Ayaan was always in a hurry. As a real estate broker in the chaotic streets of Mumbai, his life was a whirlwind of missed calls, broken promises, and cutthroat deals. He wasn't a "bad" man, but he was a selfish one. He ignored his wife’s birthday to close a sale and snapped at his mother for "wasting his time" with a homemade lunch.
CG leaned back. "The game is a draw. But here’s the thing about the afterlife, Ayaan—we don't decide your fate. You do. If I send you back, will the jars look the same in forty years?" Ayaan was always in a hurry
Then came the rainy Tuesday. A slick road, a failed brake line, and a blinding flash of white light. a failed brake line