The community was fascinated by Rohan’s transformation. The whispers about his condition became loud speculations and rumors spread through the community. Was it a plague? Was it a disease? Was it a disease?
His unsettling look began to instill fear among his neighbors. Many people avoided his path and took wide detours if they happened to see him. The fear of his illness spreading prompted them to treat him as an infectious entity. Questions remained unanswered and rumors and conjectures increased, adding to the sense of uncertainty and mystery.
Rohan continued his silent fight. He refused to go to the doctor despite his constant fatigue and discomfort. He believed that doctors were only for the weak. This was a deeply held belief in his farming community. He bore his discomfort with grim tenacity and did not let anyone see how much it affected him.
The day finally came when Rohan could no longer ignore the pain. He felt a severe, crippling stomach pain during a particularly strenuous afternoon in the field. The pain was so severe that he fell to his knees and gasped for air. Workers around Rohan watched in horror as the ever-stoic Rohan, impervious of pain, writhed in the dirt. He could no longer hide his pain. He needed to get help.
Rohan was forced to go into a hospital by his friends. He had been accustomed to the comfort and familiarity of the fields, but now he found himself in sterile white surroundings far away from his home. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered over him, and the cold metal touch of the stethoscope was pressed against the swollen abdomen of Rohan. His heart beat with fear and excitement.
Was it possible to solve the mystery that plagued him? Will he have more questions or will he find the answer? It was a painful wait to hear the doctor’s verdict. When the diagnosis finally arrived, Rohan was in disbelief and questioned everything he had ever known.
