Chapter 41: Chapter 39- Poocharello

Siara's pov-

The silence stretched for a beat too long, and I suddenly became acutely aware of all the eyes on me. That’s when I knew it—they were about to start their nonsense. Just because I don’t involve myself much doesn’t mean I don’t observe. What I said was purely an observation, nothing more. But knowing this family, they’d twist it into some wild declaration of my undying non-existent love for their very much existing brother.

Well, they're living in a delusion if they think my statement had some deeper meaning. That's never going to happen. I don't even trust my shadow let alone trusting a man. The facts were as clear as day—people walked away from me, judged me on the basis of speculations others passed on. The opinions that had always been built on assumptions, not the truth. I don’t care about anyone’s perspective, nor did I care about it before. They could keep their fantasies. That's not my problem.

Shivay, of course, was the first to recover, his expression morphing into something that could only be described as devilish amusement. "Well, well, Siara bhabhi" he drawled, stepping forward dramatically and cupping his ear as if straining to hear better. "Care to repeat that for the class? Did our ice queen just express... possessiveness?"

Kabir immediately jumped on the bandwagon, dropping his faux-weightlifting stance. "Oh, this is gold! Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Siara Sehgal just claimed her man. Someone note the time and date—we're making history!"

Meanwhile, Mahir’s expression was a mix of surprise and amusement, though his lips were definitely twitching upward. "You know," he said slowly, his deep voice carrying just enough humor to make me want to evaporate, "if I knew it would bother you this much, I’d have worn a jacket."

Devansh turned to Mahir, who was still leaning against the van, watching the chaos with an unreadable expression. “Congratulations, bhai. You’re officially owned by your wife!”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t smirk, didn’t even glance away. His sharp, unwavering gaze was locked entirely on me. His voice, low and unhurried,"I don't mind, I'm all hers"

Divya was practically crying, wiping her tears like she was at the climax of an emotional decade long daily soap. And then came the most overdramatic reaction of the century. She stood up straight, wiped her tears with the back of her hand, and dramatically flung her arms.

"Our MOM loves our DAD, guys! FINALLY!” she declared, her voice quivering with exaggerated emotion. She paused for dramatic emphasis before adding, “I want to hug that Richy Rich uncle right now!”

The silence that followed was deafening. Everyone froze mid-laugh, processing her words, before exploding into absolute chaos.

Kabir, never one to miss an opportunity, clasped his hands together and sniffed, pretending to be emotional. “It’s been such a long journey, but they’ve made it. Mahir bhai, bhabhi, you’ve given us hope! We are super excited to meet our fourth sibling. Oh my god, little Ice-rock sehgal will arrive soon”

Shivay joined in, fake-sobbing into Avi’s shoulder, who by now was glaring at Mahir like he’d just declared World War III. “It’s true! Our broken family is healed now. I can finally sleep at night!” he wailed, clutching Avi like a long-lost lover.

Divya, as if possessed by a spirit, gasped loudly, dropped to her knees with a thud that shook the ground, and threw her arms toward the heavens.

“I KNEW IT!” she bellowed, her voice so loud it could’ve been heard in the next village. Seriously, I think I felt my eardrums vibrate. “I KNEW they were meant to be! Italian God has answered our prayers!” She dramatically paused, staring into the sky like she was waiting for a divine light to shine down on her. “I never knew they’re faster than our Indian Gods! Well, it’s a tough competition then!”

Meanwhile, I stood there frozen, horrified but they were too busy crying and hugging each other like they’d just won an Oscar.

Shivay clung to Avi like he was clinging to his last breath, tears streaming down his face. “It’s all coming together now, Avi! I can’t even handle this emotional rollercoaster!”

Kabir, who had been observing the madness, suddenly joined in with exaggerated sobs. “Two babies are arriving soon, guys! Baby Ice-Rock Sehgal will be thrilled meeting us!" He sniffled dramatically.

Of course, this wasn’t enough for them yet. So Myra, always ready to add fuel to the fire, piped up, “Good thing. Now Kavya bhabhi and Siara bhabhi can alone push the van. They’ve together got the energy of four people!”

Avya, completely fed up with the chaos, leaned in and whispered to me, “Bhabhi, tell me to throw them down the hill.”

This was enough now, seriously enough. This all is happening because of Sid. SID you..... you are GONE. I dialled his number while glaring at the emotional outburst crew in front of me.

The moment Sid picked up, I didn't even bother with pleasantries."YOU are working the night shift again," I said flatly.

There was a moment of silence on the other end, probably Sid's brain trying to process what just happened. Then, in his familiar tone, I could almost hear the resigned sigh through the phone. "Okay... yeah, I deserve that. But then he murmured to himself which was clearly audible to me,"But what did I do to this time? Why can't I remember......?"

I ended the call without another word and turned back to the theater, their faces shifting from dramatic joy to deep sympathy as they all glanced at one another, knowing full well that this was meant for Sid. Avi looked like he’d just heard the world’s saddest story, and Kabir, who was still pretending to sob over the imaginary baby, dropped his act and gave a heartfelt, “Poor Sid. He’s done for.”

Mahir, who had been watching the whole spectacle unfold with a mixture of amusement and resignation, finally sighed, his gaze flicking from one chaotic moment to the next. His lips twitched into a small, amused smile.

Well," he said, rolling his sleeves back down with a nonchalant air, "if you’re all done plotting this crazy stuff, how about we focus on not getting stuck in the middle of nowhere for the next hour?"

I thought the storm had finally passed, but of course, that was too simple. A harsh sobbing broke the moment, and when we all turned around, there she was—Kavya, using Devansh’s sleeve like a tissue, tears streaming down her face. We all fell silent, waiting for her to process whatever had triggered the floodgate.

Without warning, she shoved her husband away, as if his presence might infect her with some contagious disease. She wiped her eyes with exaggerated motions, sniffed dramatically, and without so much as a glance in our direction, she walked ahead. Her voice, almost drowned in the sobs, floated back to us. "Pregnancy hormones," she muttered as if that was the key to unlocking the insanity of the moment.

.

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After what felt like an eternity of grunts, sweat, and questionable life choices, they finally managed to push the van up the steep incline into the village. I couldn't decide whether I was more impressed by their sheer determination or their utter lack of self-preservation. Either way, they had somehow moved the van into position, and I had to admit, the view here was nothing short of breathtaking.

Before us stood the most stunning house I had ever laid eyes on. It looked like something straight out of a fairy tale—stood like a dream pulled straight out of a postcard. Nestled at the edge of the hill, and had an air of peace that screamed, "We have no idea what just hit us, but we're going to be okay." Honestly, it was so beautiful that I briefly considered abandoning the madness and moving in.

Surrounding the house was a sprawling garden bursting with life and color—rare flowers in every shade imaginable swayed gently in the breeze, their fragrance mingling with the earthy aroma of the countryside. Olive and cypress trees framed the property, their silhouettes casting delicate shadows on the ground. Vineyards and fields of sunflowers quilted the landscape, their vibrant colors merging with the soft blue of the distant mountains. A narrow cobblestone path wound its way to the house, bordered by lavender bushes that screamed peace.

But of course, there was no time for peace and quiet when my beloved family was around. Kabir, with his ever-optimistic grin, snapped his fingers and announced, "I’ve got a plan!"

Oh boy.

He turned to us dramatically, as if he were about to drop the plot of the century. "We need a place to stay, right? Well, I’ve got it. Leave it to me." His eyes gleamed with an unsettling mixture of confidence and mischief.

I could already feel the chaos building. Sure enough, Kabir and Avi were the first to march up to the front door, and I am sure they had practiced their performance in front of a mirror. They pressed the bell, soon the door creaked open, and I half expected a violin to start playing, but what greeted us was... an old couple standing there, staring at Kabir and Avi like they'd just walked into the wrong house on a reality TV show.

Avi straightened his back like he was preparing for a Broadway debut. Kabir, on the other hand, immediately wiped a non-existent tear from his eye and started with a voice so dramatic, it could’ve been the soundtrack to a soap opera.

"Good evening, kind strangers!" he began, his arms outstretched like he was about to bless them with some life-altering wisdom. "We are humble travelers who have endured a harrowing journey—a journey so treacherous, only the purest souls could survive it!"

Avi nodded solemnly beside him, his face as serious as a guy trying to get into an exclusive club. "It was a dangerous trek. We faced obstacles, we encountered wild goats, people who belong to asylum and we pushed a van up a hill! Alone. All for the hope of a peaceful night’s rest."

I glanced at Mahir, who was giving me the “Are they for real?” look. I shrugged, because frankly, I was too tired to process any more nonsense.

Kabir continued, eyes brimming with what I could only describe as dramatic flair. "And now, dear, kind people of this blessed home, we seek only a safe haven for the night... before we’re forced to sleep under the stars with wild animals! We don't want to scare them"

I could see the old man squinting at them, probably wondering if they’d lost their minds or just their way. The old lady, with her wild, untamed hair, looked like she had seen this kind of performance before. She sighed, crossed her arms, and muttered, "This is Italy, not Hollywood."

Kabir smiled with the same intensity of someone getting nominated for an Oscar. "Please, madam and sir," he said, "We only wish to stay for the night. We bring only our gratitude—and maybe a few wild stories, but mostly gratitude."

Avi nodded enthusiastically, backing him up like a trusty sidekick. "Yes, exactly. We won’t be trouble! Just a lot of food, some warm beds, and we’re out at the crack of dawn. Promise."

I stood at the back, arms crossed, and wondered how long it would take before this absurdity would either get us thrown out or, at best, welcomed with a free meal and a roof over our heads. Either way, the only thing I could count on was chaos, and it was only just beginning.

Just when I thought the situation couldn't get any more absurd, Kabir, with a sly grin, took the lead again. He subtly leaned in, lowering his voice to an almost mystical tone as if he were about to reveal the ultimate truth.

"And of course," he continued, glancing back at Mahir and me, "My dear brother and his wife here—Mahir and Siara—are newlyweds."

I almost choked on my own breath. I shot a glare at him so sharp, I could practically see the air around us sizzle. Newlyweds?! Since when?

But Kabir was on a roll now, clearly embracing the role of the world’s most over-the-top narrator. "Yes, yes, you see, they just tied the knot not long ago!" he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"So, you see,” he continued, his voice thick with fake emotion, “this is a love story like no other. A tale of two souls destined to be together despite all odds. Our dear bhai Mahir and bhabhi Siara—” he paused to sniffle, for effect, “—ran away to follow their hearts.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Ran away? Seriously? If he continues this, he won't be able to even walk away.

“Their families were against their union. Imagine it—star-crossed lovers, torn apart by cruel fate and family feuds. It was like Romeo and Juliet, but without the poison and daggers.” he said while the couple looked captivating.

Avi stepped in, nodding solemnly. “It’s true. We barely managed to help them escape. It was harrowing. There were dogs chasing us, armed relatives, and one very angry aunt wielding a rolling pin. But we persevered because love always wins.”

The old lady gasped, clutching her heart. “Mio Dio! Such bravery! Such love!”

Kabir nodded sagely, as if he had just recited the deepest poetry known to mankind. “Yes. And now, here they are, honeymooning in Italy to celebrate their forbidden love. They’ve been through so much—so much—but look at them now, thriving.” He gestured toward Mahir and me as if we were a living, breathing romance novel cover.

Kabir held up a finger dramatically. “But what truly sets this couple apart is their passion. They eloped in the rain, under a full moon, with Siara bhabhi in a wedding dress made of—of…”

“Recycled paper,” Avi added, completely straight-faced.

“Yes! Recycled paper!” Kabir exclaimed. “Because they care about the environment. Isn’t that inspiring?”

By now, I was tempted to throw both of them into the nearest bush, but the old couple was eating up every word, their eyes brimming with admiration.

Mahir, standing beside me, was clearly not amused but went along with it, giving a tight-lipped smile that didn't help the illusion.

The old lady clasped her hands together. “What a beautiful story! You are all welcome to stay here. For as long as you need! I insist!”

Kabir turned to me, smirking. “See, bhabhi? Told you I’d get us a place to stay.”

I glared at him, mentally planning his doom. “I’m going to recycle you if you keep this up.”

As the old lady was busy fussing over us “newlyweds,” her eyes suddenly drifted over to Shivay, who had been lurking at the back, trying to stay out of sight. Unfortunately for him, he had made the fatal mistake of existing in her peripheral vision.

Her face lit up like a firecracker. “Madonna mia!” she gasped, clutching her chest as if she’d just seen the reincarnation of a Roman god. “And who is this handsome young man?”

Shivay, caught off guard, blinked rapidly. “Uh... me?” He pointed to himself, looking around as if there were another "handsome young man" hiding behind him.

“Yes, you!” she exclaimed, shuffling over with surprising speed for someone her age. Before Shivay could react, she grabbed his face with both hands, squishing his cheeks like he was a toddler in a diaper commercial.

“Bellissimo! Look at this face! Those eyes! Those dimples! You're soo cute” she cooed, tilting his head left and right as if inspecting a priceless artifact.

Shivay, wide-eyed and horrified, tried to mumble something, but all that came out was a muffled “Mphhh!”

“You are adorable! Just like…” She gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest as if she’d just seen a ghost. “Just like my dear dead dog, Poocharello! Oh, he was a treasure! You’re his reincarnation! I knew it!”

The room fell silent for a second. Then Shivay, still trapped in her iron grip, managed to squeak out, “I’m sorry, WHAT?”

Kabir doubled over in laughter. “Poocharello? Oh my God, Shivay, you’ve been compared to a dog! A dead one, no less!”

Avi wiped a tear. “Shivay Poocharello Sehgal—it has a ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Let go of me!” Shivay yelped, finally freeing himself from her clutches, only for her to grab his hand and pat it affectionately.

“Don’t worry, bambino. I’ll take good care of you while you’re here. You remind me so much of him—he used to bark at everything too!”

By this point, Shivay’s face was a mix of indignation and disbelief. “I DO NOT bark!”

The old lady nodded solemnly. “Denial. Just like Poocharello.”

She turned to her husband, who was now struggling not to laugh. “Paolo, why didn’t we have a son like this? Look at him! He’s perfect!”

Mahi, who had been holding back a laugh, finally burst out. “Oh, he’s definitely something, ma’am. Just wait until he opens his mouth for more than five seconds.”

The old lady ignored her, still clutching Shivay’s arm like he was a rare artifact. “You all must stay for a longer time! You must let me introduce you to my granddaughter. She is beautiful, smart, and single!”

At this, Shivay’s face turned an alarming shade of red. “Ma’am, I—I don’t think—”

“Shhh!” she cut him off, placing a finger on his lips. “Don’t argue with an old woman, dear. It’s bad luck.”

The old lady wasn’t done. She gently patted Shivay’s head like he was an obedient pet, then pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and started dabbing his face. “You’re sweating, my little Poocharello. Such a hard-working boy! You must be starving after pushing that big van. Come, I’ll make you some biscuits—Poocharello loved biscuits!”

Shivay’s face contorted into a mix of disbelief, horror, and utter betrayal. He slowly turned to me, and to his misery, I was trying my level best to ignore his puppy face. Take it shivay, take it. This is for making this doctor chased by angry vendors. Aah, I so like this.

“Oh, Poocharello, don’t be shy. The lady’s being so kind. Maybe wag your tail to say thank you?” Avya told him

Kabir and Avi collapsed into each other, howling with laughter, while Mahir’s lips twitched into a rare smile. Shivay looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

Finally, Kabir cleared his throat, wiping away tears of laughter. “Ahem, actually, we haven’t properly introduced ourselves!” He stepped forward with an exaggerated flourish, dragging Avi with him. “We’re the Sehgals—a family united by love, chaos, and occasional insanity.” He then introduced everyone and at last motioned to Mahir and me.

Shivay’s horror lessened as the old lady ignored him completely and shuffled over to me and Mahir. She grabbed our hands affectionately with surprising strength. “Bella! Such a strong woman, taming this handsome one. You’re a queen!”

We nodded simultaneously, our reflexes syncing like we were seasoned actors in an unplanned skit.

"Of course, of course!” chimed in her husband, who had appeared from somewhere behind her, holding a rake as if it were a scepter. His voice boomed with excitement. “You two must stay in our best room! You need romance, warmth, and privacy for your… honeymoon!”

Mahir and I froze mid-nod, turning to each other with identical expressions of disbelief. Together, we whispered, “Honeymoon?”

Shivay couldn’t hold back anymore and said sarcastically,“Yes Honeymoon, you know you can eat honey while staring at the moon—”

“Thank you!” I cut him off sweetly, clasping the woman’s hands. “We’d love that. And don’t worry about him,” I added, jerking my thumb at Shivay. “He’s just nervous because he’s been barking too much today.”

Kabir choked on his laughter, Avi started imitating a dog’s bark, and Shivay stared at me like I had just betrayed him on a national level.

The old lady, oblivious to the chaos unfolding, clapped her hands. “Oh, such a lively family! You bring such energy!”

Ohh wait for some more time, this is just their warm up.

Her husband nodded, stroking his chin like a wise sage. “Yes, yes. It’s been too quiet around here. You’re just what we needed.”

Quiet? Soon they'll realise, we are exactly what they don't need.

“My name is Signora Lucia,” the old lady introduced herself with a dramatic wave of her hand. “And this is my husband, Signor Marco. This house has been in our family for generations, and it’s blessed with happiness and love.”

“And barking, apparently,” Shivay whispered under his breath, earning a glare from me and a swat from Kabir.

“Come, come!” Signor Marco said, beckoning us inside. “We will show you our best room, and then we’ll prepare a feast! My wife makes the best risotto in all of Italy!”

As they led us inside, Signora Lucia couldn’t resist giving Shivay one last affectionate pat on the head. “Poocharello, you’re my favorite already!”

But of course divya and gravity have

given up being on good terms. Before we could take another step, there was a loud, unmistakable thud behind us. Everyone froze momentarily, the sound reverberating through the peaceful village air.

Myra sighed dramatically, not even turning around. “I swear, if it’s Divya again…”

It was Divya. Flat on her back in the flowerbed, one leg sticking straight up in the air like she was auditioning for a circus act. The old couple stared at her, their expressions caught between concern and utter confusion, as if they’d just discovered an exotic bird crash-landing in their yard.

“Why?” Divya whined, her arm flailing as she attempted to sit up. “Why does this keep happening to me?”

Avi crouched down beside her, trying to hide his laughter and failing miserably. “You need to have a serious talk with gravity, Divya. Maybe apologize for whatever you did to offend it.”

Lucia clutched her chest, her concern turning theatrical. “Oh no! Bella ragazza, are you hurt? Marco, fetch the special olive oil—she needs blessings!”

Marco blinked. “The olive oil? For her back?”

“No, for her soul! She looks like she’s cursed!” Lucia whispered loudly, crossing herself.

Hearing her comments , I feel like she will not throw us out but will surely gang up with the younger clan.

Divya, still lying in the flowerbed, waved her hands. “I’m fine! Totally fine! Just… admiring the flowers! Very up close!”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as Mahir chuckled softly beside me. “Let’s just go inside before Signora Lucia brings out holy water.”

We left Divya to her flowerbed redemption arc, following the old couple inside as the couple babbled about rooms, risotto, and, apparently, how Divya had “brought life” to their front yard.

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