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Authors POV

The entire house became aware to their arrival when the door burst open with a loud thud as they got at the doorstep. 

Trisha and her siblings got inside in a tumble of backpacks and limbs. In perfect odd unison, bags flew through the air, books were lying around all over the place and shoes fell across the floor.

"Mummy! Hum ghar aa gaye!" Trisha's breathless, high-pitched voice heard. Without bothering to place them in the right place, she kicked off her shoes, which caused them to skid across the floor.

"Mummyyy!" Her shout followed by Nirvan's, that was louder and more dramatic. One of his shoes then flew wildly and landed against the wall.

"Nirvan, Kutte! Are you not able to keep your shoes in one spot?" As his bag went past her, Trisha shouted and turned down just in time to avoid being hit.
With an excessive sigh, she thrown herself onto the couch. In the midst of the chaos, her schoolbag was forgotten and left near the door.

Vritika, called out calmly from the other side of the room, "Mummy! I'm going to freshen up," she said while stepping gently toward her room.
Kashvi, their mother, peeked out from the kitchen, her hands still moving carefully even as she mixed the curry which was bubbling with a spoon in one hand. "Arey! Aa gaye tum log?" Her voice was calm and warm. "We'll eat when you quickly freshen up."

"Theek hai, Mummy!" was the chorus of replies, with the voices of the siblings perfectly aligned.

Meanwhile, Nirvan noticed his cricket bat casually leaning in the corner of the living room. His eyes lit up with joy. 

Still in his wrinkled school uniform, he reached for it and grabbed the handle. He started swinging it with dramatic flair.

Trisha lay across the couch, tugging lazily at her hair tie. She squinted at him. "Oye! Lag jaayegi! Mat kar, bat side mein rakh de, Beta!" she warned, her voice sharp. Her eyes narrowed at the dangerous arc of the bat.

Nirvan's grin grew wider. "Arey! Nahi lagegi, bol raha hoon na, nahi lagegi! Chill karo!" he replied, swinging the bat closer while ignoring his sister's warning.

Trisha's fingers twitched with impatience. She wanted to snatch the bat away before something bad happened. "Aur beta, agar meri lag gyi na... then you're gone!" she threatened, raising her voice dramatically as she pointed at him.

"Arey nahi lagegi! Experience hai mujhe!" Nirvan boasted, flipping the bat with the pride of a seasoned cricketer. He remained unfazed by Trisha's warnings.

"Nahi maan raha na? Ruk jaa, batati hoon abhi!" Trisha huffed as she scrambled to sit upright. 

She yelled toward the kitchen, "Mummy! Look, Nirvan is swinging the bat in front of my face!"

Kashvi's voice came back. "Nirvan! Put the bat down! And both of you go freshen up! I am just going to serve the food!"

Nirvan dropped the bat. Without another word, he and Trisha rushed to their rooms.

__________________

The three siblings sat around the dining table a few minutes later. Their stomachs screamed in eagerness as the room scented with the comforting aroma of steaming chawal, simmering dal, and spiced aloo-gobhi.
Nirvan stuffed his cheeks and leaned back into the chair. "Didi! "Aaj school me kitni garmi thi yaar!" he said, his voice sounding with added frustration across the small room.

Trisha paused mid-chew. Just hearing the word "school" yanked her out of the cozy kitchen and straight into a memory she couldn't shake.

It came back in full color, the chaos of two girls brawling, shoving each other like they meant it. And then, Mahin came in view.

He didn't rush. He didn't stepped in, and the fight started to unravel. His eyes stayed serious.

Trisha felt her cheeks heat up. She tried to play it cool, but the blush gave her away.

Nirvan, just kept shoveling dal-chawal into his mouth. Vritika, though, caught it right away. She smirked, gave Nirvan a nudge under the table, and shot him a look that said, "Did you see that?" without saying a word.

"Arey Didi! Kya hua?" With an innocent smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, Nirvan leaned in closer.
Trisha's dream abruptly cut off as she blinked instantly. "Oh, nothing!" She quickly stuffed a big bite of rice into her mouth to cover her nervous face and said, "Leave it, tell me what happened at school?"

Nirvan used the back of his hand to wipe the taste from his lips and shrugged his shoulders. "Bas... normal." the word slipped out softly. 

Vritika's eyes narrowed, as she moved the corners of her mouth. 

Nirvan struggled under her fixed gaze as she looked forward slightly. "Tu itna laal kyun ho raha hai?" she asked in a playful way, each word poking at him.
A drop of curry slipped back into the bowl when the spoon stopped in mid-air. Nirvan's voice split with forced innocence as his face tightened. "Main? Laal? Kab?"

The sisters stayed unaffected. Their constant, flat looks were fixed on him.
He let off a long, dramatic and heavy sigh before he eased in the chair. "Okay, kuch hua hai." His words were softer than he was expecting.

Leaning closer, she put her hand to her chin. "Kya huaaa? Bata na!" she exclaimed.

He rubbed the back of the neck with his fingers. He muttered, looking at the unfinished meal in front of him, "School mein... ek nayi kudi aayi hai."
Both girls showed him a look.

"Acha?" Vritika tilted her head and said casually. "Naam kya hai madam ka?" she added, tapping on the rim of her glass. 

He spoke too quickly, "Vanya." His throat got itchy and he began to cough. "I mean, yaa... just Vanya."

There was not a doubt about the glow in her eyes as she leaned closer. "Vanya! Cute name!" She exclaimed.
Nirvan's shoulders rose and fell with careful style as he shrugged once again. His eyes went to the window as he said, "Haan... theek hi hai," in a soft voice.

Before she could control it, Vritika's curiosity burst into a scream in her voice as she leaned forward. "Aur? Aur? Aage bata!"
With a sigh he ran a palm across his face. "Arre yaar, zyada kuch nahi! It's been two weeks since she joined." His tone grew softer. "Woh bohot shaant hai. Innocent. Seedhi. Zyada nahi bolti. Hamesha book khol ke baithi rehti hai."

Trisha nodded and leaned forward, her eyes narrowing in thought. "Topper type?" she guessed.

"Haan!" was Nirvan's first response. "Topper thi pichhle school mein. First bench pe baithti hai," he said, smiling unevenly as he pointed a thumb behind him. "Aur main... last bench."

With his arms up in response, he said, "I try to talk with her, okay?" Kabhi joke bol deta hoon, kabhi pen gira deta hoon... but woh ek baar bhi nahi dekhti." His hands shot up in frustration. "Ignore maarti hai, Bilkul."

Vritika sighed, and before she could stop it, she burst out laughing. "Nirvan, perhaps she doesn't even know about you." she joked.

"Oh pata hai," was his quick reply. His gaze remained fixed on the table as he continued, "Bas... dhyaan nahi deti."

Trisha asked in a bright tone, "So ab kya?" she smiled and tilted her head. "Roz pen girayega?"
After giving it some thought, Nirvan slowly shook his head as his tongue snapped against his teeth, he said, "Nahi. Ab nahi." adding, "Main ab peeche nahi padne wala, Agar baat hogi, toh hogi. Warna... theek hai."

A faint smile pulled at the sisters' lips as they looked at each other.
The quiet around him spread as he glanced down at his hands. His voice was low. "Maybe I should not wait for her to take her eyes off her books. She will one day. And we'll see when she does."

At last, Trisha's voice changed, as she tilted her head and spoke gently, "But just tell us one thing... you like her, right?"
With a long groan, Nirvan hid his face in his hands. "Aaaaah please! Khana toh shanti se khaane do!" he said with annoyance in his voice.

Vritika looked at her brother with calm happiness while grinning. "Ladka gaya humara," She said casually.
Nirvan breathed out an easy sigh as he lowered his head until it made contact with the table while his sisters looked at him with enjoyment.

With eyes full of mischief, Trisha turned to Vritika and smiled too sweetly to be comforting. 

Her voice flowed with mock seriousness as she nudged her sister's shoulder. "So, madam topper," she mockingly asked, "aaj tera school kaisa tha?"
Vritika poked at her food with deliberate lack of interest, her gaze not leaving it. "Same as ever," she said in an uncaring voice. 

There was a pause, then with the tiniest lip twist she added. "Thanks to that Mashaan."

The clink of dishes disappeared as the siblings stopped in mid-bite. 

Nirvan's head raised first. With both of her eyebrows lifting in perfect unison, Trisha leaned in close to him. "Is it about Kiaan?" The words came out at once.

Vritika's jaw clenched, and she let out a annoyed breath. "It's clearly about him. Aur kaun ho sakta hai jo mera din kharaab kare?" she said.

Trisha bit her lip, but a smile came through anyway, before she could hold it back. She angled her head at Vritika. "What's he done now?" she asked, gently making fun of her.

The spoon struck the plate loudly, giving away how little patience she had left. "Aaj toh limit cross kar di," Vritika said quietly.

Nirvan moved nearer, propping his arms on the table. "Tell us the whole story," he urged.

She took a deep inhale before she started. "Toh suno. I was running on the ground because we had PE class. It was a normal warm-up run. And I accidentally bumped into him."

Trisha was already starting to smile.

"And guess what? He fell." Vritika's gaze sharpened. "Aur itna jor ka toh dhakka laga bhi nahi tha, jitni jor se woh gira."

"But," Vritika went on, "I apologized. Immediately. Properly." Her fingers tightened around the spoon. "'Sorry, Kiaan.'"

Trisha blinked as her spoon paused mid-air. "YOU apologized?" she repeated.

Nirvan almost choked, his spoon clattering against the plate as he looked up sharply. "Kyaaa? You said sorry to him?!" His eyebrows arched high. "Being our sister. Being a Khanna sibling. You said sorry to him?"

His palm struck the table with deliberate force. "How can you do this, Vritika Khanna? Puchta hai Bharat! India wants to know!" he said in high pitch.

"Ouch!" The cry escaped before he could stop it. 

Nirvan winced, massaging the reddened skin with a rueful shake of his head. "Josh-josh mein zyada zor se lag gayi yaar."

"Ha. Kyunki I'm decent," Vritika snapped. 

She tossed her hair back with a huff as she added, "Uske jaise nahi, who bumped into me on the first day of school and didn't even apologize." Her voice rose. "Ulta tumhe bole ki 'it's not your fault, mere charm ke aage aksar larkiyan andhi ho jaati hai'."

"Kaunsa charm? Kaisa charm?" Vritika's brows knitting together as she shook her head slowly. "Charm ka 'ch' nahi hai uss bande me." she said.

"Ek toh patani inn school walo ke kya chull machi hui thi joh inhone section badal diye," Vritika muttered in frustration. "And then on top of that, they sent my best friend to another section." Her shoulders slumped. 

"Aur itne se bhi mann nahi bhara inka toh inhone... alag-alag class ke namoone... mere class me hi daal diye." With her hands waving in vain, she made an expression of exaggerated sadness.

Her irritation rose. "Sabse bada toh Mashaan hai," Vritika said. "You know, even after I apologized, he started fighting with me!"

"He said-" Vritika's voice faltered for a moment before she straightened. 

She mimicked him flawlessly. "'Can't you see? Are you blind? Dekh kar chala kar, Tauntika Kahin ki!'"

"I said SORRY! But noooo. Mashaan couldn't handle one small push," Vritika muttered before she pressed her lips together in frustation.

Trisha unable to help herself already started laughing.

Vritika glared as she snapped, "He wouldn't stop! He kept arguing, saying I did it purposely."

Nirvan frowned with exaggerated seriousness, leaning forward. "Wait. So both of you fell on the ground?"

"NO!" Vritika snapped with shooting him a glare.

"But you fell on top of him?" he pressed, eyebrows waggling.

"NAHI!" she barked.

"Ohhh... but tum dono TOUCH toh hue honge..." With an evil smile, Nirvan dragged out each word.

Trisha rolled her eyes and elbowed him hard. "Stop making it weird!"

"Arey! You guys haven't eaten yet?"

Their mother, Kashvi, poked her head out from the kitchen, a spoon in hand, shaking her head. "Jaldi khao, phir thoda rest karna, aur shaam ko homework bhi karna hai!" she ordered.

"Abey! Haan yaar, homework bhi toh hai!" Nirvan threw his head back dramatically, eyes squeezed shut.

"How can anyone give homework?" He flopped onto his chair with a groan. His arms sprawled across the tabletop.

Trisha rolled her eyes, leaning over to give him a playful nudge. "Arey hote hain kuch teachers jinke chull hoti hai. They just cannot see the kids happy. Take my maths teacher for example, he didn't even wait for us to settle down. He started teaching as soon as he entered!"

She flung her hands up before imitating her teacher's tone perfectly. "'Bas! I am your maths teacher, everyone calls me Tripathi Sir. I don't like noise in class at all. All the children will bring their chemistry books and notebooks every day, and during my period no one will drink water, no one will go to the washroom!'"

Trisha shook her head. "I mean, if there's anything else left, tell me that too, there won't be as many rules in our school rulebook as T.T made."

Nirvan's eyes went wide, mouth slightly open. "T.T?" he asked.

"Abey, haa!" Trisha laughed, leaning back in her chair. "The whole class has named him 'T.T!' because in his class, nothing is true unless Theorem Tripathi proves it himself.!" She chuckled.

_____________________

A single glance passed between the three siblings. It was the kind of look born of habit, of countless nights spent together. And just like that, the decision was made, TV time.

But there was a complication.

Mummy was asleep.

And in that fragile silence, the house itself seemed to hold its breath. A cough, a thud, even the faintest squeak of a footstep could awake her.

They tiptoed toward the living room.

Nirvan's excitement broke through his careful tiptoeing. He reached the television and his finger poised above the power button.

The television flickered awake as its shifting colors spilling across Nirvan's face.

Meanwhile, Vritika moved swiftly into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and the door swinging wide without a sound. Her fingers curled around a Fanta bottle.

Balancing three glasses in one hand, Vritika moved with deliberate care. The faint clink of glass seemed louder in the hush of the house.

Trisha, sank into the couch with a flourish, the remote nestled firmly in her grip and a sly grin curved her lips.

Just as Nirvan turned around... "Oye! Remote idhar do, samjhi? It's my turn!" he hissed in a loud whisper while trying to snatch the remote.

Trisha leaned back instantly, hiding the remote behind her back with lightning speed. "Acha! So you don't watch TV at night? In our turn?" she shot back.

"Kahan dekhta hoon?" Nirvan protested arms flailing slightly. "Dekhne deti ho aap dono? As soon as I pick up the remote, you both snatch it from me!" He lunged again, fingers stretching toward Trisha's hand. 

"Jhoot mat bol!" Trisha raised her voice while she wagged a finger at him. "Just the day before yesterday you were watching TV at night, when it was our turn! But we still let you watch it, samjha?"

Before Nirvan could argue back.

"Have you both gone mad?" Vritika was standing by the table, eyebrows raised in pure disbelief. 

She set the three glasses down with a precise click, followed by the thud of the Fanta bottle.

"Both of you are fighting and shouting so loudly, Mummy will wake up!" she crossed her arms. "Then dekhte rehna TV."

Trisha pointed at Nirvan immediately. "Iss suar ko bol, he started it!" she hissed dramatically.

"Bas karo!" Vritika snapped, rolling her eyes. "Chup karo, and let me distribute the cold drinks first. You can fight over the remote later."

She finally sat down, and held the chilled Fanta bottle at a slight angle, pouring slowly into the first glass. She moved with seriousness, her eyes focused, ensuring every glass got an equal amount.

But of course... Her siblings were never going to take her word for it.

As she poured into the second glass, both Trisha and Nirvan leaned forward, their faces almost pressed to the table. Their eyes moved from one glass to another, eyebrows rising and falling dramatically.

The moment she filled Nirvan's glass, he gasped. "Tune mere glass mein kam daala hai!" he protested loudly, squinting.

Vritika didn't even look up. "Pagal hai kya?" she snapped. "It has been given equally to everyone. Look carefully, Andhey!"

Nirvan leaned even closer, nose almost touching the rim.

Trisha smirked. "He is just like that," she said mockingly, shaking her head. "Chindi kahin ka!"

Nirvan straightened as he folded his arms and raised his chin. "Nahi! Chindi kya? Now, the person doesn't even ask for his share?" he said.

Before he could continue, Vritika cut in sharply. "This is not called asking for a share," she said, lifting a finger. "Leechadpana kehte hai, jo tujhpe kut-kut ke bhara hai!"

Nirvan's jaw dropped. Then he narrowed his eyes and lifted his palm in mock slap. "Zyada bol rahi hai! Ek maarunga na, udti hui jaayegi! Samjhi?" he said.

Trisha leaned forward instantly. "Acha? Maar ke dikha!" she challenged, tilting her head. "Usko haath bhi laga ke dikha! Haath na tod diye na tere, tab boliyo!"

Nirvan lunged forward, reaching for Trisha's arm. 

Trisha's fingers tangling in his hair with merciless precision. 

Vritika, unwilling to be cornered, lashed out with a blind kick.

"Ahhhh!" 

"Ayyyeee stop it!"

"Mummy!!!"

"Leave my hair, Kuttey!"

"You started it Gadhi!"

A cushion arced through the air, crashing against the sofa. A stray foot clipped the table leg, and the glasses trembled in protest. The flower vase swayed, and then falled with a sharp crash that scattered shards across the floor.

Their breaths came ragged, footsteps pounded, voices rose.

"Chhod mujhe!"

"Tu ruk jaa, main batati hoon!"

"Baal mat khinch, duffer!"

"Aa jaa phir!"  

Nirvan's grip tightened on Trisha's wrist, Vritika's leg swung back for another strike, when the bedroom door groaned open.

Kashvi drifted out, one hand brushing against her eyes. Her hair was knotted into a crooked bun. She walked with the fragile rhythm of someone not yet awake, until her gaze rose.

She froze. Her eyes widened, her mouth parted in a stunned silence. Then, the confusion igniting into fury.

Trisha's fingers tangled in mid–hair pull, Nirvan's hand suspended in the air, and Vritika balanced half-standing on the couch, her kick unfinished.

All three siblings froze, their eyes widening, their hands lowering in guilty surrender.

Kashvi scanned the room, her eyes narrowing, a single nerve twitching on her forehead. Before she could speak, Trisha's nervous laugh cut through the tension.

"Mummy! We were just playing... hehehe..." she said, her smile taut She tucked her hair neatly behind her ear.

"Haan, mummy!" Vritika said brightly as she straightened her back. "Bas khel rahe the... and nothing else."

Her eyes betrayed he. She studied the ceiling, the floor, the wall. Anywhere but the eyes that could read her too easily.

Kashvi's hand rose, her finger settling on the shattered vase sprawled across the tiles. "Acha...?" she said. "Then how did this vase get broken?"

The siblings exchanged glances. A chill ran down their backs, leaving them exposed beneath her gaze.

Nirvan swallowed, nerves tightening in his throat, but he stepped forward all the same.

"Mummy... woh... hawa se gir gaya," he said, his voice steady, his hand slicing through the air to mimic the flow of wind. "Hawa chal rahi thi na..."

Kashvi blinked once. Twice. And then her fury broke loose.

"Pagal samjha hai kya mujhe?!" She shouted forcing the three siblings to shrink back.

"Hein? Tum logon ko chain nahi hai na?!" Her voice rose again, her hands pressed to her hips. "Kutte-billiyon ki tarah ladna zaroori hai?!"

The three stood in a line, heads bowed, eyes fixed on the floor.

"Nahi matlab!" Kashvi's voice rose. "It's not like you can live with some peace! Badtameez kahin ke! Nursery school ke bachche bhi itna hungama nahi karte!"

She pointed at them one by one. "Aane do tumhare Papa ko! Batati hoon main tum logon ke kartoot!"

Trisha whimpered, Nirvan swallowed hard, and Vritika clung to her cold drink with desperate stillness.

Kashvi's fury broke. "Jaanwar! Aatankwaadi!" she cried. "Now. GO TO SLEEP!"

The siblings obeyed instantly. Yet before leaving, each hand darted back to claim its glass of cold drink.

_________________

Trisha marched confidently down the familiar lane toward Ira's home. The late afternoon sun cast a soft honey-gold glow across the houses, and a faint breeze ruffled the leaves above her.

As she reached the gate, she pushed it open with a playful flourish. She hopped onto the front porch, pressed the doorbell barely when the door flew open.

Suhani Rao stood in the doorway, Ira's mothe. To their friends she was known for two gifts, opposite yet inseparable.

Her cooking was an example of forgiveness that could convince even the most heartless people to turn from their sins.

But her discipline was a different force, one that was strong enough to bend the air itself around her and sharp enough to cut through silence.  

Her face lit up the moment she saw Trisha.

Trisha opened her mouth, "Na–", but the word was swallowed as Suhani pulled her into a hug.

"Rishu!" Suhani cried, rocking her gently. "After so many days you came? Bhool gayi thi kya hume?"

Trisha's grin widened as she pulled back. She bent down, touching Suhani aunty's feet with a flourish.

"Namaste, aunty! Aapko bhoolna toh impossible hai!" she intoned. "Mai aapko bhool jaau aisa ho nahi sakta, aur aap mujhe bhool jaaye aisa mai hone nahi dungi!" Her hand pressed against her chest, her head tilted in practiced devotion.

Suhani aunty's laughter rang out as she smacked Trisha's arm playfully. "Chup kar, Nautanki! Bass... drame karwa lo tujhse. Come inside!" she said.

Her hand found Trisha's wrist and together they walked inside.

The plush beige couch was decorated with bright floral cushions that smelled faintly of fresh lavender. The walls displayed framed family photos, baby Ira, toddler Ira, angry 5-year-old Ira refusing to smile, and Trisha suppressed a grin.

Suhani aunty gestured toward the couch. "You sit. I'll bring something to eat. Tell me, what will you have?"

Trisha's reply came without hesitation. "Aunty, aapke haath ki karele ki sabzi tak also tastes awesome."

"Achha? Toh phir-"

"But if you're asking..." Trisha said, her finger rising to tap her chin. "-then perhaps... a few special sandwiches... some orange juice... and yes... chocolate pastries too."

Then, footsteps echoed on the staircase as Ira emerged on the landing, arms crossed.

"Aur kuch baaki ho toh woh bhi bol de," she sighed. "Restaurant ka poora menu banwa de Mummy se."

Trisha laughed clutching her stomach until she nearly collapsed onto the sofa.

"Arey nahi nahi!" she said through broken giggles. "Restaurant ka menu nahi chahiye! Waise bhi-" She rose, arms stretched high. "Ridhima ke ghar bhi jaana hai! Wahan bhi kuch toh khaana hi padega!"

_________________________

Ridhima's house rose before them at last, the big white one, bougainvillea climbing the boundary wall in a riot of color.

Trisha pressed the doorbell and silence answered. She waited, then pressed again.

Still nothing.

Trisha frowned. "Why is she not opening the gate? Hum kabse bell baja rahe hai, why is no one here?"

Ira exhaled. "Siblings' behavior, Rishu."

"Hein? Matlab?" Trisha asked, leaning toward the grill gate.

Ridhima stood upstairs, hemmed in by a mountain of clothes. She folded a T-shirt with clipped motions. Her bun had unraveled, loose strands clinging stubbornly to her forehead.

"OYE! Gate kholne jaa!" she shouted down the staircase.

Rishaan did not stir. He was sprawled across the sofa, his black hoodie rumpled from the day, sleeves pushed up, hair falling on his forhead.

"Main kyun jaun?" he said lazily. "I just came back from college."

Ridhima's head snapped up. "Just? JUST?? Two hours have passed since you came! Two!"

She advanced toward the door, the shirt dangling from her hand. "Main kaam kar rahi hoon, tu jaa!" she cried.

Rishaan pushed himself upright, his grin wicked as his voice pitched high. "Main kaam kar rahiiii hoon!" he sang, shoulders bouncing in mockery.

Then he let himself fall back onto the sofa, limbs sprawling. "You're not doing anything, Ridhi. You're just touching clothes. They're not going to suddenly run away."

Ridhima's gasp cut through the room. "I swear, if you don't get up, I will-"

Her words dissolved into the shrill echo of the doorbell.

Outside, Trisha had surrendered to impatience. She pressed the bell again and again.

"Go!" Ridhima cried.

"YOU go!" Rishaan countered.

"You go!"

"No, you!"

The doorbell rang again and still... neither of them stirred.

Ridhima's hand tightened around the shirt, her jaw set while Rishaan sank deeper into the cushions, unmoved.

Isha Shah burst out from the narrow kitchen hallway. She wiped her damp palms hastily on the corner of her floral dupatta as she stormed toward the living room.

Her neatly combed hair. A few strands had escaped, sticking to her forehead. Her eyebrows were pulled together in one tight line and her eyes blazed with the fiery certainty of a woman whose patience had officially run out.

In that fierce, unmistakable Gadhwali tone, she thundered, "Kabaar biti bell cha bajni! Sunayi nii denu tum duyo te? Behra wei gaya kya tum? Gate khola jaitey! Nii tah kapaal fodh dyaan mien tumhar!"

(From how long has the bell been ringing! Can't you both hear it? Are you both deaf? Open the gate now or I'll break your heads!)

The siblings, who had been lounging on opposite ends of the sofa, straightened so fast. 

Their backs became stiff, their eyes widened, and their expressions shifted into a synchronized look of Oh no... we're dead.

But naturally, the moment fear receded even a little, the sibling instincts kicked in

"Mummy, tell her to go!" Rishaan burst out dramatically, pointing at his sister.

"Mummy, mujhe nahi-isse kaho!" Ridhima shot back instantly, flipping her hair and glaring at him. "Yeh kutta kabhi nahi jaata gate kholne!" she said pointing her finger at him.

"Tameez se baat kar!" Rishaan snapped, his palm lifted in a gesture of authority.

She mimicked him with her same hand raised, the same tilt of the head, the same tone. "Tameez se baat kar!" she repeated.

With instinctive speed, she seized the nearest cushion, and sent it flying. It struck his shoulder with a soft but decisive impact.

"AREYYY!" Rishaan roared, eyes flashing as he clutched another cushion with mock righteousness.

Isha closed her eyes, pressing two fingers to her forehead. "These two will never get along..." she whispered.

Leaving the siblings to their cushion warfare, she walked toward the main door with quick steps. Her mouth continued muttering a mixture of Hindi, Gadhwali, and universal mom-frustration that only mothers can decode.

But the moment she opened the gate... everything changed. Her entire face softened. The tight line of her lips relaxed.

Outside the gate stood Trisha and Ira, hands clasped, their smiles bright with innocence.

"Oh ho!" Isha cried, her anger dissolving into sweetness. "You both came after so many days!"

Trisha and Ira bent gracefully to touch her feet while Isha's hand rested gently on their heads.

Isha said. "Come inside, beta. Yahaan toh yudh chhida hua hai."

The moment Trisha and Ira entered the living room.

What greeted them was not a home but a battlefield, the cushions strewn across the floor, voices raised in mock fury.

Ridhima had both fists buried in Rishaan's hair, her fingers gripping so tightly that even the strands seemed to cry for help. She was tugging with the determination of someone trying to uproot a stubborn weed.

In return, Rishaan had twisted her wrist,  just enough to make it very clear he was older, taller, and not going down without a fight. His elbow nudged her back, more of a "behave yourself" jab than an attack, but definitely enough to annoy her further.

Then she suddenly lifted her foot and kicked him square on the leg. "Aiiieee!" he hissed dramatically, clutching his leg.

The quarrel halted in a heartbeat as Ridhima's eyes caught sight of Ira and Trisha.

Her fingers released their grip, her posture lengthened, her face snapping into a smile too polished to be real. 

She brushed down her messy T-shirt, smoothed her hair into order, and crossed the room with a practiced elegance.

"Hi!" she said, her tone suddenly drenched in sweetness.

Meanwhile...Behind her, Rishaan pushed himself up from the floor, dusting imaginary dirt off his hoodie. 

He adjusted the sleeves, tugged the hem, and swiped his palm through his hair in one dramatic swoop.

Leaning lazily against the sofa, he raised his hand in greeting. "Namaste, baccho!" he said.

"Namaste bhaiya!" Ira and Trisha replied in unison.

Rishaan's eyes gleamed as he pounced on the opportunity. "Dekha? This is how well-behaved kids are. Not like you, badtameez enough to raise a hand against your elder brother."

Ridhima turned, her eyes blazing with a murderous glare. "Nikal jaa yahan se nahi toh aur pitega!" she warned.

She caught Ira and Trisha by the wrists, pulling them along with determined strides toward her room.

______________________________

The moment they entered Ridhima's room, Trisha collapsed onto the bed, her eyes narrowing. "Are you fine?" she asked softly. "Nahi matlab... thak toh nahi gayi ladte-ladte?"

Ira chose the chair instead, folding her legs neatly. "Yaar... how bad you two fight?"

"Yeh toh roz ka hai. Ignore it," Ridhima murmured, her hand cutting the air in a careless flick.

She reclined, her posture loosening, her gaze sharpening with sudden intent. "You tell me," she asked softly, "did you discover anything about the calm boy?"

A sigh escaped Trisha, before she plopped onto the bed in defeat. "Nahi yaar! We don't even know his name yet," she murmured.

A spark lit Ridhima's eyes. "Don't worry," she whispered. "I have a solid plan." Her lips curved slowly.

Just as Ridhima leaned forward to speak, the door creaked open. 

Isha entered carrying a gleaming steel tray laden with samosas. "Lo beta, samosa kha lo," she said placing the tray on the low table.

"Arey aunty, iski kya zarurat thi!" Trisha said, one hand pressed theatrically against her chest.

Ridhima's laugh broke the moment. "Chup chaap kha le, nahi toh main kha jaungi tera samosa," she teased.

The moment the words left Ridhima's mouth, Trisha's eyes flared wide. She seized a samosa with both hands, holding it close.

"Haan haan, kha rahi hoon," she said between hurried bites, crumbs tumbling from her lips.

A gentle giggle escaped Ira, her gaze amused as she chose her piece with graceful precision.

She ate in silence for a moment before leaning forward. "So, what's the plan?" she asked.

Ridhima lifted her chin. "Simple," she said, her tone firm. "Tomorrow in the assembly, we'll watch where he stands. The line will tell us his class."

Trisha paused mid-bite, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she chewed. "Aur usse kya hoga?" she murmured.

Ridhima opened her mouth, but Ira cut in with a roll of her eyes. Her cheeks were still rounded from the samosa, lending her words a muffled charm.

"If we find out his class, we can talk to his classmates. They'll tell us everything like his name, his nature, his whole story." She paused, wiping her finger delicately on a tissue. "Basic investigation, Behen," she said.

Ridhima's palms came together in a sharp clap. "Exactly! Aur jab naam mil gaya, toh Insta mil gaya. It will become easy to stalk him."

The mention of Insta sent a visible shimmer through Trisha's gaze. 

She tilted her head, her voice hushed with awe. "Ooo... aisa kya!" Her smile grew. "Toh theek hai. Kal se mission start phir."

Trisha raised her hand, Ira's hand followed, resting atop her and Ridhima's palm landed last completing the circle.

Together, their hands became a single stack.

Tomorrow would not arrive as an ordinary school day. It would come carrying the promise of secrets, of discovery, of adventure.

It was the dawn of Mission Calm Boy.