A New India

As King Tribhuvan's plane descended toward New Delhi, the cabin was quiet. The silence felt almost unbearable.

Tribhuvan sat by the window, his gaze fixed on the dim lights of the city below. They looked like stars scattered across the earth, but to him, they seemed distant, almost indifferent.

These lights belonged to a world he was about to enter a world that might never feel like his own.

With each passing mile, the weight of what lay ahead pressed down harder on his chest. This wasn't just a diplomatic visit; it was a leap into the unknown.

A decision that could either save his nation or doom it. And the closer they got to India, the heavier that burden became.

Colonel Rana, seated across from him, observed the King closely. Rana had been at Tribhuvan's side through countless challenges, but tonight, something felt different.

The King's usual composure seemed fragile, like it could shatter at any moment. Rana knew Tribhuvan was wrestling with fear of the consequences and fear of failure. But asking about it might only make things worse.

For years, Tribhuvan had balanced Nepal's independence, skillfully managing relationships with both China and India. Now, with this decision to merge with India, he was stepping off that tightrope into unknown territory. The risks were enormous, and the path ahead was anything but clear.

"Your Majesty," Rana said quietly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, cautious. "We're almost there. The formalities will start once we land, but… are you ready for this?"

Tribhuvan didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained on the city lights below, a faint frown creasing his forehead. For a moment, it seemed like he hadn't heard the question

But then he turned from the window, his expression serious, almost grim.

"Ready?" Tribhuvan echoed, as if testing the word on his tongue. "Can anyone be truly ready for something like this, Rana? It's too big. But we've made our choice. We have to see it through."

Rana nodded, but he could hear the doubt behind the King's words, the uncertainty that even Tribhuvan's resolve couldn't entirely mask.

"There's no turning back now," Rana said softly. "Once we land, this isn't just a political move. It's a statement to the whole world. China, Pakistan, the Western powers they'll all be watching us closely, looking for any sign of weakness. We have to stand firm."

Tribhuvan's gaze drifted back to the window. The lights of Delhi were closer now, brighter, but they didn't bring him any comfort.

His mind kept circling back to the risks, the potential consequences of this decision. He wasn't just gambling with his own future, he was gambling with the future of his country. If this went wrong, there'd be no undoing it.

"This isn't just about power or politics," Tribhuvan murmured, almost to himself. "It's about survival. The world is changing so fast, and if we don't change with it, we'll be left behind. India offers us security, stability things we haven't had for a long time. It's not perfect, but it's the best chance we have."

Rana leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if afraid to disrupt the King's thoughts. "And what about those back home who oppose this? The ones who'd rather side with China, or cling to our independence at all costs? They won't take this lightly."

Tribhuvan's face hardened, his jaw setting in a way that told Rana this wasn't a topic for debate. "I've done what I can to neutralize those threats, but I'm not naive. There will always be resistance. We'll deal with it when the time comes. But right now, we have to focus on the bigger picture on keeping Nepal alive as a nation."

Rana nodded again, though the concern didn't leave his eyes. "And if Beijing or Islamabad decides to act? They might see this as an opportunity to stir up more trouble."

Tribhuvan sighed, a deep, weary sound that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But remember, Rana, this isn't just about us anymore. By merging to India, we're sending a message: we won't be bullied, we won't be used as pawns. Let them make their moves and it won't be just us India will have to stand more taller to defend us"

As the plane continued its descent, Tribhuvan closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts. The decision had been made, and now there was no room for doubt. The future of his country depended on his resolve.

---

On the tarmac at Palam Air Base, Rohan Varma stood waiting. The night air was cool, biting at his skin through the layers of his Sherwani, but he barely felt it.

His mind was elsewhere, racing through every detail of the plan. There was no room for error tonight.

The smell of jet fuel hung in the air, sharp and pungent, mixing with the distant hum of the city. Despite the importance of the moment, life outside went on as usual, oblivious to the significance of what was about to unfold.

Rohan's aides stood nearby, their faces tense, eyes fixed on the approaching plane. They understood, as Rohan did, how much planning had gone into this night, how much was riding on everything going smoothly.

"Prime Minister," one of his aides said, breaking Rohan's concentration. "The plane is on final approach. Everything is ready for the welcome ceremony."

Rohan nodded, though his thoughts were already racing ahead, anticipating the next steps, the next potential pitfalls.

This moment was crucial, but it was just the beginning. There would be no second chances. They had to get this right.

"Keep all lines of communication open," Rohan instructed, his voice carrying an edge of urgency. "I want to know the minute anything changes. If Beijing or Islamabad even twitches, I need to hear about it immediately."

His aide nodded and stepped away, leaving Rohan alone with his thoughts once more. As the plane's lights grew brighter, a knot of unease tightened in his stomach.

They had planned for everything, but what if they'd missed something? What if Mao had a card up his sleeve they hadn't anticipated?

The plane touched down smoothly, the landing gear making a soft thud against the runway. As it taxied toward the waiting convoy, Rohan felt his pulse quicken.

This was the moment they had all been working toward for so long, but now that it was here, the weight of it felt almost unbearable.

The plane's door opened, and the staircase was quickly brought to the door. Rohan watched as King Tribhuvan appeared at the top of the stairs, his figure framed against the bright lights of the runway.

For a moment, everything seemed to pause, the world holding its breath as the King began his descent.

Tribhuvan moved slowly, each step deliberate, as though he was fully aware of the significance of what he was about to do.

When his foot finally touched the tarmac, it felt as if he had crossed an invisible line, one that would change the future of his nation forever.

Rohan stepped forward to greet him, their eyes meeting in a moment of mutual understanding.

This was not just a handshake between two leaders; it was the beginning of a partnership that had been carefully, if reluctantly, forged.

"Your Majesty," Rohan said as they shook hands, his voice steady but carrying the weight of everything unspoken. "Welcome to India."

Tribhuvan inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the formal greeting with the gravity it deserved. "Thank you, Prime Minister. Let us proceed. There is much to discuss."

They walked together toward the waiting convoy, surrounded by aides and security personnel, the air charged with the significance of what was to come.

Neither man spoke as they entered the armored vehicle, their silence heavy with the knowledge of the decisions that lay ahead.

The convoy moved through the dark streets of Delhi, heading toward South Block. The city was quiet, the roads cleared for their passage.

As they approached the government district, the first light of dawn began to break over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the buildings.

Inside the car, Rohan broke the silence. "Your Majesty, before we reach South Block, I want to assure you that every precaution has been taken. Our security forces are fully prepared, and the diplomatic protocols are in place. But I also want to stress the importance of patience. This is just the beginning."

Tribhuvan nodded, his gaze focused ahead. "I understand, Prime Minister. We are both aware of the complexities involved. Today is about more than signing agreements it's about laying the groundwork for a future partnership."

The convoy arrived at South Block, and the two leaders stepped out into the early morning light.

They were met by a small group of dignitaries and officials, who stood ready to guide them through the ceremonial aspects of the visit.

As they walked through the halls of the historic building, Tribhuvan could feel the weight of history pressing in on him.

The walls seemed to be full of voices of past history which has continued to shape this country for the past centuries.

Today, he was part of that history, making choices that would determine Nepal's place in the world.

But even as the gravity of the moment weighed on him, Tribhuvan knew one thing with absolute certainty: there was no turning back.

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