Marvel: Reborn in 20th century India

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Calcutta, Bengal, Bharat, January 14, 1944

A few months had passed since Aryan's ambitious plans began to take shape. Today, Bharat was alive with the vibrant celebrations of Makar Sankranti, Bhogali Bihu, and Pongal. The air was filled with joyous sounds of laughter and the sight of colorful kites dotting the sky, symbolizing the nation's newfound hope and prosperity.

The recent months had seen a remarkable transformation in Bharat's agricultural, dairy, and fisheries sectors, thanks to the onset of the Three-Colored Revolution. For the first time in their lives, a majority of the citizens from the bustling coastal cities to the remote and hilly regions of the North-East and the Himalayas had enough food on their plates to celebrate this auspicious festival. The streets were bustling with children playing joyfully, their faces lit up with smiles as they participated in kite-flying competitions. Meanwhile, adults took holy dips in rivers, lit bonfires, burnt makeshift huts called 'Meji,' or exchanged sweets made from sesame and jaggery.

In the southern parts of Bharat, Pongal was celebrated with great enthusiasm. Families gathered to cook the traditional Pongal dish, made from freshly harvested rice, symbolizing abundance and gratitude. The scent of sweet jaggery and fresh milk filled the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of people coming together in celebration.

Across the country, including the newly acquired territories, NGOs under Aryan's guidance and other prominent personalities like Jamsetji Tata organized free food distribution. The Sarvaseva Sangh, which had now spread its influence across Bharat, played a crucial role in these efforts. Their work had a direct impact on the lives of the people, especially those in the unorganized sector, who found it easier to secure work and support their families.

The Sarvaseva Sangh's social and upliftment work had transformed many lives. They provided education, healthcare, and vocational training, making life easier for the common people. The streets were filled with a emotions of community and togetherness, as people from all walks of life came together to celebrate.

In the villages, the sight of lush green fields and healthy livestock was a testament to the success of the agricultural reforms. Farmers, who once struggled to make ends meet, now proudly displayed their bountiful harvests. The dairy sector had also seen significant improvements, with milk production reaching new heights, ensuring that every child had access to nutritious food.

The fisheries sector, too, had flourished, providing a steady source of income for coastal communities. Fresh fish markets were bustling with activity, and the smiles on the faces of the fishermen spoke volumes about the positive changes in their lives.

Meanwhile, Karna, the Assistant Director of KAVACH, had been deeply engrossed in his work for the past few months, especially the search for Darkhold which was hidden among the various artifacts in Hydra's possession. The secretive nature of his job meant that he rarely had the luxury of spending time with his family. However, today was different. The vibrant celebrations of Makar Sankranti had given him a rare opportunity to return home to Calcutta and reunite with his parents.

As Karna's train pulled into Howrah Station, he felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. The familiar sights and sounds of Calcutta, with its bustling streets and the sweet aroma of freshly made sweets, filled him with warmth. He made his way through the crowded station, his heart racing with anticipation.

Upon reaching his ancestral home, Karna was greeted by the sight of his parents waiting at the doorstep. His mother, Radha, draped in a traditional Bengali saree, and his father, Suraj, wearing a crisp dhoti and kurta, beamed with pride as they saw their son, who had returned home from his busy work schedule. The house was adorned with colorful rangolis and the scent of incense filled the air, creating a festive atmosphere.

"Karna, my son! You have finally come home," his mother exclaimed, her eyes glistening with tears of joy. She embraced him tightly, her warmth and love enveloping him. His father, though more reserved, couldn't hide his pride. "Welcome home, Karna. We have missed you," he said, patting his son's back.

The family gathered in the living room, where a beautifully decorated altar with offerings of fruits, sweets, and flowers stood. Karna's mother had prepared a sumptuous feast, including traditional Bengali dishes like pitha, payesh, and luchi. The aroma of the food made Karna's mouth water, reminding him of the comforts of home.

As they sat down to eat, Karna shared stories of his work and the progress Bharat had made under Aryan's leadership. His parents listened intently, their faces reflecting a mix of pride and concern. "You are doing important work, my son. We are so proud of you," his father said, his voice filled with emotion.

"Of course, we are proud of Aryan too. What he has achieved at such a young age is simply remarkable. He has always been like our own son, and seeing your determination and success fills us with joy," Suraj continued, his voice filled with pride and joy.

"Yes, where is Aryan by the way? Did he not return to Calcutta with you to his home?" his mother Radha asked curiously, agreeing with her husband. She too was happy with the success of her children.

"Hmm…he said he will come a bit later," Karna answered with a smile. He normally didn't express himself much, but seeing his parents like this made him happy that he could bring a smile to their faces.

Hearing that, both of them nodded with a smile and continued their meal as they discussed various topics about their personal lives as well as their work.

After the meal, Karna and his parents participated in the traditional rituals of Makar Sankranti, honouring Surya Dev. They lit a bonfire in the courtyard, symbolizing the end of winter and the beginning of a new harvest season. The family exchanged sweets made from sesame and jaggery, a gesture of goodwill and prosperity.

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