I only act vaillain

Chapter 4: A New World Unveiled

Atharva stood in the center of his now-cleaned room, feeling a sense of accomplishment. The once chaotic and filthy space was now spotless, with every surface gleaming and the air free of the stifling stench that had suffocated him earlier. The cluttered utensils were neatly stacked, the floor swept and mopped, and the bed made with fresh sheets he found buried under piles of clothes.

"This feels better," Atharva said, wiping sweat from his brow. Cleaning the house had been oddly therapeutic, giving him time to process the shock of his new reality.

Still, questions nagged at his mind. What was this world he found himself in? Why was it called Bharat and not India? And how had he ended up here, in this alternate reality, in a different body?

He decided it was time to venture outside and explore. Perhaps the streets would offer some clues about this unfamiliar version of his world.

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As Atharva stepped out onto the bustling streets, he was immediately struck by how different everything looked. The layout of the city felt familiar yet alien, as though Mumbai had been reimagined. Towering skyscrapers dominated the skyline, their sleek designs rivaling the most advanced structures he had seen in his past life.

The streets were cleaner, the air fresher, and a palpable sense of unity hung in the atmosphere. Unlike the chaotic hustle of the Mumbai he knew, this city seemed to thrive on a well-structured balance of modernity and tradition.

Atharva walked aimlessly, taking in the sights. His eyes caught a massive statue in the center of a sprawling roundabout. It was Bhagat Singh, depicted in a heroic pose astride a gallant horse, his arm raised in a gesture of defiance and hope.

Atharva stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding. Goosebumps prickled his skin as he stared at the statue. The sheer reverence and grandeur of it left him speechless.

"In my world…" he murmured, his voice barely audible, "they never honored him like this."

He remembered the India of his past life, where freedom fighters like Bhagat Singh, Chandrashekhar Azad, and Subhash Chandra Bose were often overshadowed by the narrative of nonviolence. Apart from a few scattered mentions in textbooks or fleeting references in movies, they had not been given the recognition they truly deserved.

But here, in this world, it was different.

Atharva noticed the plaques beneath the statue, engraved with words of respect and gratitude. Passersby paused briefly to bow their heads in reverence before continuing their journey. The sight filled him with an overwhelming sense of pride and a tinge of sadness for the world he had left behind.

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Curious, Atharva continued walking, his eyes absorbing the stark contrasts between this world and his own. The streets bore names he didn't recognize—Azad Marg, Bose Avenue, and Shaheed Bhagat Singh Expressway. Yet the layout reminded him of the Mumbai he once knew.

He ventured into an area he assumed was a marketplace. Instead of the chaotic clusters of vendors and hawkers he remembered, this market was a harmonious blend of technology and culture. Digital stalls displayed wares on holographic screens, while shopkeepers greeted customers with traditional warmth.

Atharva overheard a conversation between two men discussing the recent advancements in solar energy farms near Ravi City, a name he didn't recognize. He made a mental note to check the map later.

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After walking for hours, Atharva stumbled upon a park near the coast. A large map stood at the entrance, detailing the regions of Bharat. He approached it hesitantly, unsure of what he would find.

The map made his jaw drop.

Gone were the borders that once divided his homeland into separate nations. There were no neighboring countries like Pakistan, Bangladesh, or Nepal. Instead, the map showed one vast, undivided landmass labeled Akhand Bharat.

Atharva's fingers traced the borders, his hand trembling. "This… this is unbelievable," he muttered. The unity of this world's Bharat sent a chill down his spine.

The map highlighted new cities and regions he had never heard of: Indraprastha (a futuristic capital city combining ancient design with cutting-edge technology), Durganagar (a fortress city known for its military strength), and Saraswati Valley (a hub of cultural preservation and innovation).

As Atharva stood there, he reflected on what this unity meant. In his past life, the dream of an undivided Bharat had been just that—a dream. Political divisions, colonial history, and cultural conflicts had fractured the subcontinent.

But here, it was a reality.

"This is what they fought for," Atharva realized, his voice filled with awe. "This is why they sacrificed everything."

Bhagat Singh, Subhash Chandra Bose, Chandrashekhar Azad—they had envisioned a united, independent Bharat. And in this world, their dreams had come true.

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Atharva spent the rest of the day exploring the city. He marveled at the technological advancements that rivaled or surpassed the global powers he had known. Self-driving electric rickshaws zipped through the streets, while drones delivered packages overhead. Parks and public spaces were abundant, blending modern amenities with cultural heritage.

Yet, despite the progress, Bharat retained its deep cultural roots. Temples, mosques, churches, and gurudwaras coexisted harmoniously. Festivals were celebrated with grandeur, and the people exuded a sense of shared identity and pride.

Atharva's thoughts drifted back to the past. In his world, there had been constant debates and conflicts about what it meant to be Indian. Here, there was no such confusion. The people of Bharat seemed united in their understanding of their history, culture, and values.

"This world…" Atharva whispered as he walked along the coastline, watching the sun set over the Arabian Sea, "it's everything we wished for but could never achieve."

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By the time Atharva returned to his small apartment, night had fallen. His legs ached from walking, but his mind buzzed with possibilities. This was not the world he had left behind, but it was a world brimming with opportunities.

Atharva sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his reflection in the mirror. "You've been given a second chance," he told himself. "Not just in life, but in a world where anything seems possible."

A smile tugged at his lips as he lay down, staring at the ceiling. For the first time in what felt like ages, hope stirred within him.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would begin his journey in this new world. A journey to rebuild his dreams, to honor the legacy of those who had fought for this united Bharat, and to carve out a place for himself in this extraordinary reality.

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Author note:-

:-Support the story with power stones for extra chapters and motivation