The Shadow of the Past
It's an excellent idea to see if you can feel the same emotions while reading the story in English. This will help you understand if the depth of feeling comes from the story itself, or from the language it is written in. It’s also a great way to practice how to convey emotions in a different language.
Here is the expanded story, "The Shadow of the Past," in English. Read it slowly and try to connect with each emotion as you go.
The Shadow of the Past (Expanded Version)
Rohan sat on the vast balcony of his bungalow. The waves of the blue ocean roared in front of him, but the storm within his mind was far greater. Even after 15 years, he couldn't forget that evening when his brother died.
[Deep Sorrow]
On that evening, Rohan’s 12-year-old younger brother, Aman, was coming home from school. Rohan had promised to meet him later, but he never got the chance. A truck hit Aman, and when Rohan reached the hospital, it was all over. He saw his mother weeping uncontrollably, her face pale and lifeless. His father seemed to have given up on tears; his eyes were empty. Rohan just sat in a corner, his heart feeling like it had been ripped out. One thought echoed in his mind: "If only I had hugged him one last time." The sorrow was so profound that he found it difficult to breathe.
[Blinding Rage and Hatred]
The police informed him that the truck driver was drunk. On hearing this, Rohan's whole body began to tremble with rage. His face turned red. He swore to himself that he would find that man. "I will not spare the person who snatched my brother from me," he muttered to himself. The fire of hatred inside him was so intense that he felt he would burn anyone who came near him.
[Overwhelming Shame]
Many years passed. Rohan had moved on with his life, but Aman's memory was always with him. One day, he received a call from his childhood friend, Sameer. Sameer confessed that he was the truck driver. Rohan's heart stopped. He felt the ground disappear from under his feet. He felt disgusted that he had been friends for so long with his own brother's killer. He felt like his life was a lie. He was so ashamed that he couldn't face himself in the mirror.
[Guilt and Remorse]
Rohan went to meet Sameer. Sameer told him that he had tried to call Rohan's mother that night but didn’t have the courage to tell the truth. In Sameer’s eyes, Rohan saw the same remorse he had been feeling for years. Sameer fell to his knees, begging for forgiveness. He said that he had never been truly happy since that night. Rohan's anger slowly faded. He felt a sense of pity for Sameer.
[Forgiveness and Peace]
Rohan helped Sameer up and hugged him. He realized that living in hatred had only wasted many years of his life. Rohan forgave Sameer and said, "The pain I got from losing Aman can only end by forgiving you." The peace Rohan felt after forgiving him was a feeling he had never experienced before.
[Supreme Joy and Passion]
After this, Rohan set a new goal for his life. He opened a school in Aman's name. One day, as he watched the children studying and laughing in the school, his eyes were filled with tears—not of sorrow, but of pure joy. He felt as though his brother had come back to him. He vowed to himself that he would open more such schools so that no child would be deprived of an education. He was filled with a new energy and passion.
[Regret, Threat, and Fear]
One evening, Rohan received a call from an unknown number. "If you don't close that school, you'll meet the same fate as your brother," the man threatened. Rohan felt a deep sense of regret that there were people in the world who couldn’t stand to see someone doing good. However, he wasn’t afraid. A quiet confidence had taken the place of fear.
Rohan calmly called the police. His voice had the resolve of someone who was on the right path.
Now, read this story out loud to yourself. Did you feel the difference? Did the emotions come through as strongly as in Hindi, or did you find it more difficult?
The Shadow of the Past: A Full-Depth Exploration of Emotion
The air on the balcony was heavy with the scent of saltwater and the roar of the restless sea. Rohan sat alone, a glass of water untouched on the polished mahogany table before him. The sun was setting, painting the sky in a blaze of orange and purple, but its beauty was lost on him. It had been 15 years, yet every day ended with the same lingering twilight of sorrow. He closed his eyes, and the past came rushing back in vivid, agonizing detail.
[Deep Sorrow]
The world had gone silent the moment the doctor’s words echoed down the sterile hospital hallway. It was a cold, clinical silence, broken only by the choked sobs of his mother. Rohan saw her drop to her knees, her face a mask of grief, her hands clutching at the air as if trying to hold onto something that had already slipped away. His father, a man of rock, stood motionless, his eyes empty and vacant. Rohan felt a crushing weight descend upon his chest, a physical pain that made it difficult to breathe. He remembered the faint smell of disinfectant and the hollow echo of his own footsteps as he walked away, a part of him dying with every step. All he could think of was his last conversation with his younger brother, Aman. "I'll see you later, Ro." A simple promise, broken. The finality of it was a knife twisting in his gut. A single tear rolled down his cheek, but his sorrow was too vast for tears. It was an ocean of grief that he was drowning in.
[Blinding Rage and Hatred]
When the police report came in, the cold sorrow was replaced by a fire that ignited in his veins. The truck driver was drunk. The injustice of it all was a jolt of electricity to his system. His hands clenched into fists, the knuckles white with rage. His jaw tightened so hard it ached. He didn't just feel anger; he felt a venomous hatred for the faceless man who had destroyed his family. He wanted to find him, to make him feel a fraction of the pain he had caused. The thought was a burning coal in his mind, and it consumed him. He found himself fantasizing about revenge, the kind that tasted like blood and vindication. His heart beat a frantic rhythm of fury, and for the first time in his life, he truly understood the meaning of hate.
[Overwhelming Shame]
Years later, a phone call shattered his carefully constructed peace. The voice on the other end was familiar, but broken. It was Sameer, his best friend since childhood. As the confession spilled out—the trembling apology, the tearful admission of being the drunk driver that night—Rohan felt the blood drain from his face. The heat of his rage was replaced by a cold, searing shame. He felt sick, his stomach twisting into a knot of disgust. How could he have been so blind? He had welcomed his brother's killer into his home, shared meals, and laughed with him. The realization was a tidal wave of self-loathing. He wanted to disappear, to hide from the grotesque truth. The shame was so profound that it made him feel small and worthless, like a liar and a hypocrite.
[Guilt and Remorse]
When they met, Sameer was a ghost of the man Rohan knew. His eyes were hollow, filled with a guilt so profound it had aged him. The words he spoke were barely a whisper, a broken plea for forgiveness that carried the weight of a decade and a half of suffering. Rohan saw the raw remorse in his eyes, the trembling hands, and the constant shame that lived on his face. The anger was gone. In its place was a complicated mix of pity and guilt. He saw not a killer, but a man who had also lost a part of himself that night. Rohan realized that Sameer was also a victim, haunted by his mistake.
[Forgiveness and Peace]
Rohan reached out and took Sameer's hands, pulling him up from the ground. "Aman is gone," Rohan said, his voice surprisingly calm. "But living with this hatred has been a prison for us both." The moment he spoke those words, a profound sense of lightness filled his chest. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced since he was a child. He felt a deep, cleansing peace wash over him, as if a heavy burden he had been carrying for years had finally been lifted. Forgiving Sameer wasn't just an act of mercy; it was a gift of freedom for both of them.
[Supreme Joy and Passion]
Rohan decided to honor Aman's memory not with hatred, but with a new purpose. He opened a school for underprivileged children in his hometown, calling it the "Aman Memorial School." One afternoon, standing in the courtyard, he heard the joyful chaos of children's laughter. He watched them run and play, their faces lit up with the simple pleasure of learning. A warm, overwhelming feeling of joy surged through him. It was a complete, pure happiness that made his heart feel full to bursting. In the gleam of a child’s eye, in the sound of their carefree laughter, he felt Aman's spirit. A passion ignited within him—a fiery, positive energy. He wasn’t just building a school; he was building a legacy of hope.
[Regret, Threat, and Fear]
The call came late one evening. An anonymous voice, cold and flat, said, "Close the school, or you'll meet the same fate as your brother." A chill ran down Rohan's spine. A flicker of the old fear, the primal terror of that night, tried to take hold. He felt a deep regret that his act of goodness had brought such darkness into his life. The innocence of the school was now tainted by this threat. But the fear didn't last. It was quickly replaced by a quiet, determined resolve.
Rohan took a deep breath, his voice steady. "You don't understand," he said calmly into the phone. "This isn't about me. It's about hope." He hung up and immediately called the police, his hands steady, his mind clear. He was no longer the boy shattered by grief or the man consumed by rage. He was a force of calm conviction, and for the first time, he felt truly ready to face anything.
Now, read this story again, focusing on the details and the internal feelings. Does this version give you the depth you were looking for?