
Keshav looked at the being he had created and whispered,
“Even without a clock, time will try to find you.”
Bhola would wake new every morning.
The pain would stay behind.
The memory would not.
But some fragments—
the deepest ones—
formed before thought, before memory—
would remain.
Stored not in his mind,
but in the shadow of the mind.
“One day,” Keshav whispered,
“that shadow will wake.”
And when it does,
the universe will have to face
what it tried to forget.
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