Garima opened the door, surprised and delighted. "Arree, Arnav Bitwa?" she exclaimed upon seeing Arnav standing in front of her.

("Oh, is that you, Arnav?")

Arnav greeted her with a warm smile. "Aunty," he said respectfully, and as Garima invited him inside, he explained the purpose of his visit. "Mumma told me to give this to you, Aunty."

They settled on the sofa beside Buaji, who was so engrossed in her movie that the world around her seemed to fade away.

With a smile, Garima accepted the box from Arnav and opened it to find Gajar ka Halwa.

She sighed, shaking her head. "Arrey, Gajar ka Halwa," she murmured.

(Oh, carrot pudding,)

This exchange had become a routine. She had sent Sunnunda(a sweet dish) to Ratna the day before, and now Ratna had sent Gajar ka Halwa in return. They enjoyed experimenting with dishes and recipes, sending each other boxes filled with their culinary creations.

As Garima went to store the box in the fridge, Arnav's attention was drawn to the TV. He rolled his eyes at the over-the-top drama unfolding on the screen and began to look around, searching for his sweethearts.

Suddenly, a loud voice pierced the air.

"Arnavvvvv!!" Khushi screamed from behind, causing him to wince and cover his ears.

Aah! So much for wanting to spend some time with his sweethearts. Arnav sighed, his 'hope of spending a quiet moment with his sweethearts' dashed. He took a deep breath and turned to face Khushi.

"Arnavvvvv," she yelled again as she approached him, her voice loud enough to wake the dead, yet Buaji didn't even flinch, completely absorbed in her film.

"What?" Arnav asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Khushi scolded him, her hands slapping his face with a bundle of notes. "What kind of handwriting do you have?" she demanded.

Arnav removed the notes from his face, his teeth gritted in annoyance. "You're insulting my handwriting?" he asked incredulously.

"Aur nahi toh kya, is this your handwriting or mosquitos ki baarat?" Khushi retorted, her cute anger on full display.

(Of course, I am! Is this your handwriting or a procession of mosquitoes?)

"What? Baarat?" Arnav was baffled.

(What? A procession?)

"Yes! Even the chemist couldn't find out what you've written in these notes," Khushi pouted, her annoyance quickly returning.

Arnav's eyes widened in disbelief. "You went to the chemist?" he asked, shocked.

"Aur nahi toh kya, aisa kheede makheedon ke baarat waale handwriting sirf doctor ya chemist hi toh samaj paayenge," Khushi continued to mock his handwriting.

(What else could I do? Only a doctor or chemist could understand this scribble that looks like a procession of insects)

"Unbelievable," Arnav muttered under his breath, astounded by her audacity.

She retorted with annoyance palpable on her face, "Oyee, Angrezz. Unbelievable ka mantra baad me. Pehle mujhe ye samjaho. Kal mera test hai."

(Hey, Mr. Englishman. Save your 'unbelievable' mantra for later. First, explain this to me. I have a test tomorrow.)

His response was tinged with frustration, "Toh pehle kyu nahi aayi?"

(Then why didn't you come earlier?)

She was quick to defend herself, "Tum the kaha ghar pe? Isliye soch soch ke chemist ke paas gayi hu mein. Pata hai kitni mehnat ki hai mene? You can never understand."

( Were you even at home? That's why I've been racking my brain and then went to the chemist. Do you know how hard I've worked? You can never understand.)

With a roll of his eyes, Arnav questioned her priorities, "Ab padna nahi hai test ke liye?"

(So, you don't want to study for the test now?)

Khushi's eyes grew round with realisation, and her mouth formed a perfect 'O'. In a playful rebuke, Arnav gently tapped the top of her head, muttering a 'pagal' under his breath, prompting a pout from Khushi. She then took his hand, her forehead still smarting from the tap, and with a speed of rajdhani express, she dragged the poor boy to her bedroom.

Well, at least, he found his peace in her bedroom.

His sweethearts! He got to spend some time with them while she was busy setting up the messy study table.

They are so adorable. It was better he said this in his head and not aloud. Khushi would have turned green, for, she is very possessive of her pookies — Beebo and Saibo!

The first he tried to play with the little fishes, Khushi glared at him in such a manner that he expected her to grab a shovel and start digging his final resting place right then and there. Yet, her scowl didn't deter him one bit. Instead, he continued to dote on the fishes and made them his sweethearts, riling her up.

"Meri hai vo. They are mine!!" she said, pushing him away from her lovely fishes.

"Sure, they're yours, but just look at them, they've fallen head over fins for me!" he retorted with a chuckle, pointing towards Saibo and Beebo who were looking in his direction as if he's, their food. Khushi flared her nose as he gently nudged her petite frame aside and resumed his play with his newfound sweethearts, his bombastic eyes on a fuming little possessive girl.

A riled-up Khushi who is also possessive is kind of a combination that's fun to watch.

——————————————

Sheesh Mahal,

A week had passed, and the Sunday morning sun cast a warm glow over the balcony where Avinash sat, his coffee untouched, his mind a whirlpool of thoughts. Samaya, his wife, had returned to Sheesh Mahal just the day before with their son, Daruk. He had succeeded in bringing her back home. However, he couldn't gather evidence for his innocence.

The other woman in the picture is still in the picture — Vaidehi. Her presence lingered like a specter; her name a constant reminder of the turmoil he and his wife are in. Avinash had sought the truth behind her pregnancy, half-expecting a ploy woven by Subadhra Mallik. But reality struck with the weight of certainty — Vaidehi was indeed expecting.

He wanted a DNA test as well. But it was a waiting game, the doctor advising patience until the third month. Vaidehi was merely five weeks along then. Samaya wasn't ready to come back. Her trust was broken but in his eyes, it was a fortress he hadn't broken yet. He had managed to convey the unjust accusations that were put on him, as he did before, pleading for time to unveil the truth. But she had no ears. It was only after an arduous four weeks that she consented to return, offering him a ray of hope — a chance to clear his name.

In a matter of weeks, Vaidehi would reach the 13th week of her pregnancy, and the doors to a DNA test would open. It will prove his innocence.

His reverie was broken by a familiar voice, "Hi, Uncle."

Avinash lifted his eyes, the fog of contemplation clearing as he acknowledged their guest. A smile found its way to his lips as he greeted warmly, "Good Morning, beta."

Their exchange continued through the realms of business and deals until one of the servants called them for breakfast.

It's been an hour since the breakfast has finished. Arnav and Dhruv are walking down the hall ready to go out to see Khushi and play with her. But their stride slowed as they caught sight of Rohit, the new guest, engaged in a light-hearted exchange with their sister Anjali.

Arnav's brows furrowed, a shadow of annoyance crossing his features. "Di, are you coming or not?" His voice, louder than the speaker, echoed in the hall, scaring the poor birds resting in the balcony of their hall.

It was not just the birds though. Anjali too jerked with her brother's shout and so did Rohit.

"Remember, we are to play at Khushi's house? She must be waiting for us." Arnav glared at her and before he could add another word, Dhruv chimed in, his tone light, a chuckle escaping him, "And if we get late, she will come running here and bite our ears off."

Dhruv's laughter was an attempt to diffuse the tension, but he couldn't help wondering about his little brother, Arnav's evident dislike for Rohit, who had done nothing but be a guest in their home.

Anjali, recovering from the initial shock, offered Rohit a quick, somewhat strained smile and excused herself, moving to join her brothers.

The trio was set to depart when Rohit, with the innocence of a lamb, inquired from behind, "If you don't mind, can I join?"

Arnav, with a raised eyebrow sharp enough to slice through steel, retorted, "You are a kid? I am so sorry I thought you said you are 23." His words carried nothing but a clear dismissal.

Anjali rolled her eyes at her brother's behaviour, before replying to their guest, "Actually, Rohit. We are going to play, you'll feel like an odd one out."

It was then that Aravind Mallik made his entrance into the hall, his voice booming like thunder, "What is the need for you to play, Anjali? Is it an age? Let Chotte play and you just stay at home." His words were a decree meant to bind Anjali to the confines of their home; now that his plans were something else for her.

The fury that ignited in Arnav was palpable, Dhruv mentally facepalmed at the unfolding drama, and Anjali's spirits dropped. The twinkle in her eyes is gone in a second at her father's words. She is only 16. Why can't she play?

"Dad, she isn't 80 yet that she needs to sit home and do nothing. She is coming with me and playing like everytime she does. You can't stop us." Arnav declared, his teeth gritted in defiance as he stormed out of the hall dragging his sister. Dhruv followed them silently.

Rohit, left behind with Aravind, offered a placating smile, "It's okay, uncle. They are kids, let them play."

But Arvind didn't calm down. He made his face neutral in front of Rohit, however. He doesn't like his son's rebellious nature and especially if that's going to affect his business. And the way he behaved with him and Rohit will definitely affect his business. What if Rohit felt humiliated? He shouldn't. He must not! He'll have to be content with the Mallik Family. After all, Rohit Ahuja was destined to join the family as his son-in-law. He's just waiting for Anjali to turn 18.

——————————————

As she stepped out of the study, the weight of Arvind's revelations about the hall incident hung heavy in the air. Her heart simmered with discontent towards her grandson, whose recent antics had been nothing short of disappointing. Not to forget, his silence towards her. He didn't break his promise yet, standing on his words. Whenever she initiated a conversation, she got only silence in return or indirect words about her pending apologies. Arvind's berates fell on deaf ears; Arnav's stubbornness was like a wall that would never break except through a simple sorry that doesn't exist in Subadhra's world.

She has to do something to get her grandson on the right track. For now, ensuring the comfort of Rohit Ahuja in their home is more important.

"Ratna," Subadhra's voice echoed sternly through the room as she made her way to her daughter-in-law's room.

Ratna paused as she sat on her bed, the knitting needles in her hands stilling as she lifted her gaze. Her mother-in-law's silhouette framed the doorway.

With a soft smile, she responded, "Ji, Ma-ji."

Subadhra's eyes held a hint of inquiry. "I trust you're considering Rohit's likes and dislikes in all matters?"

Again, Ratna affirmed, "Ji, Ma-ji."

Even the food they are cooking has his favourites in their menu these days.

A wave of Satisfaction washed over Subadhra's features, yet it was quickly overshadowed by a frown as she recalled Arnav's insolence.

"Keep your son in control and tell him to behave well with Rohit."

Without lingering for a response, Subadhra retreated to her sanctuary, her room.

Ratna let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, her eyes trailing her mother-in-law's departing figure. It had only been a week since Subadhra returned from her business trip, not alone but accompanied by Rohit Ahuja.

Rohit, barely 23, stood on the threshold of adulthood, was just beginning to wrap his fingers around the reins of the Ahuja empire, overtaking the responsibilities of his father, Ranveer Ahuja — Ranveer, a business acquaintance of her husband. 

Regards,

Poly,

04/07/2024