takes."
The wind carried her words into the dark — across time, across worlds — to where a saint in orange robes sat smiling under an alien sky.