Happy reading â¨
As Aadish finished speaking, Revti's gaze shifted towards her three little ones, barely more than babies, still curled up with their legs clasped in that familiar way children do. Her mind lingered on the innocence etched into their tiny frames, the way they moved, almost synchronized in their mannerisms.
"Batao ab..." (Now tell me...) Aadish spoke again, this time his voice laced with both mischief and a hint of concern. There was an unspoken tension between them, a shared understanding of the playful chaos their children often brought to their lives.
On one side, Rudra and Onay exchanged quick, uncertain glances, their eyes darting towards Armaan, who stood between them like an unintended mediator. Their expressions, though silent, screamed in unison, *"Maa sa, bhai sa, humari koi galti nahi hai... ye toh Armaan bhai sa hai!"* (*Mother, brother, it's not our fault... it's Armaan bhai's doing!*) They didn't dare voice it aloud though. Despite their playful accusations, they couldn't betray their elder brother-not the one who always shielded them, even if his teasing and pranks were sometimes the cause of their mischief. After all, who would entertain Armaan's antics if not them?
The air was thick with their quiet loyalty, an unbreakable bond only siblings could share.
"Armaan," his mother called softly, her eyes full of questions. Armaan, like a well-behaved child, simply nodded in acceptance, admitting his mistakes with a gentle tilt of his head.
But in the next moment, he launched into an enthusiastic explanation, his words tumbling out in one continuous stream. "Maa sa, sirf hum nahi, balki ye dono balko ka bhi haath hai," (Mother, it wasn't just me, but these two little rascals also had a hand in it). "Humne to kaha tha ki hum unhe self-defense sikhate hai... Jab Aadish bhai sa ek hafte ke liye bahar gaye huye the..." (I had only said I'd teach them self-defense... when Aadish bhai went away for a week...) "Magar in dono ne kaha ki self-defense ke saath unhe gun aur baki sari cheeze handle karna bhi sikhaye..." (But these two insisted I teach them how to handle guns and other stuff along with self-defense...) "Aur sach kahe to, hume bilkul yakeen nahi tha ki vo bas ek baar sikhi hui cheez itni perfection ke saath kar sakti hai." (And honestly, I never believed that she could do something she learned just once with such perfection.)
His face, all the while, displayed a mixture of innocence and genuine disbelief, especially at the thought of Avantika pulling off something so skillfully.
Revtiâs lips curled into a subtle smirk, her thoughts wandering to the chaos sheâd just envisioned. Across from her, Ansh Rajawat, the ever-composed father, struggled to stifle his amusement. The expression on his face said it allâ*bro, sheâs destined to be a queen, and this is merely a glimpse of what sheâs capable of*. He knew his wife better than anyoneâdelicate like a flower when standing beside him, yet with a core of steel forged through her own unimaginable deeds.
Finally, Aadish broke the silence, his voice laced with mock surprise. "Maa sa, dekhiye, Hume bhi nhi btaya tha" (Mother, look, even we werenât told about this).
Revti, ever the proud mother, shot him a firm but pleased look. Her reply, delivered with a quiet authority, carried the weight of her unshakable belief. "Inhone kuchh galt nahi kiya hai" (She hasnât done anything wrong), she said, her voice unwavering. "Unhe khud ki aur dusro ki suraksha karni aani chahiye" (She should know how to protect herself and others).
Her words held convictionâa lesson ingrained in her children, not just in the art of protection, but in the wisdom of knowing when and how to use it. She took pride in the strength she saw reflected in them, a reflection of her own resilience.
Aadish, slightly worried now, glanced at his mother and said, "Maa sa, dekhiye, vo ab aawaj ki vajah se behosh ho gayi" (Mother, look, she fainted because of the noise).
His mother, with a caring look in her eyes, calmly replied, "Vo behosh is vajah se nahi, balki blood sugar low hone ki vajah se huyi hai aur unhone khana bhi nahi khaya, beta ji..." (She didnât faint because of the noise, but because her blood sugar dropped, and she hasnât eaten anything, my dear...).
"Magar kyun?" (But why?) Aadish asked, his tension rising. The thought of her skipping meals made his stomach churn, remembering the last time something similar had happened at his office.
"Kyun ki vo bhul gayi," (Because she forgot) his mother replied casually, as if it were an everyday occurrence and nothing worth worrying about.
"Khana khana bhul gayi?" (She forgot to eat?) Aadish asked again, still seeking confirmation. He couldnât believe how nonchalant his mother was about this.
"Ha, bhul gayi, konsi badi baat hai?" (Yes, she forgot. Whatâs the big deal?) Aadish's mother asked, slightly offended by his reaction to the missed meal.
Meanwhile, their father, who had been holding back laughter for what felt like decades, finally let it escape. He knew all too well that his wife wasnât as "cool" about her quirky, not-so-usual habits as she pretended to be.
As his laughter filled the room, all five of them turned to stare at himâespecially his wife, who now looked more offended than ever. Her expression shifted to a warning glare, as if daring him to say anything further.
But before he could rein in his laughter or respond to her death stare, his son broke the tension with a question, cutting through the humor of the moment.
As Ansh let out a rare, hearty laugh, his son Aadish couldnât help but stare in surprise. Ansh was not known for laughing so freely, so this moment felt odd yet intriguing to everyone. Aadish couldn't hold back his curiosity, asking, âBaba, aap kyun hash rahe hai?â (Father, why are you laughing?) His voice held genuine confusion, which mirrored the expressions of the other brothers, who were equally eager to uncover the reason behind their father's sudden amusement.
Ansh took a breath, still chuckling to himself before he finally shared the thought that had been swirling in his mind. "Is ghar mein pehli saas-bahu ki jodi kuchh zyada hi milti hai... Aadish," (This house seems to have the first mother-in-law and daughter-in-law pair in abundance... Aadish) he remarked, his words leaving the room in stunned silence. Four pairs of eyes blinked back at him, confusion etched across the faces of his sons. What was Baba talking about?
Rudra, the most outspoken of the brothers, was the first to speak up. "Kya?" (What?) he asked, his brow furrowed.
Ansh, glancing over at his wife Revti with a soft smile, spoke again, this time offering a slightly apologetic tone. "Ji ha, aapki maa bhi bhool jati thi khana khana," (Yes, your mother used to forget to eat too) he revealed, his words drawing laughter from the brothers, but an embarrassed flush from Revti. She turned to glare at him, her face a mix of anger and mortification, though a tiny hint of affection lingered behind her stern expression.
The room was now filled with a new energyâa light-heartedness that had been absent for a while. Despite her embarrassment, Revti couldn't completely mask her amusement as she scolded Ansh silently with her eyes, and he, in turn, gave her a sheepish grin. It was one of those moments, where the history of the parents became a cherished memory for the children, who suddenly saw their elders in a different lightâmore human, more relatable, and just a little bit vulnerable.
They all looked at their mom. Every eye in the room was fixed on her, and, feeling cornered, she frantically searched for ways to hide from their stares. After all, she was the one who constantly lectured them about eating on time, yet now she found herself caught in her own contradiction.
"Ha to, khana khana bhoolte hai, kaam to nahi," (Yes, I might forget to eat, but I donât forget my work) she said, trying to sound serious, attempting to divert the focus back on how dedicated she was to her responsibilities. As for the food, well, her husband could handle that much. "Khane ka kya hai, vo to pati dev jhil hi dete hai na." (What's the big deal about food? My husband manages that anyway.)
"Maa sa!" her four sons exclaimed in unison, suddenly worried about their mother's health. The tension in their voices was clearâthey couldnât believe their ever-diligent mom was neglecting herself like this.
As she was about to respond, her gaze shifted toward the stairs behind them, where Avantika was descending. Instantly, every eye in the room followed her movement.
Aadish moved to help, but before he could, Rudra stepped forward to stand beside Avantika, a mischievous glint in his eye as he glanced at the others.
"Bhabhi sa, aap theek to hain na? Aapko chot to nahi aayi na?" (Sister-in-law, are you alright? Did you get hurt?) Rudra asked with genuine concern.
Avantika simply smiled in response.
"Dekhiye, kaha tha na humne, bhai sa, aapka khayal nahi rakh paye. Next time se aap hume apne saath rakhiye ga..." (You see, we told you, brother, that we couldnât take care of you. Next time, keep us with you...) she added, her gaze locking with Aadishâs. She knew jealousy was his weak point, but this time, he wasnât feeling envious. Instead, he was admiring her, his family, and his world with a newfound appreciation.
Avantika glanced at Rudraâs face as he stood beside her. Revti, their mother, interjected gently, âRudra, tang na karo, un dono ko niche aao.â (Rudra, donât bother them, come downstairs with her.)
As Rudra and Avantika descended, Revti guided Avantika to a nearby sofa and motioned for her to sit. Once she was settled, Revti approached her with a soft tone, "Are you fine? Aap theek hain?" (Are you alright?) While gently stroking Avantikaâs head, Revtiâs tender care enveloped her. Avantika felt overwhelmed by the affection and love she had always longed for, the kind she was now receiving from the woman before her. Yet, she was aware of her own boundaries and limitations.
Avantika slightly nodded and offered a soft smile. Behind her, Aadish stood, making it clear that she was the one he wanted in his lifeâno one else would take her place.
Revti stood firm, her voice cutting through the tension with a decisive edge. "Ab aap dubara uss jagah nahi jayegi" (You will not go to that place again), she declared, her final statement leaving no room for argument.
Avantikaâs protest was immediate, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and determination. "But auntyâ"
Before she could finish, Revti interrupted, her tone softening only slightly but carrying an unmistakable note of urgency. "It's not safe for you anymore, bachha" (child).
Avantika tried to continue, her desperation evident in her voice. "Aunty, mujhe jaana chahiye" (Aunty, I need to go)â
Revti's response was firm yet caring. "Kuchh waqt mere saath ruk jao" (Stay with me for some time). She understood Avantika's nature wellâher independence, her refusal to be easily controlled. While this trait served her well in many situations, today it was a matter of safety. Revti knew that her words had to balance firmness with compassion, for she saw the value in Avantika's spirit but was equally aware of the dangers that lay ahead.
SUkriya ji ð
Love you all ð
From next Sunday will update as it was before ji ð