꧁・┆✦ʚ 𝚂𝚑𝚞𝚋𝚖𝚊𝚗'𝚜 ♡ 𝙿𝚘𝚟 ɞ✦ ┆・꧂

I was sitting in my room, minding my own business, when Mumma decided to go through my school bag. Really? Am I a kid? She never goes through Shahneel's bag or books, but here she was, flipping through mine.

Mumma frowned, holding up my Physics notebook. "Shubman, really? You've got the cricket team lineup in here?"

I shrugged. "I couldn't find any other notebook, Mumma. I just needed to jot it down quickly."

She raised an eyebrow and flipped through a few more pages. "Not a single page is complete. Why?"

I sighed. "I had rounds, Mumma," I said, hoping that would satisfy her.

She shook her head. "I don't know how the principal made you Head Boy."

Then she picked up my Chemistry notes, but before she could open it, I reached out. "It's fine, Mumma," I tried to say casually, but she was quicker, yanking the book away.

As she opened it, her expression changed from confusion to disbelief. The pages were filled with doodles, little sketches, and... FLAMES games.

"Seriously, Shubman?" Mumma looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Class 12 is a crucial year, and you're doodling and playing FLAMES in your Chemistry book?"

I looked down, feeling a bit embarrassed now that she'd caught me. And of course, that's when Papa entered the room, drawn by the commotion.

"Shubman," he said with a sigh, crossing his arms. "You have to take your studies seriously."

Here we go, I thought, as Papa continued, "You scored 70% in your boards in 10th. That's just not enough. Look at your younger sister, Shahneel—she scored 90% last year."

I knew exactly where this was headed. It always did. They wanted me to be like Shahneel, more focused, more dedicated. But that wasn't me. I'd already decided my path, and it didn't involve getting perfect marks.

Without another word, I turned and walked back to my room, closing the door behind me.

I slumped onto my bed, feeling a mix of frustration and guilt twisting inside me. It wasn't Shahneel's fault. She didn't ask to be the model student who could do no wrong. But every time Mumma and Papa compared us, it was like a spotlight was thrown on everything I wasn't.

Shahneel's knock on my door interrupted my thoughts. "Bhaiyya? Are you okay?"

I stayed silent, hoping she'd just go away, but she didn't. "Look, I know Mumma and Papa can be... a little intense about the studies thing. They just worry about you."

That was the last thing I wanted to hear. It felt like everyone around me was so caught up in academics, they couldn't understand what cricket meant to me. They couldn't see how much I was pouring into my game, my dream. But no, all that got washed away in the shadow of Shahneel's report card.

"Can you just... leave me alone, Shahneel?" I muttered, not looking up.

I could tell she was taken aback, probably not used to me brushing her off like this. Shahneel was my little sister, and she looked up to me, I knew that. But right now, I couldn't bear the sight of her.

"Bhaiyya..." She sounded hurt, but I didn't respond. After a long moment, I heard her footsteps retreating down the hallway.

As soon as she was gone, a pang of guilt hit me, sharper than I expected. But this time, I couldn't shake the feeling of resentment. For once, I just wanted to be enough on my own.

Later that night, I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, still stewing in my thoughts when there was a soft knock on my door. I ignored it, figuring it was Mumma or Papa. But when the door slowly creaked open, I saw it was Shahneel, standing there with her arms crossed, her eyes filled with determination.

"Bhaiyya, we need to talk," she said firmly, stepping inside before I could tell her to leave.

"I don't want to, Shahneel," I muttered, turning to face the wall.

But she didn't budge. Instead, she crossed the room and sat down on the edge of my bed, refusing to leave until I acknowledged her.

"Look, I know you're mad at me," she started. "But I can't just let you sit here thinking that you're not enough. I don't want us to be like this."

I remained silent, my jaw clenched. She kept pushing, desperate to make me talk, to break down the wall I'd put up.

"Fine. If you won't talk, I'll make you talk," she said, getting up and walking toward the door. I assumed she was giving up, finally leaving me in peace. But a few minutes later, I heard commotion in the kitchen, followed by the sound of Mumma and Papa's panicked voices.

I rushed out, only to find Shahneel standing in the kitchen, holding a knife to her hand, her face set with a mixture of frustration and desperation.

"Shah, what are you doing?!" I yelled, my heart pounding as I took in the scene.

Mumma was in tears, pleading with her. "Shanu, put that down, please!"

Papa, equally panicked, tried to inch closer, his hands held out in a calming gesture. "Shanu, sweetheart, baccha, listen to us. This isn't the way to fix things."

But her eyes remained locked on me, ignoring their words. "Shubman Bhaiyya, if you don't talk to me, if you keep shutting me out, I'll... I'll hurt myself."

I swallowed, the knot in my chest tightening as I slowly stepped forward. My mind was racing, torn between anger and guilt, but seeing her like this shook me to the core.

"Shah," I said softly, my voice almost a whisper. "You don't need to do this. Please, just... let me take that."

She looked at me, tears slipping down her cheeks, her grip on the knife loosening. I carefully reached out and gently took the knife from her hand, setting it aside before pulling her into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry, Shah," I whispered into her hair, feeling the weight of all the unspoken words between us. "I didn't mean to push you away. I'm just... tired of feeling like I don't measure up."

She clung to me, her shoulders shaking. "You're more than enough, Bhaiyya. You always have been. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise, not even Mumma or Papa."

Mumma and Papa joined us, their relief palpable as they wrapped their arms around us both, a family held together in a moment of raw emotion. It was then I realized that, even when things felt too heavy, we'd always have each other to pull us back.

After a long moment of silence, I finally pulled back, looking down at Shahneel, my relief quickly giving way to frustration.

"What were you thinking, Shah?" I asked, my voice rough. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? You could have really hurt yourself!"

She looked down, guilt written all over her face. "I didn't know what else to do, Bhaiyya. You weren't talking to me, and I... I couldn't stand it."

"That's no excuse, Shah," I snapped, the fear and anger boiling over. "We're family. You don't ever need to pull a stunt like that just to get my attention. You mean too much to me to risk yourself like that."

Shahneel sniffled, wiping her tears. "I'm sorry, Bhaiyya. I just didn't want you to hate me... I was scared you'd never forgive me."

I shook my head, exasperated. "Hate you? Shah, I could never hate you. You're my little sister. You just... I need you to understand that. Whatever happens, whatever dumb arguments we have, it's never worth hurting yourself, okay?"

She nodded, still looking down, and I could see how shaken she was by my words. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.

"Promise me, Shah," I said, my tone gentler now. "Promise me you'll never do anything like this again."

She met my eyes, her voice barely a whisper. "I promise, Bhaiyya. I'm really sorry."

I softened, pulling her into another hug, and Mumma and Papa joined in, relieved but clearly still shaken. We stayed like that for a while, the tension melting into a silent promise among us.

Family came first, no matter what. And from now on, I was determined to make sure Shahneel never doubted that.

Later that night, after everything had settled down, I found myself restless, the weight of the day still pressing on my mind. I grabbed my phone and dialed Arjun's number, needing to unload the chaos of the day.

"Hey, man," he answered, sounding sleepy but alert. "What's up?"

"Arjun, you won't believe the day I've had," I said, running a hand through my hair. "It's been one hell of a rollercoaster."

"Hit me with it," he said, now fully awake, his curiosity piqued.

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "So, it started with my parents going through my bag, and you know how they are—comparing me to Shahneel and all that. I just lost it. I'm tired of being held up against her."

"Yeah, I get that," Arjun replied, his tone understanding. "That must have sucked. But what did you do?"

"I just shut myself off from her. I didn't want to talk. I thought it was better to just keep my distance."

There was a pause on the other end, and I could almost see Arjun shaking his head. "Dude, that's not the solution. You know she looks up to you."

"I know, I know," I said, frustration creeping back into my voice. "But then things escalated. She ended up grabbing a knife in the kitchen, threatening to hurt herself just to get me to talk."

"Wait, what?" Arjun's voice shot up an octave. "Shubman, are you serious?"

"Yeah, I know it sounds crazy. Mumma and Papa freaked out, and I had to step in and take it from her. I was so scared, man. I thought I was going to lose her over a stupid argument."

"That's intense, dude. What happened after?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I scolded her, told her how dangerous it was. It was hard to see her like that, and I didn't want her to feel like she had to do something drastic to get my attention. We ended up hugging it out, but I just... I don't want to go through that again."

Arjun was silent for a moment, processing everything. "It's good you talked to her, man. You guys are siblings, and that bond is important. But you need to find a way to communicate without it getting to that point."

"Yeah, you're right," I sighed. "I just don't want to feel like I'm failing as a brother. I'm supposed to protect her, not make her feel this way."

"You're not failing, Shubman. It's tough being the older brother sometimes. Just keep talking, keep being there for her. That's all you can do," he reassured me.

"Thanks, Arjun. I really needed to get this off my chest," I said, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.

"No problem, man. Just keep me posted, okay? And if you ever need backup, you know I've got your back," he replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, bro," I said, hanging up the phone with a small smile.

As I set my phone down, I felt a bit lighter. I was still worried about Shahneel, but I knew I could face whatever came next. Family wasn't always easy, but it was worth fighting for.