hey guys. your author here. 🤍

honestly? i don't know how many of you are even reading this.

i don't have numbers. i don't have comments. i don't really know if anyone is feeling what i am trying to write.

but i am writing anyway.

because this story exists in me and it needs to come out. whether ten people read it or ten thousand.

chapter 3 is here. it will make you laugh. it will make you feel warm. and then somewhere in between it will quietly do something to you that you won't see coming.

if you are reading this — thank you...genuinely  just you reading this is enough for me to keep going.

okay chapter 3 starts now. 🤍

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The Singhania dining room that morning was exactly what it always was,Loud,Chaotic And entirely too much for 8AM.

Manu had arrived at the table still in her oversized hoodie — hair in a bun so messy it had stopped being a bun and become a personal statement She slid into her chair, looked at the breakfast spread, and immediately reached across Aakarsh's plate for the paratha.

Aakarsh moved his plate without looking up from his phone...Manu's hand grabbed air.

She looked at him He looked at his phone...She reached again — further this time , He moved his plate again. Still not looking up.

"BHAIYA—"

"Apni plate mein se khan a moti." he said simply.

"Meri plate mein sirf ek paratha hai Bandar —"

"Toh ek paratha kha."

"Ek paratha mein kya hoga—"

"waise tera to 10 me bhi kuch na hoo ." Abhimanyu said from behind his file. Not looking up. " khair mote logo ko zyada bhukh lagti h Scientifically proven."

Everyone turned to look at him.

He continued reading his file.

"Abhimanyu." Ishita said.

"Hm."

"File band kar."

"Bas ek—"

"File. Band. Kar."

He looked up. Looked at Ishita. Looked at the file. Closed it with quiet dignity.

"apki meharbaani ." Ishita said sweetly.

"Main bas quarterly projections—"

"Nahi paramgyani please abhi nhi " Ishita said. Same sweet tone.

Abhimanyu pressed his lips together... Put the file under his chair , Picked up his chai like nothing had happened.

Nakesh watched this from the head of the table with the expression of a man who had built an empire and was now watching his family argue about a file and a paratha at 8AM.

"Is ghar mein—" he started.

"Papa aap bhi paratha loge?" Manu asked immediately.

Nakesh stopped , Looked at his daughter.

"Main keh raha tha—"

"waise cook ne aaj achcha banaya hai... Gehun ka hai. Aapko pasand hai na?" Manu smiled at him with the complete innocence of someone who knew exactly what she was doing.

Nakesh looked at her for a long moment...Then picked up a paratha.

Said nothing.

Suman pressed her lips together from the kitchen doorway.

"Manu." Aakarsh said. "Papa ko distract mat kar."

"haw maine kaha kuch kiya —"

"Classic deflection technique." Abhimanyu said. Nodding seriously. "Chapter 4. Negotiation tactics."

Everyone stared at him.

"...Maine padha tha." he said. Slightly less confidently.

"Tune negotiation tactics ki bhi book padhi hai?." Ishita said slowly.

"Self improvement—"

"Abhimanyu mere bhai " Ishita said. "Tune last month grocery list bhi spreadsheet mein banai thi."

"Efficiency—"

"Doodh. Bread. Eggs." she said. "Spreadsheet mein. Cells mein. Color coded."

Manu burst out laughing. Actually laughing — the kind that makes you put your paratha down because you need both hands to hold yourself together.

"COLOR CODED?!" she wheezed.

"Yellow for dairy." Abhimanyu said with complete dignity. "Green for vegetables. It made sense—"

"YELLOW FOR DAIRY—" Manu was gone. Completely gone.

"Manu it was a very efficient system—"

"ABHIMANYU BHAIYA I CANNOT—"

"Theek hai theek hai." Abhimanyu said. Straightening his collar with great dignity. "Haso. Haso sab. Main toh bas—"

"Color coded." Ishita said into her chai. Completely straight faced.

Aakarsh made a sound that was definitely not a laugh and was absolutely a laugh Even Nakesh  behind his newspaper — made a suspicious sound.

Aditya was eating his breakfast he had been eating his breakfast this entire time Like a man in a documentary about his own family. Abhimanyu looked around the table at everyone laughing at his expense...He picked up his chai Took a long dignified sip Set it down. ..And turned to Manu.

"Waise Manu." he said conversationally.

She was still wiping laugh tears. "Kya?"

"sunne me aayu  h NEET mock test ka result aaya tha kal."

The laughter died Manu's smile froze.

"...Haan." she said carefully.

"Kaisa raha ?"

"Achcha raha ."

"Kitne marks?"

"...Theek theek."

"Kitne Manu."

"Abhimanyu bhaiya—"

"Kitne." he said pleasantly. The smile of a man who had been waiting for this moment since the color coded grocery list incident.

"Chaar sau—" she mumbled.

"Hm? Suna nahi."

"CHAAR SAU TISATISFACTION SE KAM." she said loudly. "HO GAYA? KHUSH?"

"Chaar sau." Abhimanyu nodded seriously. "Out of?"

"...720..."

The table was silent.

Then —

"Color coding se marks nahi aate." Abhimanyu said thoughtfully. "But study schedule spreadsheet se zaroor aate hain. Yellow for Biology. Green for Chemistry. Very efficient."

Manu grabbed her paratha and threw it at him.

He caught it.

Took a bite.

"Shukriya." he said pleasantly. "Gehun ka hai naaaaa Achcha bana hai aaj."

"MAAAA—" Manu spun to Suman who had just sat down. "DEKHLO APNE BETE KO—"

"Dono ko dekh rahi hoon." Suman said calmly. Picking up her chai.

"Usne—"

"Tune pehle shuru kiya " Suman said simply.

Manu opened her mouth Closed it. Looked at Abhimanyu. He was eating her paratha with complete satisfaction.

"Main NEET crack karungi." she announced to the table. "Aur tab dekh lena sab."

"Zaroor." Aakarsh said warmly.

"Hum sab bhi yhi chahte hain." Nakesh said gruffly.

"Mock test thoda aur seriously lena." Ishita said practically.

"Color coded schedule chahiye?" Abhimanyu offered helpfully.

"ABHIMANYU BHAIYA I WILL—"

"Manu." Aditya said.

She stopped instantly. Looked at her bade bhaiya...He looked at her once...She sat down Picked up her chai...Muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "spreadsheet wala pagal hai" but said nothing further.

Abhimanyu smiled into his chai.

The table settled back into its morning rhythm — chai being sipped, plates being passed, Nakesh actually reading his newspaper this time, Ishita back on her phone, Aakarsh and Abhimanyu having a quiet work conversation on the side.

Normal Warm Completely theirs.

And then —

Suman put her chai down Looked at the table and something in her expression shifted — just slightly , Just enough for Nakesh aakarsh and ishita  to notice. 

One by one — like a quiet signal passing around the table — everyone sensed it.

Manu looked up from her chai...Even Abhimanyu stopped talking.

The morning held its breath.

"Aditya ne kal raat—" Suman began carefully

The table was very still.

"kuch kaha."

Manu put her chai down slowly , Ishita's phone went face down on the table. Which never happened abhimanyu's hand had stopped halfway to his paratha and just — stayed there. Suspended.

Aakarsh looked at his mother with the careful attention of a man who had learned that how Suman started a sentence was just as important as how she finished it.

Nakesh set his newspaper down.

Aditya kept eating.

"Kya kaha Maa." Aakarsh said. Quietly.

Suman looked at her chai.

Then at the flowers at the center of the table Then at her hands.

"Woh" she started.

"Maa." Manu said. Her voice had gone very small. "Seedha bolo please. Mujhe anxiety ho rahi hai."

"Anxiety nahi hoti tujhe." Abhimanyu said automatically. "Tum dramatic ho."

"ABHIMANYU BHAIYA ABHI NAHI—"

"Dono ke dono chup awaj na aye ab ." Nakesh said. Once. Quietly.

Silence Suman took one breath.

"Aditya ne kaha hai." she said. Carefully. Like she was placing each word down gently. "Ki woh—"

She paused.

"Maa." Ishita said. Her voice was very steady. "Bas ab bol bhi do ."

Suman looked up.

"Shaadi ke liye taiyaar hai." she said simply.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three—

"KYYYYAAAA—"

Manu's chair scraped back so violently it nearly fell. She was on her feet, both hands on the table, eyes the size of her chai cup, staring at Aditya across the table like he had just announced he was flying to the moon.

"BHAIYA NE KHUD BOLA?! APNE MUNH SE?! IS GHAR MEIN?! ADITYA SINGHANIA NE?!"

"Manu—" Aakarsh started.

"NAHI NAHI RUKO—" she spun to Suman. "Maa aapne sahi suna na?! Sapna toh nahi tha? apne chai pi ke suni thi naa—"

"Sapna nahi tha beta." Suman said. The warmth in her eyes barely contained.

"OH MY GOD." Manu sat down. Then stood up. Then sat down again. Then put both hands on her face. "OH MY GOD."

Abhimanyu had put his paratha down completely.

He looked at Aditya.

Then at his paratha.

Then at Aditya again.

"Bhai." he said. Very carefully. Like he was approaching a mathematical equation he didn't fully trust. "aap or shaadi... mtlb taiyaar?"

"Haan." Aditya said. Simply. Kept eating.

Abhimanyu processed this for approximately four seconds.

"Oh oh okay ." he said finally.

"OKAY?!" Manu spun to him. "BAS OKAY?! ABHIMANYU BHAIYA ADITYA BHAIYA NE SHAADI KE LIYE HAAN KAHA AUR AAP BAS OKAY?!"

"Main process kar raha hoon shyd " Abhimanyu said with great dignity.

"KYA PROCESS KAR RAHE HO—"

"Manu." Abhimanyu said patiently. "Hum sab khush hain. Main bas quietly khush hoon."

"QUIETLY KHUSH?! IS MOMENT KE LIYE QUIETLY KHUSH?!"

"Haan."

"SPREADSHEET BANAO KHUSHI KI — COLOR CODED — YELLOW FOR SHOCK GREEN FOR—"

"Manu." Aditya said.

She stopped instantly Sat down...Picked up her chai with slightly shaking hands Muttered something completely inaudible.

Ishita meanwhile had been very quiet.

She was looking at Aakarsh.

Aakarsh was looking back at her...That whole married couple silent conversation happening at full speed.

Then Ishita turned to Suman.

"Kab hua ye chamtkaar ?" she asked. Her voice completely steady. The voice of a woman who had questions and was going to ask all of them in order.

"Kal raat." Suman said.

"Khud se decision liya h naa force to nhi kr rhi?"

"Haan baba haan aditya singhania ko koi force kar sakta hai kya is maamle me to uski maa ki bhi nhi chalti"

"Haan baat to sahi h par mai maan kyu nhi pa rhi ...waise waise...Kya bola exactly?"

"Ishhu" Aakarsh said gently.

"Main sirf—"

"Baad mein." he said. Quietly. Looking at her with that look.

She held his gaze for one second.

Then nodded. Picked up her chai Then — very quietly — leaned toward him and said —

"Maine pehle kaha tha."

"Ishuu."

"Main sirf ek baar—"

"noooo."

"Theek hai." She picked up her chai innocently. Took a sip. Then — even more quietly — "Maine pehle kaha tha."

Manu snorted so hard she almost spilled her chai.

Abhimanyu pressed his lips together so firmly they disappeared.

Even Nakesh — the man who had built an empire, who had sat in boardrooms with prime ministers, who had never once in thirty years of marriage shown anything less than complete composure at this table —

Made a sound Just one sound Behind his newspaper That was definitely not a laugh Absolutely definitely not.

Suman shook her head with the expression of a woman surrounded by people she loved completely and found exhausting in equal measure.

Aakarsh looked at the ceiling briefly Then looked at his brother.

Aditya was still eating He had been eating this entire time.

Through Manu's screaming. Through Abhimanyu's processing. Through Ishita's maine pehle kaha tha. Through Nakesh's definitely not a laugh.

Just — eating.

Like a man in a nature documentary about his own family.

"Adii.?" Aakarsh said. Quietly. Just the two of them for a moment in the middle of all the noise.

Aditya glanced at him.

Aakarsh didn't say anything for a moment. Just looked at his younger brother — at this man who had carried something enormous for four months and had just done the hardest thing he had done in all of them — and something moved through his expression that had no words.

He just nodded.

Once. Small. Steady.

The kind of nod that meant everything and said nothing.

Aditya held his gaze for just a second.

Then looked back at his plate.

That was enough.

That was everything.

Manu had recovered slightly and was now whispering furiously to Abhimanyu about something — probably already planning things that nobody had asked her to plan. Abhimanyu was nodding seriously which meant he was either genuinely listening or mentally making a spreadsheet. Impossible to tell.

Ishita had her phone out again — but this time she wasn't scrolling. She was typing. Quickly. With the focused energy of a woman who had just remembered seventeen things that needed doing immediately.

Nakesh had put his newspaper down completely.

He was looking at Aditya.

Just — looking at him. The way fathers look at sons when they are proud in a way that has no comfortable shape. When the pride and the worry and the love all exist at the same time and there is no clean way to hold all three at once.

He cleared his throat.

"Acchi baat h fir to ." he said. Gruffly.

That one word.

From Nakesh Singhania.

Carried approximately everything.

The table had settled now into something warm and buzzing — that specific family energy when something big has happened and everyone is processing it in their own way. Chai cups being refilled. Quiet side conversations starting. Manu already on her phone probably texting someone she absolutely should not be texting yet.

It felt like morning again It felt like something had shifted Like a window had opened somewhere in this house that had been closed for a very long time.

And then —

Aditya put his fork down Slowly.

The table noticed. One by one. The conversations stopping. The phones going down. The chai cups being set aside.

He looked at the table Not at anyone specific. At all of them. This family — his family — with their warm chaotic buzzing relieved energy filling every corner of this room.

When he spoke his voice was quiet Completely even.

Like the last ten minutes of noise had simply not happened.

"Khush mat ho itna." he said.

The room went still immediately.

Not the uncomfortable kind. The listening kind.

"Aahana ko maa mil rahi hai she needs a mother now." He looked at his plate. Then back up — at all of them. "ye sab is liiye hi ho raha hai. Sirf ise liye meri beti ko mai is halat me nhi dekh paunga is lie bss." A pause. So brief. So heavy. "Main wahi hoon jo pehle tha. Kuch nahi badla mere andar. Kuch nahi badlega."

Nobody spoke.

"Jo bhi aayegi — woh Aahana ki maa hogi. Mere liye—" the quietest pause — "mere liye koi nahi aa raha. Na aaj. Na kabhi."

He picked up his chai.

Took one sip Set it down.

And went back to his breakfast.

Like he hadn't just reminded every single person at that table —

That underneath this moment. Underneath this decision that felt like progress. Underneath everything —

A man was still sitting there Broken In ways that hadn't healed And might not For a very long time.

The dining room was very quiet after that.

Manu was staring at her plate. Her eyes were doing that thing — that glossy thing — that she was trying very hard to stop.

Ishita said nothing. Phone face down. Hands around her chai cup.

Abhimanyu looked at his closed file.

Aakarsh looked at his brother's profile — at the straight shoulders, the set jaw, the complete stillness of a man who had said what he needed to say and was done — and felt something heavy and quiet settle in his chest.

Nakesh looked at his son And said nothing.

Because there was nothing to say.

And Suman —

Suman looked at her chai.

At the steam rising from it slowly in the morning light.

And thought —

Sahi ladki dhundhni hogi Bahut carefully Bahut sahi...Aur bahut jaldi.

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Sunday mornings in the Singh household had their own particular rhythm. Not the rushed weekday kind where everyone was moving in five directions at once. Sunday mornings were slower, softer, the kind of morning that did not ask anything of anyone and gave everything in return. The curtains in the living room were still half drawn, letting in that lazy warm Delhi morning light that fell across the floor in long golden strips. The ceiling fan moved slowly overhead just enough to keep the air comfortable. The television was on at low volume, some news channel that nobody was actually watching.

Anil was in the kitchen making chai. He had announced this twenty minutes ago with the confidence of a man who had absolutely no business being in a kitchen and had been in there ever since, humming something old and filmy between the sounds of vessels and spoons....Naira was on the sofa, reading glasses on, completely absorbed in something on her phone with the focused energy of a woman who had nowhere to be and intended to enjoy every second of that fact.

Sanskar was sprawled in the armchair, legs over one arm, head on the other, scrolling through his phone with the horizontal energy of a man who had operated vertically all week and was taking Sunday very personally...Nakshita was sitting on the floor against the sofa, laptop open on the coffee table, doing something that looked work related but given that she kept stopping to text someone was probably not entirely work related.

Abhudya was in the middle of the floor surrounded by his kingdom. Three cushions formed the outer boundary. His bunny sat at the center. Two plastic cars were parked at angles that made sense only to him. A small wooden block tower stood slightly to the left already leaning dangerously. Abhudya himself was sitting cross legged in the middle of all this, tongue slightly out, completely absorbed in fitting a round block into a square hole. He had been attempting this for seven minutes and showed no signs of giving up.

Then the sound of feet on the stairs.

Misha appeared at the bottom of the staircase. Her long black hair was down and loose, slightly wavy from sleep, falling around her shoulders. She was in a soft striped top and shorts, comfortable and completely effortless, with a faint pillow crease on her cheek that she had not noticed and would not notice for another twenty minutes.

Sanskar looked up from his phone.

He looked at his sister standing at the bottom of the stairs, still half asleep, hair everywhere, completely unbothered by the world, and something easy and warm came into his face.

"Aa gayi sleeping beauty ." he said.

Misha looked at him with one eye barely open. "Bhaiya."

"Haan."

"Sone do."

"aree ye kya baat hui tu khud aayi neeche aaj to abhi bhi nhi gya upar" he pointed out.

She had no answer for this. She walked to him and leaned down and kissed his cheek. He put his phone down, actually put it down, and pulled her into a proper hug the way big brothers hug their younger sisters, one arm around her shoulders, hand pressing her head briefly against him.

"Neend aayi theek se betu ko?" he said.

"Hmm shyd ..." she said into his shoulder.

"Jhooth mat bol mujhse."

"Do baje soyi thi." she said. "Case study thi."

He let her go and looked at her face properly. Checked her eyes the way doctors check things without meaning to. Then he flicked her forehead lightly.

"thora jaldi sona suru kar betu ." he said simply. Like it was decided.

"Bhaiya."

"Haan?"

She looked at him. He looked back at her with that expression that said I said what I said and I am not taking questions.

She went to Nakshita next and leaned down to kiss her cheek. Nakshita grabbed her wrist before she could straighten up, pulled her down to sit on the floor beside her, and looked at her face the way Sanskar had just looked at it.

"ruk to dikha pehle Aankhon ke neeche dark circles hone lage hai sunti kyu nhi h tu ." Nakshita said pointing.

"Bhabhi main theek hoon."

"aakho ke neeche black hole ban rha h lekin yeh theek h." Nakshita said. She reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind Misha's ear. "Aaj ghar pe hi rehna. Kuch mat karna. Bas araam."

"Mujhe padhna tha—"

"Misha."

"Haan."

"Bas araam."

Misha opened her mouth. Nakshita raised one eyebrow. Misha closed her mouth.

She went to Naira, leaned down and kissed her cheek. Naira put her phone down completely, took Misha's face in both hands, looked at her for one long moment the way only mothers look at their children, and kissed her forehead.

"Meri baby." she said softly. Just that. Just those two words.

Misha smiled. The kind of smile that only comes from being completely unconditionally loved.

She went to the kitchen doorway. Anil was at the stove, completely focused, humming. She leaned against the doorframe.

"Papa."

He looked up immediately. His whole face changed the way fathers faces change when their daughters appear.

"Uth gayi meri mishu." he said. He opened his arm. She went to him and he hugged her with one arm, pressing a kiss to her hair, the other hand still on the chai vessel because he was not abandoning this project for anything.

"Chai ban rahi hai." he said proudly.

She looked at the stove. "Smell acha aa rahi hai."

"Obviously."

"waise last time bhi smell achi aayi thi." she said carefully. "or Phir bhi teen log...."

"Mishuuuu."

She disappeared back into the living room. "I know Papa I know."

Sanskar was already laughing. Nakshita had her face in her hands. Naira picked her phone back up with the expression of a woman who had accepted her life completely.

Misha dropped onto the sofa beside Naira and settled comfortably, pulling her feet up under her.

Nakshita looked up from her laptop at Misha beside her on the sofa and said completely casually, "Woh red dress dekhi maine kal online.... Teri figure pe bilkul perfect lagega."

Misha turned to her immediately. Sleep forgotten. "haiin sacchiii kaha dekhaaa ?"

"Ek new brand hai koi to online mee you know. Bahut acha h unka collection actually. Simple but different."

"Send karna zara link."

"Kar rhi baby. or sun — unka indo western bhi dekh lena. Ek white piece tha jo—" Nakshita stopped and made a small gesture with her hand that communicated something only women understand completely.

Misha understood immediately. "hehe oooo Tha ya hai abhi?"

"Check nhi kiya maine tabse abhi ruko dekho Stock khatam hota hai jaldi inka"

Both of them were on their phones within seconds, scrolling with the focused energy of two people who had just identified a mission.

Sanskar watched this from his armchair. Two seconds ago his sister was half asleep at the bottom of the stairs. Now she was fully awake and scrolling through clothes at ten thirty on a Sunday morning with the concentration she should probably be applying to her case studies.

"Yeh kya faltu karte rahte ho online ho tumlog." he said.

"Shopping." Nakshita said without looking up.

"subah subah uthte hi kon mynta or wo kys h tum log ka savanna scroll karta hai?"

"aap nhi samjhoge rehndo."

"main hi samjhunga aisa kyu dhang se batao mujhe bhi ?"

"San." Nakshita said pleasantly. "Tum yeh nahi samjhoge."

"Kya nahi samjhunga—"

"Yeh." Misha said, turning her phone toward him showing him what was on the screen.

He looked at it. It was a midi A perfectly normal midi . He looked at his sister. Then at his wife. Then back at the midi.

"Yeh toh midi hai shyd ." he said.

Both of them looked at him.

"Haan." Misha said slowly.

"Toh?" he said.

"San." Nakshita said with the infinite patience of a woman explaining something to someone who will never fully understand. "Yeh sirf midi nahi hai."

"Toh kya hai."

"Yeh vibe hai."

Sanskar stared at his wife. "Vibe."

"Haan baddie vibe."

"baddie? Hey bhagwan ab Kapda vibe me kya vibde ..kapdo me vibe nahi hota Nakshu."

"San please." Nakshita said turning back to her phone. "Tum doctor ho. Yeh tumhari field nahi hai."

Misha was already laughing, shoulders shaking, phone still in hand. Sanskar looked at the ceiling with the expression of a man who had tried and accepted his limitations.

"papa zara sunna" he called toward the kitchen.

"Haan?" Anil called back.

"Yahan aao."

"Chai ban raha hu nalayak."

"Ek minute."

Anil appeared at the kitchen doorway, spoon in hand, slightly suspicious. "bol kya hai ?"

Sanskar pointed at his wife and sister on their phones. "Yeh dono kapde me kuch to baddie vibe bol rahe hain. aap samajhte ho kya matlab hai iska?"

Anil looked at Misha. Then at Nakshita. Then at Sanskar. Then went back into the kitchen.

"Main chai banana ko zayda asan samjhta hu ." he said.

Misha and Nakshita dissolved completely. Actually laughing, the kind that makes you put your phone down because you need both hands to hold yourself together. Even Naira looked up from her phone smiling. Even Anil could be heard laughing quietly from the kitchen.

Sanskar sat in his armchair with great dignity.

"ye sab mujhe humesha akela chod dete hai sahi h bhai meri biwi or behan ke beech me mai thirl wheel feel karta hu." he announced.

"Bhaiya." Misha said, still laughing.

"Hmm."

"Woh white piece bhi dekho jo bhabhi ne bataya tha." she said. "Shayad samajh aaye."

"Bilkul nahi dekhna." he said firmly.

"San." Nakshita said sweetly. "Dekh lo aapke liye to Educational hoga."

"Mujhe education nahi chahiye kapdon ki."

"Chaiye nhi ki samjhne bhar ki akal nhi " Nakshita said under her breath.

Misha snorted.

Sanskar pointed at his wife. "Yeh suna maine."

"obviously sunane ke liye hi bola tha babyy." Nakshita said innocently.

Abhudya had looked up from his block problem at the sound of laughter and located Misha on the sofa. He abandoned his kingdom immediately and toddled directly toward her with the focused purpose of someone who had identified their destination and intended to reach it.

He reached the sofa and looked up at her. "Bua."

"Aa ja mera baccha ." she said opening her arm.

He climbed up with great effort, one knee then the other, and settled himself into her side. She pulled him closer, her arm going around him naturally, phone still in her other hand.

He reached for her phone immediately.

"Noo." she said.

He looked up at her. Then at the phone. Then at her again.

"Nahi Abhu." Her hand moved his hair off his forehead while she said it.

He sighed. An actual sigh. Then settled against her, his small hand finding hers and holding it loosely.

"Chai ready hai." Anil appeared with the tray looking extremely pleased with himself.

Misha looked at the chai. Then at her father. "Smell to acchi aa rahi hai Papa."

"Obviously." Anil set the tray down.

"Last time bhi—"

"Mishu bahut shaitan hogyi h tu ."

She picked up her cup with complete innocence. Took one careful sip. Everyone watched her.

"kya baat h Papa." she said.

He braced himself.

"Bahut achhi bani hai."

Anil sat down in his armchair and picked up his own chai and said absolutely nothing but he was smiling for the next ten minutes straight.

Abhudya grew restless. He climbed off Misha's lap and walked back to his kingdom on the floor. He stood in front of his fallen block tower for a moment. Then sat down and started rebuilding without any fuss. Misha followed him down to the floor and sat beside him, handing him blocks one by one. He took each one without looking up and placed them carefully.

Then Abhudya spotted the sofa armrest.

He stood up and walked to it with great purpose. He wanted to climb it. This was very clear.

"Abhu." Misha said.

He ignored her completely and grabbed the edge with both hands.

"Abhu nahi." She reached toward him.

He got one foot up on the sofa cushion and grabbed the armrest higher, pulling himself up with the determination of someone who had a very important reason to be up there. He got both knees on the sofa cushion and grabbed the very top of the armrest and for approximately one second he was triumphant and standing and very pleased with himself.

Then he fell.

Not dramatically. Just suddenly. One moment standing, next moment not. He went sideways off the sofa cushion and hit the floor with a small thud, his elbow catching the edge of the coffee table on the way down.

One second of complete silence.

Then Abhudya's face crumpled and he started crying. Not the performative kind. The real kind. The kind that comes from actual pain and actual shock and has no audience in mind.

Misha was already on the floor beside him before anyone else had fully processed what happened. She scooped him up in one motion, pulled him against her chest, one hand cradling his head, the other arm wrapped around him completely.

"kyu nhi sunte ho aap haan dekho la gyi na betu ...Aa ja aa ja. Bua hai na idhar aaja Main hoon yahan." Her voice was low and completely steady. She was already checking his elbow with her fingers, pressing gently, checking for anything serious. "Dekhu zara.... Yahan dard horha hai?"

Abhudya was crying against her shoulder, both fists grabbing her top, face buried completely.

"nhi mera beta aise rote nhi h strong ho na aap .....shh shh rona nhi." Her hand moved in slow circles on his back. She pressed her lips to the side of his head and kept them there, rocking him slightly.

The room moved all at once. Sanskar was already sitting up, Anil's chair scraped forward, Nakshita had closed her laptop. Naira had put her phone down and nobody said a word nor Nobody moved toward him.

Because he was not crying anymore.

It had taken less than a minute. Abhudya's crying had gone from full to quiet to almost nothing, still hiccupping slightly against Misha's shoulder, his fists still grabbing her top but loosening now. His face was still buried in her neck but his breathing had slowed completely.

She was still rocking him slightly, hand still moving on his back, lips still pressed to the side of his head.

"Theek hai.ab theek hai shhh shhh. Sab theek hai mera bacha."

Abhudya hiccupped once more. Then went completely quiet against her.

Nobody said anything for a moment.

Naira picked up her chai quietly.

Anil leaned back in his armchair slowly.

Sanskar looked at his sister on the floor holding his son and then looked at his phone and said nothing.

Nakshita opened her laptop.

The Sunday morning continued around them exactly as before.

Abhudya lifted his head from Misha's shoulder after a while. He looked at his elbow. Then at Misha.

"Dard." he informed her seriously.

Aww mera baccha." She pressed a kiss to his elbow very gently. "Ab theek?"

He considered this with great seriousness. "Haan." he decided.

He climbed off her lap, walked back to his block tower, sat down, and picked up exactly where he had left off.

Misha stayed on the floor watching him for a moment. Then she reached out and handed him the next block.

He took it without looking up.

Suman had not planned on telling anyone yet.

She had been thinking carefully for days — turning the question over, looking at it from every angle, trying to find the right way to move forward without moving too fast. Aditya had said yes. But yes and done were two very different things. And between those two things lived approximately everything that could go wrong if handled carelessly.

She needed someone who knew people. Someone who moved in the right circles. Someone who could ask around quietly and carefully without making it a public announcement.

What she did not need was Sunita Sharma And yet.

Sunita Sharma had appeared at her door on a Tuesday afternoon with a box of mithai and approximately four hundred things to say about approximately everyone she had encountered in the last two weeks and Suman — tired, distracted, her mind elsewhere — had made the critical error of offering her chai.

By the time the chai was finished Sunita aunty knew everything.

Not because Suman had told her everything.

But because Sunita aunty had a particular gift — a truly exceptional, almost supernatural gift — of extracting information from people who had not intended to share it. She asked questions the way a surgeon used a scalpel. One small precise cut and suddenly everything was open.

"or sab theek hai na ghar mein?" Sunita aunty had asked. Innocently. Over her second cup of chai. Eyes moving around the room the way they always moved — cataloguing, assessing, filing away.

"Haan bhabhi sab theek hai." Suman had said.

"Aditya beta ab kaisa hai? Office or gahr ab dono... kaam zyada toh nahi ho gaya uske liye?"

"nahi nahi aise kuch nhi h balki Theek hai woh."

"Aur Aahana? Badi ho rahi hogi ab?"

"Haan betiyan to kaafi jaldi badi hoti bhi h."

"Aur baaki sab? Abhimanyu? Manu?"

"Sab theek hain bhabhi."

"Achcha achcha." Sunita aunty nodded. Sipped her chai. Looked at Suman with those eyes that missed nothing. "Koi tension to nahi hai ns ? Koi baat?"

And Suman — who had been carrying this alone for weeks, who had nobody to think out loud with, who was tired of turning this over by herself — had said without fully meaning to:

"Ek rishte ki baat soch rahi hoon....Mere bete ke liye."

That was all she said.

That was all she needed to say.

Because Sunita Sharma — known in approximately every drawing room in South Delhi as Naagin aunty, a title she had earned through years of dedicated service to the cause of knowing everything about everyone — had leaned forward in her chair with the focused energy of a woman who had just been given purpose.

"KIS BETE KE LIYE." she said  not a question a  declaration.

"Sunita—"

"Bolo bolo. Koi tension nahi. Main kisi ko nahi bataungi." She was already mentally telling approximately forty seven people. "Kaun hai? Kya chahiye? Ladki dekhni hai? Main jaanti hoon bahut log. Bahut achchi families hain. Ek Singh family hai — Dr. Anil Singh. Bahut respected hain. Unki beti hai — doctor hai khud bhi. Bahut sundar hai. Bahut achchi hai. Maine dekha hai unhe. Bilkul sahi rahegi."

Suman blinked.

Of all the directions this conversation could have gone — this was not one she had anticipated.

"Sunita main sirf—"

"Nahi nahi suno pehle." Sunita aunty was already fully in motion, chai forgotten, leaning forward with both elbows on the table. "Main Anil Singh ko jaanti hoon. Achche insaan hain. Beti ko bahut pyaar karte hain. Ladki bhi bohut achchi hai — main guarantee deti hoon. Aur tumhari family ke saath bilkul fit rahegi."

Suman sat very still.

She thought about what she actually knew about the Singh family. Dr. Anil Singh — respected name. She had heard it before in certain circles. His daughter — a doctor herself apparently. Young. She didn't know much else.

But something made her not correct Sunita aunty's assumption Not yet.

"Woh kitni badi hain?" Suman asked carefully. "Ladki."

"umar to nhi pata par haan ." Sunita aunty said immediately. Like she had a file. "AIIMS mein hai. MD kar rahi hai. Bahut smart hai... Bahut gharelu bhi hai... Ek dum sahi gharana hai unka."

Suman was quiet for a moment.

Doctor. AIIMS. Good family.

"Aur ghar mein?" Suman asked.

"Ek bhai hai. Sanskar Singh. IVF specialist. Shaadi shuda hai. Bhabhi bhi doctor hain. Maa baap dono hain. Bahut warm family hai Suman. Bilkul tumhari family jaisi."

Warm family. That word sat with Suman.

She needed warm. She needed genuine. She needed someone who came from a home where love was real and not performed.

"sunne me to kaafi acche log h ." Suman said finally. Carefully. "Dekh sakte hain."

Sunita aunty looked like she had personally won something significant.

"MAIN JAANTI THI." she said loudly to nobody in particular. "Maine pehle hi socha tha yeh rishta hona chahiye. Main toh pehle se—"

"bhabhiii." Suman said. "Dheeraj se. Aur please — abhi kisi ko mat batana. Pehle main ghar mein baat karungi."

"Haan haan bilkul nahi bataungi." Sunita aunty was already picking up her phone. "Bas Anil ji ko boluongi ki Singhania family dekh rahi hai unki beti ko. Unke bete ke liye."

"bhabhiii—"

But Sunita aunty was already dialing.

Suman closed her eyes for one second.

This was either going to work out perfectly.

Or it was going to be a complete disaster.

With Naagin aunty — it was always one of those two things. Nothing in between.

Meanwhile on the other end of Delhi —

Anil Singh's phone rang at approximately four thirty in the afternoon while he was reviewing patient files at his clinic.

He did not recognize the number immediately. Then he did. Sunita Sharma. He had met her approximately twice in his life at various social functions and both times had walked away slightly dizzy from the volume and speed of information she had delivered. He answered with the mild apprehension of a man who knew what was coming.

"ANIL JI." Sunita aunty's voice came through at a volume that suggested she believed phones still needed to compensate for distance. "Kya haal hai? Sab theek? Clinic acha chal raha hai? Misha beta kaisi hai? Aur Sanskar? nakshita?"

"Sab theek hai Sunita ji." Anil said patiently. "Aap batiye kaise yaad kiya."

"Anil ji main seedhi baat karne wali hoon." A pause that lasted approximately zero seconds. "Singhania family hai. Naksh Singhania. Boost Enterprises wale. Jaante hain na?"

Anil sat up slightly. "H..haa..haan jaanta hoon. Naam to suna hai."

"Unka beta hai. Bahut achcha ladka. Settled hai. Family bahut respected hai. Woh log Misha beta ko dekhna chahte hain."

Anil was quiet for a moment.

Singhania family. Nakesh Singhania. Boost Enterprises. One of the most powerful names in Delhi. Their son.

"huamri misha ke liye ...kon uska sabse chota beta?" he asked.

"ji haan bilkul Beta ." Sunita aunty said with complete confidence. "Bahut achcha hai. Main guarantee deti hoon."

Anil sat with this information for a moment. Singhania family had sons — he knew this vaguely. He tried to remember what he knew. Eldest son Aakarsh — already married. Then — Abhimanyu. CFO. Unmarried as far as he knew.

Abhimanyu Singhania.

Anil thought about this carefully. Powerful family. Established name. CFO of a major company. A future that would keep Misha safe and secure and connected to one of Delhi's strongest families.

He thought about his own plans. His own calculations. The things he needed to put in place. The connections he needed.

Singhania family.

"Theek hai Sunita ji." he said. His voice completely calm. Completely warm. "Hum milte hain. Baat karte hain bacche ek dusre ko pasand kar le or kya."

Sunita aunty made a sound of extreme personal triumph.

"MAINE KAHA THA." she announced. "Maine pehle hi kaha tha yeh rishta hona chahiye. Main toh pehle se—"

Anil held the phone slightly away from his ear.

And thought.

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The Singh household at dinner time was exactly what it always was.

Loud Warm Completely its own world.

The dining table had that particular evening energy — everyone settling in after their respective days, chai cups being replaced by dinner plates, Abhudya installed in his high chair with the authority of someone who owned the table and was generously allowing others to sit at it. Naira had made rajma chawal , Which meant Misha had been hovering near the kitchen for approximately twenty minutes before dinner was served, appearing at the doorway every few minutes with the focused intention of someone monitoring a very important situation.

"Ready hua?" she asked. For the fourth time.

"Mishu aise puchne ne rajma jaldi to nhi ban jayega na ki humari mishu ko khana h jaldi ban jaate h gadhedi ja bahae ja " Naira said without turning around.

"kitna time lagegaaa"

"ban rha h na betu wait kar or baar baar yaha kyu aarhi h ."

"Main bas dekh rahi thi—"

"kya dekh rhi hai hmm mai banake yaha khudhi thori khalungi na laungi na bahar ja baith jaake ."

Misha retreated back to the dining table and sat down beside Sanskar with the expression of someone who had tried their best and been unfairly stopped.

Sanskar looked at her. "Kitni baar gayi tu aaj ?"

"Chaar." Nakshita said helpfully from across the table.

"Main toh bas—"

"Paanch." Anil said from his chair, not looking up from his phone. "Ek baar main bhi gaya tha aur ye pehle se thi wahan."

"PAPA."

"Haan betu."

"Aap bhi ab mumma ke side ho ?!"

"are nhi betu Maine sirf sach bola." Anil said with complete innocence.

Misha looked at the ceiling with the expression of a woman deeply wronged by her entire family.

Sanskar put roti on her plate. "areee aa jayega abhi Ruk."

"Mujhe rajma chahiye."

"Aayega."

"Abhi chahiye."

"Mishu."

"Haan."

"tu aise kyu karti hai jaise hum tujhe ghar me khana nhi dete."

She picked up her glass and drank her paani with great dignity.

Abhudya chose this moment to throw his spoon on the floor With great purpose. Like he had been planning this for some time and had decided now was the right moment.

Everyone looked at him he looked back at everyone. Completely unbothered.

"Abhu." Nakshita said.

He looked at his mother.

"Spoon."

He looked at the floor where the spoon was.

Then looked back at his mother.

"wo rha udhar." he informed her seriously.

"Maine dekha." Nakshita said. "Uthao."

He looked at the spoon on the floor Then at his mother Then at the spoon again with the expression of someone for whom this was an unreasonable request.

"Nahi." he said.

Sanskar pressed his lips together.... Naira appeared from the kitchen with the rajma and caught the tail end of this negotiation.

"Abhudya." Naira said. In that specific grandmother voice that had approximately forty years of authority behind it.

Abhudya looked at his naani...Then looked at the spoon.

Then picked it up immediately and held it out to Nakshita like he had been planning to do this the whole time Nakshita took it with the expression of a woman who had won but was too tired to feel victorious about it.

Naira set the rajma on the table and everyone moved at once — the particular organized chaos of a family that has eaten together long enough to have their own system without ever discussing it. Plates being passed Roti being distributed Sanskar putting rajma on Misha's plate before she could ask which she had been about to do.

"Aur daal kaha h wo bhi dena." Misha said.

"Yeh lo pehle."

"Daal bhi chahiye saath mein."

"Mishu ruk ek second—"

"Bhaiya rajma aur daal saath mein khate hain."

"Koi nahi khata aisa."

"Main khati hoon."

"Tu paagal hai."

"Daal daal daal."

Sanskar gave her the daal with the expression of a man who had lost and was at peace with that.

Anil watched his children from the head of the table. His daughter happily eating the rajma daal combination that apparently only she in the history of food had ever requested. His son feeding her with the automatic ease of someone who had been doing this her whole life. The warmth of this table. This family.

He cleared his throat slightly.

"Ek baat—" he started.

"Papa rajma lo." Misha said, pushing the bowl toward him without looking up.

"Haan beta leloonga... Ek baat—"

"Thanda ho jayega."

"Mishu beta main—"

"Lo na Papa abhi."

Anil took the rajma...Naira pressed her lips together.

He tried again. "Toh main ek—"

Abhudya threw his spoon again Everyone stopped Abhudya looked around the table with the calm satisfaction of someone who had successfully redirected everyone's attention.

"ABHUDYA." Nakshita said.

"Gir gaya." he said again. Completely serious.

"gir gya ki gir diya shaitan ?"

He looked at his hands Then at the spoon on the floor. Then at his mother with an expression that said he also found this mysterious and was open to theories Sanskar actually laughed.... A real one Nakshita picked up the spoon with the specific exhaustion of a mother of a two year old. Misha was already leaning over making faces at Abhudya who immediately forgot the spoon situation entirely and started laughing.

"Misha khana kha le pehle betu ." Sanskar said.

"Main kha to rahi hoon."

"Tu Abhudya ke saath khel rahi hai."

"Multitasking kehte hai sir use."

"Yeh multitasking nahi hai for you kind information or shaitani nhi ab"

"Bhaiya yrr app doctor ho ya teacher har baat pe NAHIII "

Nakshita snorted into her dal Naira looked at Anil with the patient expression of a woman waiting for him to try again.

Anil cleared his throat. Again. Slightly louder this time.

"Ek important baat karni thi." he said. Firmly. With the energy of a man who was going to finish this sentence if it killed him.

Something in his tone made everyone look up.

Misha stopped making faces at Abhudya Sanskar looked up from his plate while Nakshita also put her spoon down and Naira went very still.

The table had shifted. Just like that. From chaos to quiet in one second. Anil looked at his family. At each of them. Then said it.

"Singhania family ka rishta aaya hai. Misha ke liye."

Complete silence.

Then —

Sanskar's hand — which had been reaching for his roti — stopped completely in midair.

He did not pick up the roti He did not put his hand down.

He just — stopped.

"Kya." he said. Not a question. Not angry yet. Just — processing.

"Singhania family." Anil said. "Naksh Singhania. Boost Enterprises. Unka—"

"Misha ke liye?." Sanskar repeated. Very quietly. Like he was making sure he had heard correctly.

"nahi tere liye or kiske liye aaye sanskar kaise baat karta hai ."

The roti hand came down. Slowly. Sanskar looked at his father. Something was moving through his expression — not the explosion yet. The thing before the explosion. That particular stillness of a person whose brain is catching up to information their heart has already reacted to.

"Kitni badi hai Mishu abhi ." he said. Quietly. To nobody.

"San—" Nakshita started.

"Panchees." he answered himself. "sirf Panchees saal.or to AIIMS mein hai. Abhi resident hai." His voice was completely level. Which was somehow worse than volume. "Abhi apni life settle kar rahi hai apni."

"Beta bas milna hai—" Anil started.

"or aap shaadi ki baat kar rahe ho." Sanskar said. Simply. "Misha ki shaadi Abhi." He looked at his father directly. "Nahi hogi."

Just that. One word. Completely final.

Misha had been very still through all of this. Watching her brother's face. Watching her father's face. Feeling the tension building between them like something physical in the air above the table.

Naira quietly put more rajma on Misha's plate. Her hand stayed near her daughter's for just a moment. Misha looked at her mother. Naira looked back at her. Said nothing.

Abhudya — completely unaware of everything — held out a piece of roti toward Sanskar cheerfully.

Nobody took it.

He looked around the table. Sensed something. Put the roti back on his plate and went very quiet. Even Abhudya understood when a room had changed.

Anil looked at his son steadily. "Sanskar. Main sirf—"

"Papa." Sanskar's voice was still quiet. Still level. But underneath it — that protective fury that had nowhere comfortable to go. "agar aapko misha ab zimmedari lagne lagi h to thk h aap apna haath peeche karlije bhai h uska mai dekhluna apni behan ko saari umar ...yrrr Woh meri behen hai choti behen. Aur aap—" he stopped himself. Jaw tight. "Mujhe samajh nahi aa raha ki itni jaldi kya hai."

"Jaldi nahi hai. Bas ek meeting—"

"Meeting se shaadi tak ka raasta bahut chhota hota hai.papa" Sanskar said. "Main jaanta hoon kaise kya hota hai yeh sab."

The table was completely silent.

Nakshita looked at her plate. Naira looked at her chai. Abhudya looked between his father and his nana with the confused attention of someone who understood tone if not words.

And Anil — steady, calm, composed — looked at his son and said nothing more. Because he knew Sanskar. He knew pushing right now would make it worse. He had said what he needed to say. Now he let it sit.

The silence stretched.

And then —

"Bhaiya."

Sanskar looked at Misha immediately.

She was looking at him. Those eyes. Soft. Direct. The eyes that had been getting their way with him since she was approximately three years old and had figured out exactly how to use them.

"Bas milne ko keh rahe hain papa." she said quietly. "Please aap gussa mat karo mil lete hain please?."

Sanskar looked at his sister for a long time.

At this girl his sister sitting there asking him for something with those eyes that he had never in his life been able to say no to...Not once Not ever. Not when she was three and wanted his toy. Not when she was twelve and wanted him to cover for her. Not now.

He looked away from her.

At the wall at nothing his jaw working once Twice.

The silence stretched another long moment.

Then —

"Bas mil lete hai ." he said. Low. Tight. "Koi pressure nahi... even Koi final baat bhi nahi got it?. Bas milna Aur agar mujhe thoda bhi -" he stopped. "Khair Bas milna."

He stood up Picked up his plate.

"Main baad mein khaata hoon nakshu mishu ko khila dena aaj please" he said.

And walked out The corridor Then a door Closed firmly. Not slammed. Just — shut.

Naira looked at the door. Then at Misha. Then at her rajma.

Nakshita very quietly got up and put more roti on Misha's plate.

Anil picked up his spoon and continued eating. Steady. Calm. Like the man who had just started something enormous and knew it and was completely at peace with that knowledge.

Abhudya picked up his roti again and held it out toward Misha this time.

She looked at her nephew... At this small person offering her bread with complete innocent generosity in the middle of everything.

She took it.

"Shukriya Abhu my babyy" she said softly.

He nodded seriously. Like he had done something important.

And went back to his dinner

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and that is chapter 3. 🤍

okay i am just going to be honest with you i don't know if anyone is reading this. i don't know if anyone felt anything. i don't know if this story is reaching anyone at all.

but if you are here — if you read till this point — i genuinely want to know what did you feel?

the breakfast scene?  misha and abhudya on that sunday morning?

which moment stayed with you? which character are you feeling the most right now?

just drop one word in the comments if nothing else  just one so i know you are there.

because i am pouring everything i have into this story  every scene every dialogue every small moment.

and it would mean the world to know someone is feeling it on the other side.

chapter 4 is coming soom and things are about to get very interesting.

see you there. 🤍

— your author