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मइया तेरी मेरी एक जिंद जान है
तुझसे गवाही मेरी तू ही पहचान है
मइया तेरी मेरी एक जिंद जान है
तेरी मेरी ये प्रेम कहानी
जाने ये ज़माना जाने ये ज़माना
तेरी मेरी ये याद पुरानी
भूल ना जाना भूल ना जाना
हाथों पे लकीरें तेरी
होंठों पे दुआएं हैं
तेरा मेरा साथ रब्बा रहता उम्र
मइया तेरी मेरी एक जिंद जान है
तुझसे गवाही मेरी तू ही पहचान है
मइया तेरी मेरी एक जिंद जान है
_______________________
VOTE: 360+
COMMENTS: 380+
HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYSS…..THANKYOU FOR MAKING MY 2025 AMAIZING.
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It was a usual, lazy evening at Aditi’s house. The living room was wrapped in a soft orange glow as the sun dipped lower outside. Aditi was sprawled comfortably across the sofa, legs tucked under a blanket, a packet of chips resting on her stomach. One hand scrolled endlessly on her phone while the other popped chips into her mouth. Every few seconds, she’d burst into sudden laughter at something on her screen, completely lost in her own world.
Prateek came downstairs, noticed her state, and plopped down beside her with a tired sigh.
“Sunn na,” he nudged her lightly, but she didn’t even flinch, eyes glued to the phone.
“Sunn naaaa,” he tried again, this time shaking her shoulder with more force.
“Kyaa haiiii?” Aditi finally snapped, annoyed, pulling one earphone out.
“Maggie bana de na… bohot bhook lag rahi hai,” Prateek pleaded, voice dripping with desperation.
“Main nahi bana rahi. Pair thande ho jaayenge mere,” she refused flatly, adjusting the blanket.
“Bana de yaar, please… sach mein mann ho raha hai,” he tried again, folding his hands dramatically.
“Khud bana le jaa ke,” Aditi replied, eyes back on her phone.
“Nahiii… tu tasty banati hai,” he complimented sweetly, hoping to melt her.
“Chal chal, maska mat laga. Mujhe pata hai tere saare natak. Koi kaam nahi aayega,” she said knowingly, smirking. Prateek clicked his tongue in frustration.
Suddenly, an idea lit up his face. He quickly pulled out his phone, turned slightly away, and pretended to dial a number.
“Hello Ansh… haan haan, ghar aa raha hai tu? Achha achha… theek hai, aa jaa,” he said loudly enough for Aditi to hear. In an instant, Aditi’s scrolling stopped. Her head snapped up.
“Haan haan theek hai… dekh Aditi Maggie nahi bana rahi, to tujhe mere haath ki hi khani padegi. Madam bhaav kha rahi hai,” Prateek continued, putting on an overworked tone.
Aditi jumped up from the sofa immediately. “Pagal hai kya? Pehle kyun nahi bola vo bhi aa rahe hain!” she whispered angrily, eyes wide, hands flailing at Prateek.
“Kya? Bas 5 minute mein pahunch jaayega? Achha theek hai, tu ghar aa… main banata hoon,” Prateek continued his drama, nodding seriously.
Without another word, Aditi rushed into the kitchen, blanket forgotten, while Prateek burst into silent laughter. “Kitni bewakoof hai ye,” he whispered to himself, grinning proudly.
A few minutes later, Aditi came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel and nervously glancing at the door. “aa gaye kya?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“Haan, bas aata hi hoga,” Prateek replied, scrolling his phone like nothing happened. “Maggie ban gayi kya?” he asked innocently. Aditi nodded.
“To laa na phir,” he said, standing up eagerly and heading towards the kitchen.
“Arey saath mein khaayenge na! Aa jaane de unhe bhi,” Aditi said sternly, blocking his way.
Prateek froze… then slowly turned towards her with a mischievous grin. “Koi nahi aa raha. Main bas acting kar raha tha. Ansh ke naam se tu sab kaam kar legi na, isliye,” he confessed proudly. Aditi stared at him, stunned.
“Matlab… vo sab drama tha?” she asked, disbelief all over her face. Prateek nodded happily.
“KUTTTEEEEEEEE!” Aditi shrieked, her voice echoing through the house.
“Kitna ganda hai tu! Chhodungi nahi tujhe,” she yelled, grabbing her chappal and launching it at him.
“Arey sorry na! Aur kya karta main? Aur koi option bhi to nahi tha,” Prateek shouted, running for his life as he dodged the flying slipper.
“To tujhe yahi tareeka mila? Itna gira hua kaise ho sakta hai tu!” Aditi screamed, chasing him across the hall with another chappal raised.
Just then, the front door opened. “Kya hum galat time pe aa gaye hain?” Priya’s confused voice echoed.
She stood at the entrance with Ansh beside her, both frozen in shock at the chaos in front of them. Before either could react, Prateek sprinted straight behind Ansh, using him as a human shield.
“Bhai, bacha le apni wali se… maar daalegi mujhe ye,” Prateek whispered urgently into Ansh’s ear. Ansh gulped, eyes wide.
“Unke peeche kya soch ke chhupa hai tu? main tujhe pakad nahi paungi?” Aditi shouted, marching forward again.
This time even Ansh looked terrified, but Priya quickly stepped in, holding Aditi back. “Ruk ja Adu, chhod na… jaane de,” Priya said firmly, trying to calm her.
Meanwhile, Prateek peeked from behind Ansh’s shoulder, both boys equally scared.
“Tujhe pata bhi hai kitna bada kameena hai ye? Achha khaasa kambal mein baithi thi main… mujhe ullu bana ke Maggie banwa li isne,” Aditi complained furiously, pointing her chappal at Prateek.
Prateek ducked, hiding completely, making the chappal accidentally point straight at Ansh.
Ansh immediately raised his hands, eyes darting to Prateek. “maine kuch nahi kiya!” his expression screamed.
“Haan haan, koi na, ab bas… chal jaane de,” Priya soothed, gently pulling Aditi back toward the sofa.
“Bach gaya,” Prateek sighed in deep relief.
“Main bhi,” Ansh muttered unknowingly, wiping his forehead as the chaos finally settled.
The hall was now unusually quiet, the early war over maggie had settled down filled only with the soft rustle of pages and the scratching of pens. All four of them sat on the carpet, books spread around, cushions pulled close.
Prateek sat beside Priya, leaning over her notebook, while Ansh and Aditi occupied the other side, physics book open between them. It was one of those rare peaceful study evenings where everyone was genuinely trying.
Prateek frowned at Priya’s notebook and tapped his pen on a line.
“Priya, yeh calculation galat hai. Tumne decimal idhar shift kar diya,” he said patiently, rewriting the step for her.
“Achha? Ohh haan… main wahi soch rahi thi kuch to gadbad hai,” Priya replied sheepishly, correcting it.
“Dekho, aise karogi to answer seedha aa jayega,” he added, smiling when she nodded gratefully.
On the other side, Ansh held Aditi’s physics book steady while explaining calmly.
“Force ka direction hamesha displacement ke saath align nahi hota isha. Isliye yaha negative work ho raha hai,” he said softly.
“Ohhh… isliye mera answer match nahi kar raha tha,” Aditi murmured, eyes lighting up.
“Haan, ab dobara try karo,” Ansh encouraged, already revising his own notes alongside.
Just then, the sound of keys jingling and tired footsteps echoed from the entrance. The door opened, and Shweta and Amit stepped inside, exhaustion lining their faces but relief flickering in their eyes at the peaceful scene before them.
Ansh and Priya immediately straightened and greeted them with warm smiles, voices respectful and gentle.
Shweta smiled fondly at the sight of the kids studying together.
“Padhai chal rahi hai?” she asked softly, placing her bag aside as her tone carried a hint of pride and affection.
“Haan, mummy,” Aditi replied instantly, her voice sweet.
“Padho… padho,” Shweta said with a tired smile before heading toward her room to change.
Amit walked deeper into the hall and lowered himself onto the sofa, his presence instantly shifting the atmosphere – heavier, stricter, more defined.
“Aur sab badhiya chal raha hai school mein?” he asked, his tone casual but carrying an unspoken expectation.
“Haan, uncle… sab ikdam badhiya,” Priya replied politely, trying to sound confident.
Amit’s gaze slowly shifted toward Ansh, his voice becoming more direct.
“Tum batao Ansh… sab badhiya hai? NDA ki preparations… sab theek chal raha hai na?”
Ansh straightened slightly, offering a calm, reassuring smile. “Ji uncle… sab badhiya chal raha hai. Boards bhi aa rahe hain na, to thoda pressure hai… par manage ho jayega,” he said, voice respectful yet steady.
Amit nodded, still serious. “Forms kab out honge? Dhyaan rakhna… kahi bhool na jao.”
“Ji, uncle… bas December mein hi niklenge,” Ansh replied.
A faint “hmm… theek hai” left Amit’s lips and then his eyes turned toward Prateek.
His voice shifted. Firmer. Heavier. Expectant. “Tu bhi dhyaan rakhiyo, Prateek. Tujhe bhi bharna hai form. Documents jo lagenge… ready kar lena.”
Prateek’s fingers stiffened around his pen. His throat tightened. A shadow flickered across his face – fear, hesitation, conflict. He swallowed slowly.
“Papa… vo… main form nahi bharunga,” he said softly, voice trembling but honest. The air shattered.
Amit’s expression hardened instantly. “Kya!? Kya bola tune?” he asked, his voice sharp enough to slice through the silence.
Prateek raised his eyes, fear glistening in them, but for the first time… determination too. “Mujhe NDA join nahi karna papa,” he said, each word trembling yet controlled. “I… I won’t fill the form.” The warmth in the room disappeared replaced by cold tension.
Amit’s jaw tightened, anger rising in his voice. “Kyu? Kya problem hai? Kyu nahi karna tujhe NDA join?”
Prateek’s lips quivered, but he forced his voice out, pleading, desperate, raw. “Papa… I’m not interested in joining the army. Mujhe… mujhe khud ka ek startup kholna hai,” he said, his eyes glistening as he tried to explain.
Amit scoffed, disgust flooding his tone. “What nonsense! Yeh sab bakwaas cheeze kaun bhar raha hai tumhare dimaag mein, haan?”
Prateek flinched at his tone. Priya and Aditi exchanged a worried glance. Ansh’s gaze shifted toward Prateek concerned, silent.
“Papa… koi nahi bhar raha,” Prateek whispered weakly. “It’s my wish… I want to do MBA after school.”
Amit’s voice dropped lower colder, sharper. “Nahi. You’ll go to army. And that’s final.”
Prateek’s voice broke as he tried to reason. “Par kyu, papa? What’s wrong in it? Main… main waha khush nahi reh paunga…”
Shweta emerged from her room, brows furrowed in worry. “Kya ho gaya? Ab kis baat par chilla rahe hain aap?” she asked anxiously.
Amit pointed at Prateek, fury blazing in his eyes. “Dimag kharab ho gaya hai is ladke ka! Keh raha hai army nahi join karega – startup kholna hai!”
Aditi stepped forward, voice shaky but firm. “Bhaiya theek hi to keh raha hai, papa… jo cheez usse pasand nahi-“
“Tum chup raho Aditi!” Amit snapped harshly, his voice echoing through the hall. Aditi flinched, tears instantly filling her eyes.
Prateek’s voice trembled, pain tightening every word. “Isme itna bhi kya bura hai, papa? I’m just asking for a future jisme main excel kar sakun… jisme main khush reh sakun. Army mein… I can’t be happy.”
Amit’s tone grew colder almost merciless. “Tumhe pata bhi hai startup mein kitna risk hota hai? Stable income kaun ensure karega? Army join karoge to sarkari naukri hogi… future secure hoga.”
Prateek’s shoulders slumped his confidence cracking under the weight of his father’s words.
Ansh finally spoke, voice steady yet respectful. “Uncle… aap pehle hi kaise maan sakte hain ki he will fail? Woh successful bhi toh ho sakta hai.”
Amit turned sharply toward him. “Us cheez ki guarantee kaun dega?”
Prateek’s voice rose for the first time – broken but fierce. “And army mein… I’ll be happy uski guarantee kaun dega, papa?”
Amit’s tone twisted with humiliation and ego. “Tujhe sharam nahi aati? Army officer ka beta hoke bhi army join nahi karega? Log kya kahenge? Kaise baatein banayenge?”
Prateek’s tears finally fell. “Papa… chaar log kya bolte hain usse kya farak padta hai? It’s my life. Mujhe jo pasand hoga… main wahi karunga.”
Amit’s anger flared hotter. “Meri izzat ka kya? Main kya muh dikhaunga apni battalion mein jab log bolenge mere bete ne army join karne se mana kar diya?”
Prateek’s voice cracked but it grew stronger. “IT’S MY LIFE, PAPA!” he cried, his breath shaking. “Please… unn chaar logo ko mujhse door rakhiye. They don’t know me. Mujhe kya pasand hai… kya nahi. Please… let me live my life.”
Amit roared “Behave your tone, Prateek!”
But Prateek didn’t back down anymore.
“Nahi… aaj nahi papa,” he said, voice breaking yet burning. “Aap hamesha se aisa hi karte aaye ho. Expectations… pressure… comparison. Aapko sirf samaj aur logon ki parwah hai… hamari kabhi nahi.”
He choked – then whispered painfully.
“Isiliye… uss din Aditi ne bhi sab kuch nahi bataya. Isiliye Samaira dii ne bhi aapse bina pooche form fill kar diya university ka…”
Everyone froze.
Aditi rushed toward him, tears flowing. “Bhaiya… please, bas… chup ho ja” But Prateek wiped his tears – his voice turning hollow.
“nahi adu aaj nahi…” he whispered bitterly. “aaj inhe bhi pata lagna chahiye ki ye kitne bade faliure hai as our father.”
Amit’s rage exploded – his hand lifted in the air, trembling… ready to strike , But his wrist shook. His eyes turned glassy. Prateek flinched… but didn’t step back.
His voice came out shattered yet fearless. “Maar lijiye… ruk kyu gaye? Aaj bhi maar dijiye. Aise hi sabko chup karvate aaye ho aap…”
Then his voice dropped quiet… broken… final. “Par yaad rakhna… agar main kabhi army gaya na… us din se… main ye maan lunga… ki you never ever considered me as your son”
Silence crushed the room. Prateek turned away tears streaming and walked toward his room, footsteps echoing like falling glass.
“Prateek!” Ansh called, rushing after him.
Amit turned silently and walked into his room, his back heavy… defeated… cracked.
“Papa!” Aditi cried, running after him, sobbing.
“Beta… tu bhaiya ke paas ja,” Shweta whispered shakily to Aditi. “Inko… main dekh lungi.” as aditi nodded and ran upstairs followed by priya.
Aditi’s footsteps faltered as she reached the landing, her breathing shaky, tears already blurring her vision. Priya followed close behind, her own face pale and strained.
Outside Prateek’s room, Ansh stood rigidly by the door, his knuckles resting against the wood aching, helpless. He took a slow breath and knocked again and again, his voice low but filled with concern.
“Prateek… darwaza khol,” he said, trying to keep his tone steady, though worry threaded through every syllable.
There was no reply at first only the faint, muffled sound of uneven breathing from inside.
Aditi stepped forward, her hands trembling as she placed her palm on the door, pressing her forehead lightly against it as tears streamed freely down her cheeks.
“Bhaiya… darwaza khol please,” she cried softly, her voice breaking apart mid-sentence. Her words quivered every plea carrying years of love and fear and childhood memories.
From inside, Prateek’s voice came strained, choked, trembling with suppressed sobs.
“Leave me alone… please… mujhe kisi se baat nahi karni,” he said, his tone collapsing into raw pain.
Priya swallowed hard, her voice shaking as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand and leaned closer to the door. “Prateek… just listen to us na… bas ek baar,” she whispered, her voice gentle, desperately fragile. “We’re here… please…”
There was a deep silence. Then his voice came again louder this time, but cracked at the edges.
“Just… leave me alone!” he shouted.
But underneath that shout… they heard it the helpless sobs he was trying so hard to hide.
Aditi broke completely, her hands trembling harder as she continued knocking weakly. “Bhaiya… please… khol de na gate,” she pleaded, her words dissolving into hiccuped breaths. “Please… mujhe dar lag raha hai…”
Her tears hit the floor one after another. Priya placed a gentle hand on Aditi’s back, trying to steady her but she herself was struggling to breathe.
Ansh stepped closer and wrapped his arm around Aditi’s shoulders, pulling her into a firm, protective hold. His voice softened low, steady, aching with unspoken pain.
“Aditi… calm down… shhh,” he murmured, brushing her hair back carefully as if she might break any second. “Stop crying… he’ll be fine… I promise.”
But even as he said it his own throat tightened. Because seeing Aditi crumble like this…Something inside him fractured too.
He rested his chin lightly against the top of her head, eyes still fixed on the closed door – helplessness burning in his chest, fear sitting heavy in his heart, and the unbearable realization that he could protect her from everything…except this.
Priya wiped her cheeks with trembling fingers, her mind racing through the haze of panic. Then almost suddenly a thought struck her. Her eyes widened with a spark of urgency, and without saying a word, she turned and hurried down the corridor.
Ansh noticed instantly.
“Priya kaha ja rahi ho?” he asked, confusion flickering across his face as he followed her, Aditi stumbling after them with quick, uneven breaths. They entered Aditi’s room.
Priya didn’t stop for even a second she walked straight toward the balcony, pushing the curtains aside with shaking hands. The cold winter air brushed against her face as she leaned forward and glanced across.
Prateek’s balcony stood right beside separated only by a narrow gap, close enough for someone to cross with a careful step.
Priya turned back to them, breathless yet hopeful.
“Vo… gate nahi khol rahe,” she said, her voice trembling but determined. “So what if… humme se koi unki balcony se room mein enter karke gate khol de… to gate khul jayega.”
Her words carried desperation but also the faintest glimmer of a solution.
Aditi’s eyes instantly lit up through her tears, hope rushing in like air to drowning lungs.
“Haan… good idea… main jaati hoon,” she said, stepping forward without hesitation, already moving toward the railing her fear overshadowed by love for her brother.
But before she could take another step, a firm hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her back.
“Aditi are you mad?” Ansh’s voice came sharp, laced with alarm.
His eyes were wide fear flashing through them as he tightened his grip on her hand, pulling her away from the ledge. His other hand settled instinctively on her shoulder, steadying her.
“you are not going,” he said, his tone low but unwavering. “It’s dangerous. Kuch karne se pehle… apne baare mein to socho.”
Aditi looked up at him tears glistening, chest heaving but the worry etched on his face stopped her in place.
Priya swallowed, anxiety returning as she glanced between them and the balcony. Ansh took a breath, making his decision.
“I’ll go,” he said firmly. “Priya, hold her.”
Priya immediately moved beside Aditi, wrapping an arm around her as she continued to tremble.
Ansh removed his jacket in one swift motion, tossing it aside so he could move freely. He stepped toward the balcony edge, testing his footing carefully. The wind brushed past him, his heartbeat loud in his ears but his gaze remained steady.
For a brief second, he glanced back at Aditi. Her tear-filled eyes met his terrified, pleading, trusting. He gave a small, reassuring nod.
Then, with controlled balance and careful steps, he crossed the narrow gap between the two balconies – his movements cautious yet determined until he landed safely on Prateek’s side.
He steadied himself, exhaled slowly, then turned toward the girls and raised his hand in signal. A silent promise that he had reached.
And without wasting another second, Ansh slipped into Prateek’s room through the balcony door disappearing inside to face the storm alone.
Ansh stepped quietly into Prateek’s dimly lit room the air heavy, suffocating, and painfully still. The curtains were half-drawn, and the faint yellow light from the corridor spilled across the floor. His gaze fell instantly to the corner beside the bed.
Prateek sat collapsed on the floor, knees pulled tightly to his chest, chin buried against them. His shoulders trembled with silent, broken breaths the kind that came from holding too much inside for too long.
For a moment, Ansh’s heart clenched.
“Prateek…” he whispered and within seconds he was on his knees in front of him.
Prateek lifted his head slowly. His eyes were swollen, red… shocked to see him there.
“Tu… tu andar kaise aaya?” he asked, voice hoarse, disbelief and exhaustion tangled together as he tried to stand up.
Ansh caught his arm before he could move.
“Ek lagaaunga kaan ke neeche tere,” he said, voice firm but the tremor of worry beneath it was unmistakable. “Tujhe kya laga… tu gate nahi kholega to bach jayega mujhse?”
Prateek dropped his gaze again, lips trembling, unable to answer. Ansh’s chest tightened further.
“Samajhta kya hai tu apne aap ko?” he continued, breath uneven frustration born entirely out of fear. “Bas ‘leave me alone, leave me alone’ chilla raha tha… abhi hoon paas main to kadar kar meri. Door chala jaaunga ek din… phir rota rehna mere liye.”
His voice cracked at the end. He swallowed hard then spoke again, softer… but more intense.
“Pata hai bahar kya haal kar rakha hai Aditi ne apna?” he said quietly. “Ro-ro ke saans bura haal hai… aankhein poori laal ho chuki hain.”
Prateek’s fingers tightened into his sleeves guilt slicing through him.
“And Priya…” Ansh’s jaw clenched, emotion flooding his eyes. “Main jaan se maar dunga tujhe… agar usse fir se aise rulaaya to.”
His hand fisted into Prateek’s collar not in anger… but to stop him from slipping back into that darkness.
Their eyes met. And in that shared silence, every unspoken fear, every unshed tear… surfaced. Prateek’s mask shattered.
His lips trembled, and before he could stop himself his chest shook violently as raw, uncontrolled sobs burst out.
“Ansh…” his voice broke completely.
Ansh didn’t waste another second. He pulled him into a tight hug – arms locked around him – holding on as though anchoring him to reality.
“Shhh… chup ho jaa,” he whispered, his hand gently pressing the back of Prateek’s head. “Bas… … main hoon yahan.”
Prateek clutched his shirt desperately, burying his face into his shoulder.
“Papa… papa aisa kyun kar rahe hain?” he cried, his voice trembling with years of bottled-up pain. “Main itna bhi bura nahi hoon na…? Bas ek baar… apni marzi se jeena chahta hoon…”
Ansh closed his eyes for a moment absorbing the weight of every word. He slowly wiped Prateek’s tears with his thumbs.
“Sab theek hoga,” he said softly, steady and reassuring. “Tu tension mat le. Aaj nahi… to kal uncle samajh jayenge. Main hoon na main baat karunga unse.”
Prateek shook his head weakly.
“Vo… nahi manenge…” he whispered, voice cracking.
“Bina try kiye kaise keh diya tune?” Ansh asked gently but firmly a quiet strength in his tone.
“Par…” Prateek tried to speak again, doubt still clinging to him.
Ansh cut him off, tapping his cheek lightly half stern, half protective.
“Ek laga dunga sach mein agar aur negativity boli to,” he muttered, eyes soft but commanding. “Chup ekdam.”
A faint knock echoed from the other side of the door. Their breath stilled.
“Please… gate kholiye na…” Aditi’s voice trembled through the wood soaked in panic, each sob tugging at the heart. Priya’s muffled sniffles followed.
Ansh let out a slow breath and looked back at Prateek. His voice lowered gentler now.”Main gate khol raha hoon… aur ab agar phir se aisi nautanki ki, to is baar zor se lagaunga. Samjha?” But his eyes his eyes said I can’t lose you.
Prateek nodded faintly, still shaken… still fragile. Ansh squeezed his shoulder once grounding him then stood up and walked toward the door. With a soft click, he turned the latch and opened it.
The moment the door opened, Aditi rushed inside with unsteady, desperate steps as if every second she had spent outside had been choking her. Her eyes were swollen, her face pale, and her breaths were trembling as she looked straight at Prateek.
He stood there silently, eyes lowered, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders but before he could say anything, Aditi’s anger burst out through her tears.
“Samajhta kya hai tu apne aap ko!” she snapped, her voice shaking not out of rage, but fear and pain. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she stepped closer, lightly pushing his chest with trembling fists.
“Kahi ka hero hai tu… koi shooting chal rahi hai jo aisi harkat karega tu? Haan? Bol na!” she said again, each word breaking midway, her voice cracking as she hit his chest once more not to hurt him, but because she had been scared… terrified of losing him.
Prateek kept his gaze lowered, unable to meet her eyes shame and helplessness wrapped tightly around him.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered, voice barely audible like a child who had been caught doing something terribly wrong.Aditi’s tears flowed harder.
“Kya sorry, haan? Papa pe gussa tha na tu… to papa pe gussa nikaal na… mujhe aise pareshaan kyu karta hai tu…” her voice broke mid-sentence as her fists weakened against his chest.
She wasn’t angry anymore. She was shattered. Her lips trembled, breath hitching her voice turning soft, fragile.
“Tu bohot ganda hai… poora gadhaa hai… tu mera bhai nahi ho sakta… tujhe sach mein koodedaan se hi uthaya hoga…” she muttered, still hitting him lightly but now her hits felt more like helpless taps, her pain spilling through humor, through complaint, through pure emotional exhaustion.
A soft, broken chuckle escaped the others standing behind them relief gently seeping into the tense room.
Prateek finally lifted his hands and gently held her wrists his thumbs brushing away the tears on her cheeks as his own eyes glistened.
“Bas bhi kar… ab bohot ho gaya,” he whispered, his voice thick with tears and this time, he pulled her into a soft, protective hug.
Aditi’s body melted into the embrace instantly her forehead pressed against his shoulder as her sobs turned quieter, steadier, safer. For a few moments, it felt like time paused like the world outside didn’t exist.
When she finally broke the hug, she stepped back slowly wiping her face, her breaths growing calmer now. Prateek looked up and that’s when his eyes landed on Priya.
She was standing quietly in the corner.
Her hands were clasped together, chin trembling her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She hadn’t said a word – but her presence screamed concern… fear… relief.
And Ansh noticed. His gaze softened.
Without saying anything, he gently took Aditi’s hand his touch firm yet comforting silently guiding her toward the door.
“Bass… 10 minute de raha hoon,” he said in a stern tone as he glanced at Prateek, masking his own relief with attitude. “Zyada khush hone ki zaroorat nahi hai.”
He led Aditi out of the room and quietly closed the door behind them giving Prateek and Priya the moment they both desperately needed
The moment the door closed, Priya didn’t waste a single breath.
She rushed toward Prateek and crashed into him her arms wrapping around him desperately, almost fearfully as if she was terrified that if she loosened her grip even a little, he might disappear again. Prateek froze for a second and then his own control shattered.
His arms instinctively circled around her waist, pulling her closer… closer still… until there was no space left between them. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, his breath trembling softly against her skin as his fingers tightened around her.
They didn’t move. Didn’t speak. They just held each other – like two broken pieces finally finding their place. Their breaths synced. Their heartbeats steadied in each other’s presence.
Priya’s sobs shook against his chest while his grip trembled faintly not out of weakness, but out of overwhelming relief.
“Mujhe bohot dar lag raha tha… aap aise dobara kabhi mat karna please…” Priya whispered between her sobs, her voice breaking every few words.
Prateek’s throat tightened.
“I’m sorry Priya…” he murmured softly, his voice raw his chin brushing lightly against her shoulder as he held her closer, as if trying to absorb every tear she shed.
She slowly broke the hug but only just. Her hands moved up, gently cupping his face, thumbs brushing across his cheeks, tracing the faint tear marks.
His hands still rested loosely on her waist reluctant to let her go.
“Sahi marti hai Aditi aapko… bohot gande hain aap,” Priya mumbled with a small pout, her voice still shaky, yet filled with tenderness.
A faint smile tugged at Prateek’s lips.
“Ab jaisa bhi hoon… tumhara hi to hoon,” he said softly, gazing into her eyes eyes that still glistened with fear and love. Priya gently wiped his tears.
“Main bhi maarungi aapko… phir se aisa kuch kiya aapne to,” she said, her tone stern but her eyes were pleading.
“Nahi karunga… promise,” he whispered, wiping her tears in return his thumb lingering longer than needed.
He slowly took her hands in his lifted them with utmost care and pressed soft kisses to her palms. Then he guided them back to his cheeks, resting his face into her hands as if that was the only place he belonged.
“Aap tension mat lena… Uncle aapki baat zaroor manenge,” Priya said gently.
The moment she spoke of it his body stiffened. His eyes wavered.
“What if… vo nahi maane to…” he asked quietly, his voice soft… fragile… scared. Priya’s expression changed her eyes deepened with determination.
“Main hoon na… I’ll fight for you. Phir unhe maanna hi padega,” she said firmly.
Prateek blinked taken aback the corner of his lips curling faintly.
“Achha… aur vo tumhari baat kyun manenge?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.
“Unki future daughter-in-law jo hoon main,” Priya replied proudly, chin raised a little.
A soft chuckle escaped him.
“Kya… hass kyun rahe hain… dekhiye… I’m not doing timepass here… shaadi nahi karenge to pehle hi bata dijiye,” Priya said in mock defence, backing off slightly.
He gently pulled her back toward him.
“Pehle theek se badi to ho jao tum… tumhe pata bhi hai legal marriage age is 21 in India… and you are still 16 right now,” Prateek said, smiling.
“Nahi… I’ll turn 17 this December,” Priya replied proudly.
“Okay ma’am… as you say,” he murmured, and their foreheads came together, both of them smiling now, breaths mingling, the storm slowly settling.
Their smiles faded into something softer. They looked into each other’s eyes love, relief, and a quiet promise swirling between them. His gaze flickered to her lips for just a second before returning to her eyes, and a shy flush bloomed across her cheeks.
“Can we… share our first kiss Priya?” he asked softly, completely unsure, completely sincere.
She didn’t trust her voice, so she just nodded a small, shy, beautiful nod.
Prateek leaned in slowly, giving her enough time to step away if she wanted but she didn’t. Priya’s eyes fluttered shut, her fingers clutching the fabric of his hoodie as if anchoring herself to the moment.
He paused just a breath away, feeling the warmth of her exhale on his lips, and then he closed the remaining distance. Their lips met gently not rushed, not perfect, just soft and trembling with all the emotions they had been holding back.
It wasn’t a practiced kiss it was hesitant at first, then steadier, as they both relaxed into the closeness. There was nothing urgent about it, it was pure, warm, innocent, the kind of first kiss that felt less like fireworks and more like finally finding home.
Priya opened her eyes slowly afterward, breath unsteady, cheeks burning. She found him already looking at her, ears red, expression soft and awed. He cupped her face again and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” Priya replied, smiling through the remnants of her tears.
___________________
Outside the room, the corridor was quiet. Ansh was still gently holding Aditi’s hand as they stepped out, his thumb brushing softly across her knuckles as if grounding her in the present. Her lashes were still damp she wiped her face again, trying to steady herself before she looked up at him.
“I’ll just… go to Papa,” she whispered, her voice fragile, already turning to leave.
But his fingers tightened around her hand firm yet careful pulling her back with the lightest resistance. She turned, confused, her brows knitting slightly as she met his gaze.
“We need to talk Isha,” Ansh said softly, his tone low and calm, but layered with something deep… protective… unresolved.
“Boliye,” she replied, barely above a breath.
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he guided her gently inside her room, closing the door behind them with a muted click, creating a small world where only the two of them existed.
Aditi stood there, confused and a little tense, while Ansh watched her carefully every hesitation, every fragile breath. His voice came out quiet… deliberate.
“Is there something… about your past that I don’t know?” he asked. “Something I should know?” The question landed like a weight in the room.
Aditi’s body stiffened. Her eyes flickered away, searching the corners of the room as if trying to escape the memory pressing at her chest. Her breath grew shallow, uneven. The air around her seemed to tremble.
Her fingers tightened around his hand out of fear making him sense her emotions at an instant.
“Isha… look at me,” Ansh whispered gently.
He stepped closer and cupped her cheeks, his touch warm steady anchoring. Her hands instinctively rose to hold his wrists, as if she needed him to keep her from slipping away. Slowly, painfully, her eyes lifted to meet his. They glistened.
He saw fear. He saw pain. He saw years of silence she had never spoken about.
“Hey… it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice softer than the silence between them. “Calm down. You don’t have to tell me right now… or ever… not until you’re ready.” His thumb brushed away a tear that hadn’t yet fallen.
“Just remember… I’m here,” he whispered, every word heavy with truth. “Here with you. You don’t have to hide your scars from me. Whatever it is… you’re not alone anymore.”
Her lips trembled as the tension inside her finally broke.
Aditi moved forward slowly almost uncertain at first before she stepped into him completely, her forehead touching his chest. Her arms slipped around his torso, clinging to him as though he was the only solid thing in a world that kept shaking.
Her breathing faltered… then steadied.
Ansh wrapped his arms around her without hesitation, pulling her close, his hold protective and gentle at once. He pressed her closer to his heart, his hand moving slowly across her back, soothing the tremor in her shoulders.
He lowered his chin, resting it softly against her hair. For a moment, he simply held her breathing with her matching the rhythm of her heart to his.
Then, with quiet tenderness, he placed a gentle kiss on the crown of her head.
___________________
The school canteen buzzed with its usual afternoon chaos trays clattering, chairs scraping, bursts of laughter echoing from every corner. But at the corner table where their group always sat, the air felt strangely heavy… silent… tense.
Prateek sat beside Priya, eating slowly or at least pretending to. His jaw moved, but his eyes looked distant, heavier than usual. Priya kept stealing glances at him, her fingers brushing against his every now and then as if silently urging him to speak, to say something, anything.
Across the table, Aditi watched her brother with worry etched deep into her eyes. He hadn’t spoken to Amit or Shweta since last night. He hadn’t slept properly either she could tell from the redness in his eyes but here he was, wearing that hollow smile like armor.
And Ansh… he saw through it all.
He noticed the way Prateek’s shoulders didn’t relax even for a second. He noticed how Aditi’s fingers trembled under the table. Without saying a word, he reached out and gently wrapped his hand around hers. Aditi looked up, eyes glossy.
Ansh gave a soft reassuring squeeze “I’m here… he’ll be okay… we’ll handle it” his eyes spoke what his lips didn’t.
Meanwhile, Ruhaan, Shagun, Vivaan and Riva exchanged awkward glances, silently arguing with their eyes about who should start the conversation.
Ruhaan raised his brows at Vivaan. Vivaan widened his eyes back. Riva nudged Shagun lightly. Shagun glared” Don’t you dare put this on me.”
The silence finally broke.
“Tum sab aise ek dusre ko dekhna band karoge please?” Prateek said flatly, his voice tired too tired for someone his age.
Everyone instantly straightened up, pretending to look anywhere but at him.
“H-ham? Hum kaha kisiko dekh rahe hai? Dekh rahe hai kya?” Vivaan said dramatically, blinking innocently.
“Nahi to… hum kaha kisi ko dekh rahe hai,” Riva added, nodding way too fast.
Prateek let out a dry scoff.
“Bewakoof likha hua hai idhar kya?” he muttered sarcastically.
“Nahi… ullu,” Ruhaan supplied casually, not realizing until two seconds later what he’d said.
Prateek stared at him. Shagun smacked Ruhaan’s thigh under the table.
“OW-!” Ruhaan hissed.
“What are you saying!?” Shagun whispered sharply.
“Kya kiya maine? Maine kya bola?” Ruhaan defended himself in a hushed whisper, then looked away in defeat.
Priya leaned closer to Prateek, her voice soft. “Prateek… please… talk to us na.”
Before she could say more, Ansh spoke gently. “Prateek… dekh, tu tension mat le. Theek ho jayega sab. We’ll figure it out.”
“I’m fine,” Prateek replied instantly, too quickly.
Aditi’s lips trembled. She leaned forward. “Tu theek nahi hai, bhaiya… main papa se baat karungi. Tu tension mat le. Aur Samaira di bhi aa rahi hai aaj – we’ll both talk to-“
“I said I’m fine, Aditi!” Prateek snapped suddenly, his voice trembling at the edges. The table fell silent again.
Vivaan leaned toward Riva and whispered under his breath, “Jhoot bhi nahi bol pa rahe hai ye to…”
Riva sighed softly. “Inko aisa hi hota hai… jab bhi ye pareshaan hote hai.”
Prateek heard them. He shot them a look.
“Hogyi tumhari khusur-phusur?” he said sharply.
Both of them immediately sat straight. “Nahi- sorry,” Vivaan muttered.
An awkward moment passed before Ruhaan cleared his throat and spoke in his usual casual tone. “Abe chill na yaar… hum log hain na saath main. Kar lenge uncle ko convince.”
Prateek let out a humorless laugh. “Pata nahi kin ko samjha raha hoon main bhi,” he muttered under his breath, pushing his chair back. He stood up.
“Prateek-” Priya called softly.
But he was already walking away. Her heart dropped. Ansh looked at her and nodded gently.
“Tu ja… uske paas reh,” he said quietly. Priya didn’t waste a second. She stood up and followed him out of the canteen.
The table grew even quieter.
Vivaan leaned forward, voice low now. “Matter… zyada serious hai kya?” Aditi swallowed and nodded slowly.
Vivaan’s expression shifted, the playfulness draining from his face. “Oh…”
Riva placed her hand on Aditi’s shoulder gently.
“Ansh bhaiya… aap try karna na,” she said softly. “Vo toh aapko bohot maante hain. Aapki baat zaroor manenge.”
Ansh hesitated for a moment then nodded. “I’ll talk to Uncle,” he said firmly.
Aditi’s voice trembled as she spoke. “Agar aaj Samaira didi ke aane ke baad bhi papa nahi maane… toh pata nahi kya hi hoga. She’s the only one who can handle papa well…”
Vivaan leaned closer, his tone unusually serious. “Tu pareshaan mat ho, Aditi… hum sab hain na. We’ll find a way. Pakka.”
Everyone nodded together.
___________________
It was the last period of school, and the corridors had grown dull and sleepy under the weight of closing lectures except for one student who almost never stayed in his class at this hour.
Vivaan wandered lazily along the corridor, hands in pockets, humming to himself as he walked under the excuse of going to the washroom his classic escape ritual. Every few steps, he peeked into different classrooms just to avoid actually returning to his own.
As he passed the long glass window overlooking the playground, the sound of laughter and whistles drifted up from below. His eyes automatically shifted toward the ground.
“inka games period hota hai last… they’re so lucky,” he muttered to himself with annoyance, watching students running and cheering freely while he was meant to be stuck in a boring lecture.
His brows narrowed.
“But meri phoolan devi kaha hai?” he murmured, curiosity sparking instantly.
His gaze began scanning across the playground the basketball court, the grass patches, the water stand, the bench near the boundary. And then he spotted Riva.
She stood near the volleyball net, hair tied up loosely, her face glowing with laughter under the sun. But she wasn’t alone.
A boy was walking beside her talking animatedly, gesturing wildly with his hands while Riva giggled at almost everything he said. They walked side-by-side across the court, occasionally bumping shoulders, and Riva didn’t seem bothered in fact, she looked… happy.
Vivaan’s expression darkened immediately.
“Ye kya ho raha hai…?” he muttered, leaning closer to the railing to get a clearer look. “Aur ye chachundar ka chacha kaun hai?”
The boy picked up a ball, tossed it up playfully, and Riva laughed again too freely for Vivaan’s liking.
His jaw tightened. He squinted harder, trying to recognize the guy junior? senior? team boy? but from this distance, he still couldn’t place him.
A flicker of irritation and something else burned inside his chest. Before he could lean further, a firm voice sounded behind him.
“Vivaan.”
He stiffened. His eyes widened slightly before he slowly turned around.
“Haan, bhaiya,” he replied instantly – face innocent, posture straight, as if he had been doing nothing wrong at all.
Ansh crossed his arms, expression stern. “Yaha kya kar raha hai? Class nahi chal rahi teri?”
Vivaan cleared his throat awkward smile plastered across his face.
“Nahi bhaiya… bas… ja hi raha hoon,” he said quickly, already stepping away.
Before Ansh’s Head Boy mode could activate fully Vivaan bolted.
—————
By evening, the atmosphere inside the house felt nothing like the noisy school corridors. The hall was unusually quiet.
Amit sat on the sofa, phone in his hand, his brows furrowed in deep thought. The ticking of the wall clock sounded louder than usual every second echoing through the tense silence.
On the opposite couch, Aditi and Samaira sat side-by-side, exchanging unsure glances – both silently urging the other to begin.
Amit finally looked up.
“Kya baat hai?” he asked, his tone serious, the kind that warned them he already sensed something was coming.
Samaira took a slow breath before speaking softly.
“Umm… vo papa… main keh rahi thi… Prateek ko karne dete hai na MBA,” she said, her voice carefully polite, eyes hopeful. Amit’s gaze sharpened.
Aditi leaned forward instantly to support her.
“Haan papa… please na. Bhaiya ka mann hai karne ka,” she added gently, her voice trembling slightly. Amit’s jaw tightened.
“He’ll join the army. Only army,” he said firmly. “No further discussion.”The words dropped into the room like a heavy stone.
Samaira swallowed, trying again this time more emotionally.
“But papa… please. Aap ek baar uske dreams ko bhi to dekhiye na. Vo kya banna chahta hai. Beta hai vo aapka… uski bhi to khushi matter karti hai.”
Amit’s voice hardened. “Beta hai vo mera isiliye uski khushi se zyada uski success matter karti hai mere liye.”
Aditi’s eyes filled instantly. “Par papa… aisi success ka kya jisme bhaiya khush hi na rahe?” she said softly, her voice cracking mid-sentence.
Amit looked away. “Tum log kuch nahi samajhte,” he said curtly.
“And you don’t understand anything about us papa,” Samaira replied quietly pain surfacing in her tone. Her voice trembled, but she didn’t stop.
“Aap kyun hamesha apni marzi hi chalate hain? Please… usse karne dijiye na jo vo karna chahta hai. If he fails, at least vo ye to nahi bolega ki use chance nahi mila… ya uski kisi ne suni nahi.”
Aditi moved closer, tears finally spilling. “Papa… please. Ek baar bhaiya pe trust karke dekhiye. He won’t disappoint you, papa.”
Her voice broke. “Please…”
Samaira also stepped nearer, her voice soft and pleading. “Let him do what he wants… sirf ek baar.”
Amit didn’t respond. His expression flickered, anger… pride… fear… disappointment all clashing silently inside his eyes.
Aditi took one desperate step closer.
“If you want papa… I’ll join the army,” she said suddenly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’ll leave medical. Phir aapke friends bhi kuch nahi bol paayenge.”
The shock in Amit’s face was instant. He stared at her stunned that his stubborn, outspoken daughter had just said that… for her brother.
His lips parted but words refused to come out. After a long moment, he whispered almost instinctively…
“Nahi. Tum army join nahi karogi.”
And then he stood abruptly. Without another word, Amit turned and walked inside his room, shutting the door behind him.
Shweta hurried after him, equally worried. The hall fell painfully silent again. Aditi stood frozen for a second then broke.
She collapsed forward, tears spilling uncontrollably. Samaira caught her immediately, wrapping her arms around her.
“Shhh… chup… bilkul chup,” Samaira whispered, holding her tightly, gently stroking her hair as tears rolled down her own cheeks too.
___________________
Amit was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders heavy and his head bowed, fingers loosely resting beside him as though all strength had quietly drained from his body. The room was dim, the night light filtering weakly through the curtains, casting soft shadows on the floor. The silence around him felt dense the kind that presses on the chest and makes every breath feel louder than it should.
Shweta entered the room after finishing her kitchen work, wiping her hands on the end of her dupatta. The moment her eyes fell on Amit, she paused. His posture said everything his words hadn’t the slump of his back, the tremor in his stillness, the way his chest rose shallowly with guilt-laden breaths. Without saying anything, she walked slowly toward him and sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed.
For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Only the ticking of the wall clock filled the room.
“Kya soch rahe hain?” Shweta finally asked softly, her voice gentle, not accusing just warm, just present. Amit swallowed hard, his throat tight. His eyes remained fixed on the floor.
“Did I… really fail as a father?” His voice cracked fragile, unsure, as if the question itself hurt.
Shweta inhaled slowly. She didn’t flinch away from the truth.
“Sach bolu to… haan,” she answered honestly, yet her tone was kind not harsh, not blaming, just real.
Amit’s lips parted slightly. The words hit him deep, and for a second, his gaze wavered. He looked at her with broken helplessness the look of a man who had always believed discipline equaled care, strictness equaled protection.
“But main toh sirf unhe successful dekhna chahta hoon,” he said, struggling to hold his composure. “Bas… wahi chaha maine hamesha.” Shweta placed her hand gently on his shoulder, her touch warm and steady.
“Aapke intentions hamesha sahi rahe hain,” she said softly, “par aapka tareeka… thoda old school hai. Aur hamare zamane aur unke zamane ke beech ka farq… ab kaafi bada ho chuka hai.”
She smiled faintly, not mockingly fondly, with understanding.
“Aaj ke bachche humse alag sochte hain. Hum unhe purane tareekon se baandh ke nahi rakh sakte. Humein thoda-thoda unke saath chalna padega.”
Amit’s chest tightened. His eyes glistened. Shweta continued, her voice steady yet emotional.
“Hamare bachhe bewakoof nahi hain. Itne to samajhdaar hain ki apna rasta khud chun sakte hain. Zaroorat bas itni hai… ki jab kabhi vo gir jayein… aur peeche mud ke dekhein… toh ham waha khade ho. Unke saath. Unhe hausla dene ke liye.”
Amit exhaled shakily, a faint smile trembling on his lips as tears clouded his eyes.
“I know… Prateek bohot honhaar hai,” he whispered. “Uske jaisa sehansheel bachha maine kabhi nahi dekha. Main kitna bhi daantun, kitna bhi taane maarun… vo chup-chaap sab seh leta tha.”
He paused his voice breaking.
“Par kal… kal laga jaise vo kisi kaid mein hai, Shweta. Jaise… usse saans hi nahi mil rahi.” His fingers curled slightly as guilt washed over him.
” iss umar mein… bachchon ko aisa hi lagta hai,” Shweta replied gently. “Jab unki baat na suni jaye… jab unke sapno ko ignore kar diya jaye.”
Amit closed his eyes. Images flashed in his mind Prateek’s quiet smile, the hidden tension in his eyes, the weight he carried silently.
“And Aditi…” he murmured, his voice filled with pain. “Pata nahi kis kis haalaton se guzri hai wo… aur wo keh rahi thi ki vo army join kar legi… sirf uski jagah.” His lips trembled into a weak smile.
“woh ladti-jhagarti si bachi… apna sab kuch sacrifice karne ko ready thi….sirf apne bhaii ke liye jisse aaj tak usne kabhi pyaar se baat nhi ki”
Shweta shook her head with a soft, emotional smile.
“Kya karein… dono kutte-billi ki tarah ladte hain,” she said fondly, “lekin ek doosre ke liye… kuch bhi karne ko tayaar hain.”
Amit stared ahead blankly, fear creeping back into his voice. “Agar Prateek fail ho gaya toh? Ye business… startups… investors… sab bohot unstable hota hai. Kaise sambhalega vo itna sab?”
Shweta squeezed his shoulder firmly. “Agar aap usse apne se bandh kar rakhoge,” she said calmly, “toh vo duniya kaise dekhega? Kaise seekhega?”
Her voice softened. “Aur agar fail bhi hua… toh kya hua? Gir ke uthega. Dubara mehnat karega. Duniya tabhi samajh aayegi jab usse jeene diya jayega.”
Amit’s eyes finally welled over. Tears slipped silently down his cheeks. He didn’t sob. He just… broke quietly.
Like a man who finally realized his love had been wrapped in chains instead of warmth. He nodded slowly, breathing unsteadily as he stared at the floor.
___________________
Breakfast at the Mishra dining table felt unusually silent the kind of silence that weighed in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Samaira’s packed bag rested near the doorway; she had to leave that morning, and the thought already hung over the house like a quiet ache.
Aditi sat with her head lowered, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her plate, a sense of defeat lingering in her eyes. Across from her, Prateek ate silently, expression stiff, avoiding everyone’s gaze as though even eye contact might cause everything to crumble again. The warmth that usually filled their breakfast table was nowhere to be found today.
Shweta walked in from the kitchen carrying another plate of hot sandwiches, the steam rising softly from them. Without a word, she placed a few more on Prateek’s plate a habit she hadn’t been able to break since he was a child.
“Maa… bas, aur nahi khaunga,” Prateek said quietly, his voice dull and tired.
Before Shweta could respond, Amit’s voice echoed calmly from the hall. “Kha le… hostel jayega toh aisa khana nahi milega.”
He was sitting on the sofa, newspaper open in his hands, glasses slightly lowered on his nose. His tone was casual but his words made both Aditi and Prateek freeze.
Aditi’s head snapped up, eyes widening. “Hostel?” she asked, confused.
Amit folded the newspaper and placed it aside, his expression steady yet softer than usual.
“Haan… ab Bangalore jayenge mahashay MBA ke liye. Toh hostel mein rehna padega na. Aur hostel ka khana bhi bhala khana hota hai koi?” he said, half-teasing, half-serious.
Prateek stared at him disbelief flooding through his chest. His heart began pounding. Aditi turned fully toward him, her voice trembling with hope.
“Matlab… bhaiya army mein nahi jayega?” she asked, almost breathless.
Amit glanced at her and nodded lightly. “Ab jab mann nahi hai… toh bhej ke kya karenge?” he said simply.
The words felt unreal like something Prateek had dreamt of hearing but never thought he actually would.
“Matlab… I’ll be doing MBA, papa?” Prateek asked slowly, still afraid it might vanish if he blinked.
Amit raised his brows.
“Kyun? Kuch aur karne ka plan hai?” he replied in mock warning. “Dekh… baar-baar plan change karega toh bohot maarunga. Ek cheez pakad.”
His teasing tone the familiar one they all missed broke the last bit of restraint inside Prateek.
His eyes filled instantly as he got up from his chair and rushed toward Amit, dropping down beside him and wrapping his arms tightly around him.
“Thank you… papa,” he whispered voice shaking, tears escaping freely.
Aditi couldn’t hold herself back. She jumped up from her chair and hurried to them, eyes shining as she hugged Amit from the side.
“Thank you so much, papa,” she said softly, her voice breaking with relief.
Amit lifted his hand and gently placed it on both their heads, blinking rapidly to hold back his own tears.
“Chalo… bohot ho gaya,” he said, clearing his throat. “Ab late ho jaoge school ke liye.”
Prateek pulled back slightly, wiping his eyes, his voice still emotional. “I won’t disappoint you, papa… pakka. Promise.”
Amit looked at him with warmth and guilt intertwined. “I know, beta… aur I’m sorry. Jo bhi kuch maine teri marzi ke khilaf kiya.”
Prateek immediately shook his head, refusing to let him apologize further. Amit then turned to Aditi.
“Aur tu… kya bhoot sawaar hai tere upar army join karne ka?” he said, half-annoyed, half-affectionate. “Chup-chaap se medical kar. Nahi jayegi tu koi army mein.”
Aditi’s lips curved into a wide smile, eyes sparkling with relief. Prateek looked at her in surprise.
“Tu meri jagah jaane wali thi army mein?” he asked.
“Haan toh?” Aditi replied proudly. “Main nahi ja sakti kya? Itni bhi kamzor nahi hoon main.”
Prateek leaned forward “Haan haan… woh toh pata hai, pagal” he teased squising her cheeks annoying her.
“Papa!” Aditi complained instantly.
Amit glared at Prateek again. “Kyun pareshan kar raha hai? Dunga ek rakh abhi tujhe,” he said though his smile betrayed the affection beneath the scolding.
Shweta stepped forward, wiping the corner of her eyes quietly before anyone noticed. “Chalo… jao ab. Bhaago school,” she said gently.
Prateek and Aditi picked up their bags, still smiling lighter than they had felt in days.
____________________
Evening shadows stretched long across the quiet street as Shagun and Ruhaan walked side by side, returning from the academy like they did every day. The sky was washed in warm orange and fading pink, the cool breeze brushing past them while distant traffic hummed along the main road. Their conversation flowed easily full of laughter, bickering, and the comfort of familiarity.
“Kal ke match mein bohot maza aayega… tum bilkul achhe se khelna. St. Mary’s ki dhaajiyaan uda dena,” Shagun said with bubbling excitement, hands moving animatedly as she spoke.
“Theek hai baba, uda dunga,” Ruhaan chuckled, gently placing his hand at her back to guide her away from the vehicles speeding past the roadside. “Pehle tum seedha chalo.”
Shagun scoffed. “Arey, main toh bolti hoon….vo jo Henry hai na, usko ek bhi goal mat karne dena. Saade hue baingan jaisa muh ban jayega uska.”
Ruhaan laughed, shaking his head. “Theek hai. Aur jab jeet jaaunga na… toh tum mujhe wapas se kiss kar lena. Phir woh Disha aur zyada chil jayegi.”
“Haan na! Tum bas match jeetna, usko main handle karungi…. itna jalungi….itna jalungi ki woh—” She stopped mid-sentence.
Her smile faded. Her steps halted. Her heart dropped.
Standing at the gate of her house, briefcase in hand, stern expression in place, was Suresh.
“Papa…” she whispered, voice shrinking into herself.
Ruhaan followed her gaze and stiffened slightly. This was the first time he had ever seen him imposing, composed, distant. Suresh’s eyes moved from his daughter… to the boy beside her.
“What are you doing out here Shagun?” His tone was firm curious, but edged with suspicion.
Shagun’s throat tightened. “Vo… papa…”
Before her hesitation could betray her, Ruhaan stepped a little forward calm, respectful.
“Namaste, uncle,” he said politely. “Main Ruhaan. Her senior and friend from school. Vo Exams aa rahe hain na, so she needed help with some subjects. We were just studying together.”
His confidence was steady. His smile was sincere. Suresh observed him for a few seconds… then nodded.
“Get inside. It’s cold outside.”
Shagun glanced once at Ruhaan he gave her a small, assuring nod. She went inside without another word.
Ruhaan turned to leave. “Ok, uncle. Main chalta hoon.”
“Wait, Ruhaan,” Suresh said suddenly. “I need to talk to you.”
The streetlight flickered above them, casting faint shadows across the road. Ruhaan kept his posture straight, his voice composed, though he could feel the weight of the moment.
“So…” Suresh asked quietly. “Shagun ke sirf dost ho tum?”
“Ji, uncle,” Ruhaan replied gently. “We’re friends.”
“And… koi dost nahi hai uska?” His voice carried something deeper curiosity, concern… guilt.
“Nahi uncle, aisa nahi hai,” Ruhaan said at once. “Hamari poori gang hai. She has Aditi, Priya, Riva and Vivaan in her class… and me, Ansh and Prateek as her seniors. Aur do log aur Samaira didi and Aman bhaiya. Sab milke… hamara chhota sa gang hai.”
Suresh huffed a faint breath. “That’s too big to call chhota gang.”
Ruhaan smiled awkwardly. “Ji… bol sakte hain.” A pause settled.
“I guess she’s happy with you all? right?” Suresh asked softer this time.
“Ji, uncle,” Ruhaan answered honestly. “She’s… happy with us.”
Suresh’s gaze drifted forward not at the road, but somewhere far beyond.
“I’m mostly out of the city… or country,” he said quietly. “Work keeps me away. I barely come home… barely talk to her. Aur jab ghar hota hoon… she never comes out of her room. I don’t even remember the last time I saw her smiling… laughing… like she was today.” His voice trembled… not visibly but enough for Ruhaan to hear the ache beneath it.
“I feel like… I’ve lost my daughter somewhere in the past,” he whispered.
For a moment, the silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was heavy.
Ruhaan spoke gently not as a child speaking to an elder… but as someone who understood. “Maybe uncle… she has everything. But not that one place jahan woh home jaisa feel kare,” he said softly. “Bricks and fancy things don’t give happiness… feeling loved does.”
Suresh swallowed.
“If she doesn’t talk to you… maybe you should talk to her first,” Ruhaan continued. “And trust me… she doesn’t hate you. She’s just… distant… because she thinks she’ll be ignored. Or called annoying.”
“You’re right, beta,” he said after a pause. “I’ll try. And… thank you. For taking care of her.”
Ruhaan smiled faintly. “Ek aur baat, uncle… gifts ke badle… thoda sa time dijiye. I’m sure… she’ll start opening up.”
Suresh nodded this time with sincerity. “I’ll try my best. Thank you Ruhaan.”
He signaled to the driver. “Rajesh, drop him home.”
Ruhaan shook his head lightly. “Nahi uncle. Ghar paas hi hai. Main chala jaunga.”
“Alright, beta. Careful.”
Ruhaan nodded and walked away down the dimly lit lane the wind gently brushing his hair, his thoughts lingering on Shagun.
Suresh remained standing for a moment.
Her laughter from earlier replayed in his mind bright… free… something he hadn’t heard in years.
“it’s been a decade i saw her like that” he murmured.
His chest tightened regret pressing quietly against his heart.
“Can I really bring back my little princess…?” he whispered to himself. Then he turned… and walked back toward the house
________________
The late evening market buzzed with color and noise bright fairy lights strung across stalls, the smell of frying pakoras and spiced tea drifting through the air, vendors calling out prices over the hum of conversations.
Vivaan walked beside Kriti, his arms loaded with shopping bags, his expression bordering on dramatic despair. She moved ahead with quick, purposeful steps, stopping every few seconds to peer at displays in the shop windows.
“maa, please, bass bhi karo… are you planning to test my will to live?” Vivaan groaned, dragging his feet.
“thoda sa aur bss…ye dekh ye sweatshirts achii lgegi na Ansh pe?” she asked excitedly, holding up a gray hoodie against the light.
“ha ha boht achhi lgegi, amazing, fantastic, ab ghar chale?” he replied without even glancing properly, voice flat and tired.
“main pack karva ke ati hu. Wait here,” she said, vanishing into the counter area.
Vivaan sighed and let his gaze wander lazily around the market over fairy lights, rushing crowds, laughing children until his eyes abruptly stopped.
Riva.
She was across the street, walking slowly between stalls, her hair bouncing lightly at her shoulders. And she wasn’t alone. A boy walked beside her, leaning close as they talked, both of them laughing at something only they shared. The guy’s arm brushed against hers now and then, and she didn’t move away.
Vivaan’s jaw tightened, a strange heat curling inside his chest sharp, restless, possessive. His relaxed posture vanished.
“ye to same wahi chachundar ka chacha hai,” he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing.
Kriti appeared with the packet. “Okay, all done. ab chalte hain”
“aap ghar jao maa, I just saw a friend. I’ll be back later,” he said quickly, thrusting the bags into her hands before she could respond, already backing away.
“Vivaan ” she called, but he was gone.
He slipped into the crowd, keeping a short distance behind Riva and the boy as they walked. He watched every casual touch, every shared grin. The sound of her laugh the one he always teased her about now scraped uncomfortably at him. His fists curled unconsciously.
Who is he?
They stopped at a small street stall glowing under a yellow bulb, steam from hot tea curling up into the cool air. The boy excused himself to take a call, stepping aside and leaving Riva alone.
Vivaan didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, appearing beside her so suddenly that she almost jumped.
“ye chachundar kar chacha kon hai tumhare sath ab?” he asked, voice low and edged, eyes still following where the boy had gone.
Riva clutched her chest. “Oh God, Vivaan! You scared me.”
“usse chodo. Answer me. Who is he?” he pressed, not bothering to soften his tone.
“That is none of your business,” she replied, brows knitting.
“It becomes my business when you are involved,” he shot back. “I’ve never seen him before. Who is he?”
Before Riva could respond, the boy returned, smiling easily.
“Oh, you’re Vivaan, right?” he said, pointing lightly.
Vivaan blinked. “You know me?”
“Of course. She keeps talking about you all the time,” he laughed. “Saying you’re the chuha of the group.”
Riva’s eyes widened in horror as she tried to hide her face with her hands. Vivaan turned slowly toward her, disbelief mixing with reluctant amusement and something warmer beneath.
“bohot hi badhiya introduce karvati ho tum,” he murmured.
He stuck out his hand anyway. “Hi. I’m Vivaan…her best friend. Who are you?”
“Best… friend?” Riva repeated under her breath, staring at him.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Shivank, her classmate,” the boy said.
Vivaan’s gaze sharpened. “So what are you both doing here?”
“We were bored and decided to hang out,” Shivank answered, suddenly less confident under Vivaan’s stare.
“Let’s just eat, okay?” Riva said quickly, trying to smooth the tension. “bhook lag rhi hai”
“I’ll place the order. Be right back,” Shivank said, escaping toward the counter.
The moment he left, Riva whirled toward Vivaan. “What are you doing? tum usse dara kyu rhe hoo?”
“main dara kaha raha hu usse…I’m just checking if he’s decent,” Vivaan replied calmly, though his eyes were anything but calm. “aise hi thodi na kisi ke sath jaane de sakta hu main tumhe.”
“I’m not a kid, Vivaan. And he is a good guy. Stop intimidating him,” she said firmly.
“How do you know he’s good? Guys like him act sweet, take advantage of girls who are too kind, and then disappear when it suits them, main bata raha hoon he’s just there to take advantage from you” he said, his voice tight with an emotion he didn’t want to name.
“He’s my friend,” she insisted gently. “That’s all.”
He leaned in slightly, his voice quieter now. “And if he wants to be something more?”
She held his gaze, unflinching. “That’s still my choice.”
Shivank returned with two cups of steaming tea and a plate of hot noodles. “The order’s here. Want anything else?”
“No, this is perfect. Thank you,” Riva said with a soft smile.
Vivaan muttered under his breath, “Maybe bring detergent so I can wash your brain.”
Shivank blinked. “Sorry, what?”
“kuch nahii,” Riva said quickly, shooting Vivaan a warning look. “Ignore him.”
“tum thodi der shant nhi reh sakte kya?” she whispered through clenched teeth.
“chup hi to hoon,” he muttered back, though his eyes never left Shivank.
Riva laughed awkwardly and took the cup between her hands, but she could feel it—the intensity of Vivaan’s stare, the way he shifted closer to her without realizing it, as if placing himself between her and the world. Shivank kept trying to start casual conversation, but Vivaan’s presence lingered like a silent storm.
___________________________
The last-period lethargy had wrapped the classroom like a warm, sleepy blanket. Ceiling fans hummed lazily, stirring the heavy afternoon air while the chemistry teacher’s voice droned rhythmically, lulling half the class toward dreams.
Priya and Shagun sat ahead, their backs straight but eyelids drooping, exchanging sleepy glances as they tried not to doze off.
Behind them, Aditi had long surrendered. Resting her cheek on folded arms, she slipped into sleep with a small sigh, her breaths evening out, lashes resting like soft shadows on her cheeks.
“Ma’am idhar aaye toh jaga dena,” she had mumbled to Shagun and Priya before drifting off, and Shagun had simply nodded, smiling at her best friend’s predictable surrender.
A few minutes later, the door creaked open and Ansh stepped in, talking quietly to the teacher. His eyes instinctively swept the class, searching for one particular face and then he saw her. Head down, hair spilling across her arm, completely lost to the world. A small, helpless smile tugged at his lips before he could stop it.
The teacher handed him some notebooks. “Just do these modifications and give them back.”
“You can do it here only,” she added. “Your free period is right now, isn’t it?”
He nodded. Before he could choose a seat, Shagun subtly acted to cough lightly, deliberately gaining his attention towards the vacant seat beside Aditi. She tilted her chin toward it for half a second. He understood.
He walked over quietly and sat down beside Aditi. For a moment, he didn’t even open the notebook. He just looked at her the way a tiny crease appeared between her brows when something in her dream annoyed her, the way a faint smile curved her lips again the next second. Light filtered through the window and settled softly across her hair, making the sleepy stillness around her feel even more fragile.
“I wish I could see your dreams,” he murmured under his breath, voice barely a whisper. “So I could fulfill them.”
He bent his head and finally began writing but his focus kept slipping toward the sleeping girl beside him. Every small movement of hers tugged at his attention.
Meanwhile, the teacher started moving down the aisle and Shagun panicked. She leaned back and shook Aditi’s arm. “Uth ja, Adu,” she hissed.
“Sone de…” Aditi muttered, refusing to move.
aditi…” shagun pressed further.
“Bhaad mein ja,” she added irritably, still half-asleep.
Before Shagun could try again, Ansh gently nudged Aditi’s arm, not saying a word, just trying to wake her.
What happened next stunned him completely.
Still lost in dreams, Aditi caught his hand, pulled it closer, and slid it beneath her cheek. His palm became her pillow as she cuddled into it with utter innocence, murmuring, “Bas paanch minute… meri shaadi hone wali hai…”
Every thought in Ansh’s mind stopped.
His heartbeat shot up. The tips of his ears went red. Her warm cheek rested against his palm, her breath feather-light across his skin, and he didn’t even dare breathe too loudly in fear of waking her. His other hand froze midair, notebook forgotten.
Then Aditi frowned slightly in her sleep. “Tere haath itne bade kaise ho gaye, Shagun?” she whispered, confused.
He swallowed, voice low. “Kyunki yeh mere haath hain.”
Her lashes fluttered. The familiarity of his voice sank slowly into her drowsy brain. She opened her eyes sluggishly and the moment her gaze collided with his, she shot upright as if electricity had jolted through her.
“Mammy!” she yelped.
The whole class turned. Ansh blinked in shock too.
The teacher narrowed her eyes. “Is everything fine Aditi?”
“Ye.. yes, ma’am,” Aditi stammered, heart thundering. “Just… uh… there was a cockroach on my desk.”
“Is it still there?” teacher asked.
“Nahi, bhaag gaya,” she replied instantly.
The class snickered softly. The teacher went back to the board.
Priya twisted in her seat and whispered, barely controlling her laughter, “Haww… bhaiya ko cockroach bola tune, Aditi!”
Shagun slapped a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
Aditi glared. “Chup reh. Kaam kar apna.”
Ansh leaned slightly closer, voice low, playful hurt mixing with embarrassment still lingering in his eyes. “Sahi toh bola usne. You called me cockroach.”
She stared at the desk. “Haan toh… aap aise achanak aa jayenge toh main toh yahi bolungi na…”
He tilted his head, smirk tugging at his lips. “Theek hai. Toh shaadi kis se kar rahi thi sapne mein? Cockroach se ya…” He left the sentence hanging deliberately.
Her eyes went wide. Heat climbed from her neck to her cheeks, flushing them deep pink. She covered half her face with her hands and turned away, mortified.
“Bolo,” he said softly, enjoying every second of her burning embarrassment.
“Please… chidhaiye mat mujhe,” she muttered, voice small, eyes refusing to meet his.
“Ohh, toh tum mujhe cockroach bolo aur main tumhe chidhau bhi na?” he teased, raising a brow.
She opened her mouth to argue but the bell rang.
Relief flooded her face. “Jaiye, jaiye… jaldi jaiye. Ma’am bula rahi hain aapko,” she blurted, desperate to escape.
He chuckled, unable to resist, and gently squished her right cheek between his fingers before getting up. Her heart did a somersault. He walked away, still smiling.
The moment he left, Shagun and Priya spun around.
“So, cockroach ki girlfriend,” Shagun grinned. “shadi hui ki nahii?”
Aditi smacked her arm weakly, burying her burning face in her hands again. “Chup raho, yaar…”
Her heart was still pounding not from embarrassment alone, but from the undeniable warmth that still lingered on her cheek where his hand had been moments ago.
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thats all for this chapter…hope you enjoyed it.☺️✨
please do vote and comment down your thoughts.🥹
milte hain next chapter main naye saal ke sath very soon…🫶
lots of love♥️
~Prachi💌
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