Just then, her father entered the room, listening quietly to their conversation. After a heavy sigh, he spoke sadly,
"No, you can't go outside during the day. Your skin… it's different. You can only go out at night. The harsh sunlight will harm your body. Just think about today — you couldn't even stand for a second in the sun. You have to understand that. But don't worry, I'm working on finding an alternative."
Kruthi felt a wave of disappointment wash over her. She slowly sat on her bed and said softly,
"Okay, fine. If I can only go outside at night, then I'll play outside at night… please, Paa."
That night, under the soft glow of the moon, Kruthi stepped outside for the first time. The cool night air brushed against her skin, and for a moment, she felt free—like the whole world was hers. The stars twinkled above, and the shadows seemed less frightening than the harsh sunlight she was forbidden to face.
As she wandered quietly through the garden, her father watched from the window, a mix of hope and worry in his eyes. He was determined to find a way to protect her — to help her live a normal life, whatever it took.
Inside, he began researching ancient texts and modern science, searching for a solution that could shield Kruthi from the sun's deadly rays. He wouldn't let his daughter be trapped forever.
Inside, her father spent hours buried in old books and modern research, looking for a way to protect Kruthi from the sun's harmful rays. He refused to believe she'd be stuck inside forever. There had to be a way — and he would find it.
Meanwhile, Kruthi started going outside at night. At first, it felt strange. The world was quiet, the trees looked like shadows, and the wind had a different kind of chill. But she learned to enjoy it. She danced under the moonlight, chased fireflies, and even smiled again.
But then, one night… something happened. Something that changed everything.
She was playing near the edge of the courtyard when she heard it — a low growl from the trees. At first, she thought it was just the wind. But then she saw glowing eyes in the dark. Not one pair. Several.
Her heart froze. Whatever they were, they weren't human. And they were watching her.
She backed away slowly, her feet shaking, then turned and ran as fast as she could. Her father heard her screams and rushed out, grabbing her and slamming the door behind them.
After that night, Kruthi refused to go outside again — even in the dark. She would stand at the window sometimes, staring out at the stars, but her hands would tremble, and she'd step away.
The night wasn't safe anymore either.
And now, the walls of the house felt smaller than ever.
_____________________________________
Time passed quietly in the Gayakvad house.
Amrutha and Vinay had two daughters — twins, Kirti and Kruthi.
They were born at the same time, shared the same face, the same smile, and the same eyes — but destiny had drawn a deep line between them.
Kirti was healthy, full of life, and loved by everyone.
Kruthi, though, was born different. Her skin carried a faint blue tone, and the family priest whispered a fearful word when he saw her ,
"Vishkanya."
A girl born with poison in her body.
From that day, everything changed.
Both daughters were loved, but Kruthi's life became quiet and lonely. She couldn't go out, couldn't touch anyone, and couldn't live like her twin sister. Her room became her world. The window was her sky.
Amrutha and Vinay loved both their girls deeply. They always made sure Kruthi got everything she needed, but they were afraid to show their love through touch. Even a small hug could be dangerous. So they spoke through soft smiles, warm food left by her door, and gentle words whispered from a distance.
Kirti visited Kruthi every evening. She talked about school, friends, and festivals — the world that Kruthi could only imagine. Kruthi loved hearing her twin's stories. When Kirti laughed, it felt like sunlight entering a dark room.
But deep inside, Kruthi always felt the difference.
They looked the same — yet Kirti's life was full of color, while hers was locked behind walls.
Books became Kruthi's only friends. She read every story she could find — about courage, hope, and freedom. Slowly, she began writing her own stories. Her words carried the feelings she couldn't say aloud — her pain, her dreams, her love for life.
She chose to hide her real name and wrote under a secret name —
"Savinaya."
Her first story was published quietly. No one knew who wrote it. But readers loved it instantly. They said Savinaya's words touched hearts, healed pain, and felt real.
Soon, Savinaya became a famous name.
Her books sold everywhere. People called her
"the writer who understands the soul."
Even Kirti, not knowing the truth, read those stories and told Kruthi,
"You know, Kruthi… sometimes I feel like this writer knows our hearts."
Kruthi smiled softly and said,
"Maybe she does."
Every night, Kruthi sat by the window, looking at the stars.
She whispered,
"One day, the world will know who I really am. Not as a Vishkanya… but as someone who loved, who dreamed, who lived."
And far away, her sister Kirti was unknowingly reading her words — the words written by her own twin.