11. Sweets, Sarcasm, and Spilled Coffee

The Poddar household was buzzing with excitement and energy. The news of Abhira’s long-lost brother, Abhir, coming for lunch had everyone in a cheerful mood. Kaveri, Armaan’s grandmother, sat in her favorite armchair, her sharp eyes following the flurry of preparations around her. Despite her age, her mind was as sharp as ever, and today she seemed even more lively.

“Dekho, Armaan,” Kaveri said, her voice filled with warmth as she addressed her grandson. “Aaj  toh Abhira ke chehre se muskaan hi nahi jaa rahi. Maine usey itna khush pehle kabhi nahi dekha.”

Armaan, who was arranging the flowers in a vase, glanced up at his grandmother and smiled. “Aap bilkul theek keh rahi ho, Dadi. Bas dua karta hoon ki  uski khushi mein koi rukhavat na daale.”

Kaveri nodded, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “Haan, yeh baat toh sahi hai. Par jis tarah ki ladki Abhira hai, uska bhai bhi zaroor usi ke jaisa hoga. Khush rehne do usse. Bohot saha hai usne apni zindagi mein.”

Nearby, Madhav, Armaan’s father, chuckled as he watched his mother’s enthusiasm. “Maasa, isske enthusiasm ke saamne toh lagta hai jaise yeh lunch nahi, shaadi ka function ho raha hai.”

Kaveri shot him a mock glare. “Madhav, zyada mat bolo. Tumhe toh apne bete ki patni ki khushi mein hi khushi milni chahiye.”

“Woh toh hai, Maasa,” Madhav replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Aur honestly, mujhe bhi curiosity hai yeh Abhir kaisa hoga. Agar Abhira ki tarah hai toh family mein ek aur heera add ho jayega.”

In the corner, Kiara and Aryan were busy teasing Krish, who was tasked with setting up the dining table. “Krish bhai, yeh plates seedhi kyun nahi rakhi?” Kiara teased, her voice playful.

“Kyunki Krish bhai ka focus plates par nahi, khane par hai,” Aryan added, laughing.

“Very funny,” Krish replied, rolling his eyes. “Tum dono yahan khade ho kar mazaak udaane ke bajaye meri madad kyun nahi karte?”

Ruhi walked in with her husband, Rohit, carrying Daksh in her arms. The baby’s laughter brought an instant smile to everyone’s faces.

Ruhi handed Daksh over to Madhav and said, “Papa, sambhal lo apne grandson ko for a bit. Mujhe table par salad arrange karna hai.”

“Arre, yeh toh sabse easy kaam hai,” Madhav said, taking Daksh and making silly faces at him, which elicited more giggles from the baby.

While everyone busied themselves with their respective tasks, Charu stood near the kitchen entrance, observing everything. Her arms were crossed, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she watched the family’s excitement. Deep down, she felt a little annoyed, a voice in her head echoing her concerns.

I just hope that angry bird doesn’t end up insulting my family like he did his own yesterday, she thought to herself, recalling how cold Abhir had been with the Goenkas. Charu couldn’t deny that his behavior had left a bitter impression on her, even if she understood the pain he must have felt.

Just then, Armaan walked over to her, noticing her pensive expression. “Kya soch rahi ho, Charu?” he asked, his tone was curious.

Charu snapped out of her thoughts and shook her head. “Kuch nahi. Bas… hoping ki sab kuch smoothly ho.”

Armaan gave her a reassuring smile. “I know kal Abhira ne mujhe bataya Abhir Goenkas ke saath jaisa tha,Par Abhira ke liye woh yahan rukha huwa haina. Uske kahne par woh udaipur tak agaya toh deere dheere  sabko accept karega woh .”

Charu nodded, though a part of her still held onto her reservations. “I know, bhai but…” She hesitated before continuing, “I just hope he likes and appreciates what Abhira bhabhi is doing for him. She’s genuinely happy, and I don’t want anyone to ruin that.”

Armaan placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice firm yet gentle. “Charu, trust me. Agar kuch bhi hoga, hum sab milkar handle karenge. Bas Abhira ki khushi ke liye positive rehne ki koshish karo.”

Charu sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Theek hai bhai. Let’s hope for the best.”

Little did she know, Abhir was also trying to compose himself, determined to not let his inner turmoil spill over onto this family.

For the first time in a long time, he wanted to try. Not for himself, but for Abhira—and maybe, just maybe, for the family waiting so eagerly to meet him.

----

Abhir stepped out of the cab, his face partially obscured by a black mask and a cap pulled low over his forehead. The bustling market around him was alive with chatter and activity, but he barely paid it any attention. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts.

Holding a small list in his hand, he wandered toward the flower shop. A nervous energy coursed through him as he looked over the vibrant selection of roses, lilies, and orchids. He hesitated, unsure what kind of flowers the Poddars might prefer. Would they appreciate something extravagant? Or would a simple bouquet suffice?

“Sir, kya chahiye aapko?” the florist asked, breaking his train of thought.

Abhir glanced up, startled for a moment, then pointed to a mixed bouquet of white lilies and pink roses. “Yeh pack kar dijiye.”

As the florist worked on the bouquet, Abhir's eyes drifted toward a sweet shop across the street. He thought about how important this meeting was—not just for him, but for Abhira too. Meri ek galti uski khushi ko bigaad sakti hai, he thought, the weight of that realization pressing on him.

The florist handed him the bouquet, and Abhir muttered a quick thanks before heading toward the sweet shop. The aroma of freshly made laddoos, jalebis, and barfis wafted through the air as he stepped inside. His eyes scanned the rows of neatly displayed sweets until he found a box of kaju katli and another of gulab jamun. Those seemed safe choices—nothing too over-the-top, but still thoughtful.

As he paid for the sweets, Abhir’s thoughts wandered to the Poddar family. He was stepping into a house full of strangers who already held Abhira close to their hearts. The mere thought of being under their scrutiny made him nervous.

He took a deep breath, his hands tightening around the shopping bags. Relax, Abhir. Yeh sab Abhira ke liye hai. Unhe koi takleef nahi hone deni hai, he reminded himself.

Walking back toward the cab, he couldn’t help but reflect on how much his life had changed. From being a broke teenager struggling to make ends meet to now—a star who didn’t have to lift a finger if he didn’t want to. Somewhere along the way, he had lost touch with normalcy. The idea of navigating family dynamics felt alien to him, like trying to solve a puzzle without all the pieces.

The sound of a group of teenagers laughing nearby snapped him out of his thoughts. They glanced his way, and for a moment, panic shot through him. Had they recognized him? But they walked on, oblivious, and Abhir exhaled in relief.

Just as Abhir walked towards his cab, balancing the bouquet in one hand and the bag of sweets in the other, he barely noticed the well-dressed man approaching him, eyes glued to his phone.

The inevitable happened.

SPLASH!

A cup of steaming hot coffee crashed into Abhir’s crisp white T-shirt, spreading an ugly brown stain across the fabric. He flinched at the sudden heat, his jaw clenching.

“Shit!” Abhir hissed, flinching as the hot coffee soaked into his white t-shirt. His gaze snapped up, his sharp brown eyes narrowing at the man responsible.

The older man—who looked like he’d just walked out of a boardroom—barely spared him a glance as he wiped a few stray drops from his expensive suit. “Tch, youngsters these days. No sense of awareness,” he scoffed.

Abhir blinked, taken aback. “Awareness? Awareness?!” He gestured wildly at his ruined T-shirt. “Sir, I think your ‘awareness’ must’ve gone on a world tour because you were the one who rammed into me while being glued to your phone!”

Sanjay Bansal finally looked at him properly, his brows furrowing in irritation. “Watch your tone, boy. Do you even know who I am?”

Abhir gave him a deadpan look. “Judging by your attitude, I’m guessing you’re the CEO of ‘Blame Everyone But Yourself Pvt. Ltd.’”

Sanjay’s jaw tightened. “Mind your language. I don’t have time for entitled brats like you.”

Abhir let out a short laugh. “Oh, the irony. I’m the brat? You just spilled coffee on me, didn’t even apologize, and now you’re acting like I wronged you?” He clapped his hands dramatically.

Sanjay scoffed, looking him over with a cold assessment. “It’s just a shirt. I’m sure someone like you can afford another dozen. Or do you need a donation?”

The underlying sneer in his voice made Abhir’s blood boil. His grip tightened on the bouquet, his knuckles turning white. The last thing he wanted was to make a scene, but something about Sanjay’s smug expression set him off.

“I don’t need charity from arrogant man who think money can excuse their lack of manners,” Abhir snapped. “A simple apology would’ve been enough.”

Sanjay chuckled mockingly. “You expect an apology? From me" His nostrils flared as he stepped closer. “You insolent—”

Abhir held up a hand. “Relax, uncle. Your blood pressure must be as high as your ego.” He pointed at the stain on his shirt. “I’ll have to go  and soak this in detergent, but I’m afraid even Surf Excel won’t be able to wash away your attitude.”

Sanjay took a deep breath, visibly fuming. “I don’t have time for this nonsense.”

Abhir smirked, adjusting his cap. “Neither do I, I'm least interested in bonding with an entitled man over spilled coffee. So Heartwarming, isn’t it?”

Sanjay shot him a glare before turning on his heel and walking away, muttering curses under his breath.

Abhir watched him go, shaking his head in amusement. “What a charming personality. Bet his family must love dealing with that every day.”

Little did he know, the grumpy man he just verbally sparred with was none other than Sanjay Bansal—Charu’s father.

And fate? Well, it was about to have a field day with this new revelation.