"People usually are not pure evil, just misunderstood". The acharya ended the story, putting the last morsel in Revati's mouth.
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Revati, who was the synonym of liveliness, happiness, innocence and all the positive qualities mankind can ever possess, hadn't been herself lately. She, who could never be found near the bed before sunset, would only wake up to do her daily duties. And even that frequency had reduced in past few days. Sometimes, she'd wet the bed not being able to stand up due to fatigue. The squirrels and the birds, her friends missing her company would sneak in the hut through the windows or from the occasional holes in the clay walls to meet and cheer her up.
The acharya, Vishwesh, sitting outside in the verandah was the most helpless parent on the earth. His ancestry was of knowledgeable doctors, teachers, poets and scientists. One of his ancestors Sushrut was famous for his knowledge about natural medicines. On a normal day, he'd forget eating if he's busy writing. It'll be a week today since his pen tasted the ink last time. He knew the remedy and he had it practised, remembered and performed at least ten times before. It wasn't like he could not manage to gather all the required ingredients. And still, there he was, helpless as ever, not able to cure the apple of his eye.
The sounds of hoofbeats broke the chain of thoughts which had been trying to corner Vishwesh into an abyss. The rider of the snow white horse was none other than Ashoka.