She realized that her demand for "I love you" was actually a demand for Ego Validation. She wanted him to separate himself from her, stand back, and admire her. But he was too busy being her. He was the Ardhangini concept in action—he viewed her comfort as his comfort, her safety as his safety. The hand doesn't thank the mouth for eating; it just feeds it. Meera walked over to him. She didn't ask for a hug. She didn't demand a compliment. She picked up a towel and wiped the sweat off his forehead. Ankit looked up, surprised. "It's almost done," he said. "Just a washer was loose." "I know," Meera said softly. She handed him a glass of water. "Drink." In that exchange—the wiping of sweat, the passing of water—there was no "I" and no "You." There was no transaction. There was just the silent, powerful hum of a root feeding a tree. Back at the clinic, Kabir finally understood. He had spent his life waiting for a receipt—a verbal confirmation of love. But love isn't a business deal. It doesn't leave a paper trail. He looked at the empty chair next to him. "You never said it," Kabir whispered to the air, "because you never felt apart from me enough to say it." He took a deep breath. The ghabrahat in his chest eased. He stopped waiting for the flower. He finally accepted the root. ________________________________________ Key Concepts Covered in Narrative: 1. Duality vs. Non-Duality in Love. 2. Roots vs. Flowers Metaphor. 3. Love as Existence, Not Transaction. 4. Re-contextualizing Silence.