A/N: Before I actually begin with my story, I would like to wholeheartedly thank my friend (you know who you are!) for inspiring and motivating me enough into writing this. Thank you for throwing a new light on the character 'Pankaj' and helping me see beyond what was/is being shown on screen. I'm not sure if this is good enough, but I sincerely hope you like it.

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She stood looking at the flames – the flames from the funeral pyre. The others – while they just stood there, all dressed in white, doing nothing to comfort her, he came forward to help. He stood by her side, his hands on her shoulder. 'I'll perform the last rites', he had offered, when the religious heads called for the nearest male kin of the deceased.

It was totally unexpected. Him, of all people? No one could imagine him doing the needful. But the truth was that, he did. Only he did!

…..

Papa was no more. It seemed too unrealistic for words. He was there. He was sitting right in front of them laughing and talking when he held on to his chest and fell to the ground. 'Papaaaa', she screamed and rushed to his side. The others helped carry him to the hospital. They took him pretty fast. They broke the signals and followed no road rules. And yet they failed. They were late. And they lost him.

It came in as a shock for her. Papa was her only solace. Her only hope. He was more than just a dad. He was her life. She knew no one else. She had no one else. She had friends. But they were only friends. He was her only living relative – though not exactly a relative. She was the one whom she considered her father all these years. 24 years of memories was all she had now. She was heartbroken. She sat crying as the others looked on. He best friend stood next to her, unable to do anything that could help.

In the midst of her sorrow, she had a problem that needed to be solved. She didn't have a brother or a cousin and neither did Papa have a brother. Who was to perform the last rites? She was willing to, but the community did not allow that. What was she to do? Where could she go? Whom could she ask? And even if she did find someone to ask, would they be willing?

It was then that he came. She didn't have to ask him, for he offered it himself. He was there when they wrapped the body in a shroud and placed it on a structure made of bamboo sticks and grass carpet. He lifted the pot and led the procession throwing flowers on the way to the crematorium, while the others followed with the body. He finally lit the pyre with the grass torch. She didn't have to ask for anything at all. He did all that was necessary and the others followed without hesitation.

And when it was all over, people started leaving one by one. She was left alone looking very forlorn and lost. Her life had become dark, or so she thought. She was troubled and scared - that was plainly seen on her face and he, felt very sorry for her. 'Really', he thought indignantly. ' One of the others could have stayed with her today!'

Something about the slump of the girl's shoulders as she turned to go, went straight into his heart and he made an impulsive decision. Without giving himself time to really think if he would regret it later, he rushed to her side and grabbed her arm saying, 'Purvi, you are coming home with me now. I don't have a sister and I promise to look after you like one. I don't want you to stay alone'.

For a moment she thought that she had misheard him and she could only stare at him blankly. He gave her a little shake and said, 'You will come home with me, wont you? It's just a small house, at the end of the road. My mom will be glad to have you with us and its better than you having to stay all alone.'

Purvi found her voice at last. 'Thank you Pankaj', she stammered as she walked home with him.

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A/N: Thank you taking your time off to read this story. Do leave behind your reviews so I'll know what you guys think.