It was early morning at the Malhotra residence. The kitchen was quiet except for the soft clink of utensils against plates. Veer had changed into a fresh kurta, and Shriya with the help of Smita had made aloo parathas with extra butter, just the way he liked them. They sat at the small breakfast table in the corner, not eating at the usual dining table.
Smita aunty had gone for her morning walk with the neighborhood ladies, and Vikram uncle was in his study, on a call with someone in Singapore. The house felt unusually peaceful.
"Yeh aapko kam namak laga?" Shriya asked, watching Veer take his first bite.
"Nahi, bilkul perfect hai." He took another bite, closing his eyes briefly in appreciation. "Sach mein bahut accha bana hai."
" Thanks woh maine... umm.. Mummyji ne madad ki" she said.
Shriya smiled, pleased, and began eating her own paratha. They sat in silence for a moment before Veer spoke again, his voice lower.
"Shriya ji?"
"Ji?"
He hesitated, pushing a piece of paratha around his plate. "Woh... Akshay bhaiyya ke baare mein... you noticed, right? Ki woh ghar pe nahi hai?"
Shriya's expression grew concerned. She set down her fork carefully. "Haan. Chaar din ho gaye na? Mummyji bahut worried hain, par Papaji ke saamne kuch bolti nahi."
"Haan." Veer's jaw tightened. "Papa gusse mein hain still. Kehte hain 'agar aana hi nahi tha toh bataa deta, we wouldn't have called Jeevika's family.'"
"Par..." Shriya lowered her voice further, glancing toward the kitchen door to make sure no one was coming. "Par kya hua tha us din? I mean, maine suna sabne kaha ki Akshay bhaiyya bahut rude the, unhone properly baat bhi nahi ki Jeevika ji se. Par itna gussa... woh toh normally aise nahi hain na?"
Veer sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Main bhi nahi samjha. Akshay bhaiyya is usually so calm, so... in control. Par us din woh aaye, dekha Jeevika ko, aur bas... it was like something snapped. Unhone Papa se bhi behes kar di, bola ki 'main apni life khud decide karunga' aur nikal gaye."
"Aapne unse baat ki?" Shriya asked gently.
"Koshish ki. Messages bheje, calls kiye. He replies very briefly. 'I'm fine.' 'Don't worry.' 'Need some space.' That's it." Veer looked genuinely troubled. "We've always been close, you know? Par iss baar... iss baar kuch alag hai. Pehle bhi unhone arranged marriage ke proposals reject kiye hain, par kabhi itna bura react nahi kiya."
Shriya was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Aapko lagta hai... maybe koi aur hai?"
"Koi aur? Matlab?"
"Matlab... maybe Akshay bhaiyya ke already kisi se feelings hain? Ya relationship hai?" She said it carefully, not wanting to overstep. "Isliye unhone itna strong reaction diya?"
Veer considered this, frowning. "Possible toh hai. But I don't think so.. Woh kabhi matlab ladkiyon ke peeche nahi bhagtata tha. " He paused, uncertainty creeping into his voice. "Par woh mujhe batate. Hamesha batate hain sab kuch. At least... I thought woh batate hain."
"Kabhi kabhi," Shriya said softly, "log close family se bhi kuch chhupate hain. Especially agar unhe lagta hai ki batane se problems hongi."
"Par main uska bhai hoon. Main judge nahi karunga. Main toh—" Veer stopped himself, shaking his head. "You're right. Maybe he has his reasons for not telling us."
"Aap pareshan hain na unke liye," Shriya observed, seeing the tension in his shoulders.
"Haan. Bahut." Veer took a sip of water. "Mummy roz raat ko Papa se chhup ke usse call karti hain. Sirf yeh confirm karne ke liye ki woh theek hai. Aur Papa... Papa toh gussa toh bahut hain, par I can see ki woh bhi worried hain. Kabhi kabhi bhaiyya waha Nimmi maasi aur Maan Bhaiyya ke paas visit karne jaate."
" Definitely, woh office bhi ja rahe hain regularly. Bas yahan nahi aa rahe." Veer's voice was heavy with concern. "Ghar nahi aa rahe apne."
Shriya reached across the table and, after a moment's hesitation, placed her hand gently on his. "Woh aa jayenge. Akshay bhaiyya ko bas thoda time chahiye shayad. Sab theek ho jayega."
Veer looked down at her hand on his, and some of the tension seemed to leave his face. "I hope so." He turned his hand over, giving hers a gentle squeeze. "Thank you."
"Kis liye?"
"Listening. Caring about my family. You didn't have to, but..." He smiled slightly. "Aap bahut sweet hain, Shriya ji."
She blushed, withdrawing her hand. "Arrey, ab yeh bhi koi baat hai? Woh ab meri bhi family hai na."
They heard footsteps approaching, Smita aunty returning from her walk. and both straightened up, picking up their hands again to eat paratha.
"Veer? Beta, tu yahan hai? Main toh samjhi tum office chala gaye," Smita said, walking into the kitchen and stopping short when she saw them. Her eyes immediately went to Veer's plate, then to Shriya.
"Haan Aunty, humne dono ne saath mein khaya," Shriya said quickly.
Smita's expression softened, and she came over to pat Shriya's head affectionately. "Accha kiya. Yeh ladka agar ghar pe hai toh bhool jaata hai khana." She paused, her voice dropping slightly. "Akshay se koi baat hui?"
Veer shook his head. "Nahi Mummy. Woh abhi bhi... space chahiye use."
Smita sighed heavily, and for a moment she looked tired. "Tere Papa ko kehna beta, ki zyada gussa na karein. Bachha hai woh bhi. Aayega wapas." Her voice wavered slightly. "Aayega na?"
"Aayega Mummy, pakka," Veer assured her, standing up to give her a quick hug. "Don't worry."
As Smita moved away to make herself tea, Veer and Shriya exchanged a glance. The worry in his eyes was clear.
"Veer ji," Shriya whispered when Smita's back was turned. "Agar aap chahein toh... aap Akshay ji se milne jaa sakte hain. Directly unke office. Maybe face to face baat karne se..."
"Main yahi soch raha tha," Veer admitted quietly. "Par Papa ne bola hai ki nahi jaana. Let him come when he's ready."
"Aur aap?"
Veer was quiet for a moment, then made a decision. "Main jaa raha hoon. Aaj shaam ko, office ke baad. Papa ko batana mat. Agar Mummy poochein toh—"
"Late meeting," Shriya filled in immediately, and despite the serious situation, Veer felt a rush of gratitude for how quickly she understood.
"Haan. Late meeting."
"Aur Veer ji?" Shriya added, her voice very soft. "Whatever it is... jo bhi reason hai Akshay bhaiyya ka... aap unka support karna. Haan?"
He looked at her, this woman who'd been part of his family for barely a 6 months, who was already thinking of his brother's wellbeing, who instinctively knew exactly what he needed to hear.
"Haan," he promised. "Karunga."
A few hours later, in Veer's home office room. Veer adjusted his laptop screen for the third time, making sure the angle was professional. Behind him, his home office wall displayed his MBA degree and a few tasteful corporate awards.
"Right, so if we look at the Q4 projections—" he was saying, gesturing at the spreadsheet he'd shared on screen.
On the video call, five faces stared back at him: Rajesh from Finance, Priya from Marketing, Karthik and Ananya from Sales, and the CFO, Mr. Joshi.
"Sir, the numbers are looking good," Rajesh said, adjusting his glasses. "Revenue is up 23% from last quarter—"
"Haan, but we need to discuss the margin compression," Mr. Joshi interrupted. "Raw material costs have increased significantly. Veer, what's your strategy for mitigation?"
"Right, so I've been looking at alternative suppliers—" Veer pulled up another document. "If we can negotiate better terms with the Bangalore vendor, we can potentially reduce costs by 15-18%—"
The door to his office opened softly.
Veer's words died in his throat.
Shriya stood in the doorway, looking apologetic, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of chai and some biscuits. She was in a simple yellow kurta, her hair in a loose braid, and she mouthed silently: "Sorry, sorry!"
"Uh—" Veer's brain short-circuited. "I—the supplier—Bangalore—"
"Sir?" Priya's voice came through the laptop. "Aap keh rahe the?"
"Haan! Haan, main—supplier—" Why couldn't he form sentences? Shriya was just standing there, looking adorable , and his entire vocabulary had apparently abandoned him.
Shriya pointed at the chai, then at his desk, raising her eyebrows in question: Should I leave it?
Veer nodded vigorously, because Mr. Joshi frowned. "Veer, sab theek hai? You seem distracted."
"Nahi nahi, bilkul theek hoon!" Veer stood up. "Main bas—ek second—"
He meant to walk around his desk smoothly, professionally, to take the tray from Shriya so she could leave and he could regain his ability to speak in complete sentences.
Veer's brain short-circuited immediately.
"—demographic data aur consumer behavior patterns integrate kar raha hoon, toh kal subah tak ready ho jayega—" Karthik was still talking on screen.
But Veer wasn't listening anymore. His entire attention was on Shriya, who smiled at him softly and whispered, "Aapki chai, Veer ji. Aap teen ghante se continuously kaam kar rahe hain."
"Main... woh... meeting..." Veer gestured vaguely at his laptop, his ears already turning red.
On screen, someone cleared their throat. "Sir? Sir, aap sun rahe hain?"
Shriya's eyes went wide with mortification. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Main... main bahar—"
She started backing toward the door, but Veer stood up abruptly, his chair rolling back.
"Nahi nahi, it's okay! Main... main le leta hoon chai—"
He started walking around the desk toward her, forgetting entirely about the rug, the expensive Persian rug his bua had insisted on placing in his office because "beta, office mein bhi thoda elegance hona chahiye."
His foot caught in the corner.
"Veer ji—!" Shriya saw him stumbling and instinctively reached out to steady him.
But Veer, in his attempt to not spill onto her, overcorrected. His arms windmilled. The chai tray went flying. And Shriya, in a desperate attempt to catch him, grabbed the first thing her hands found...
His waistband.
Veer felt his formal trousers, already a bit loose because he'd lost weight recently. start to slide down.
On the laptop screen, pairs of eyes widened in horror.
"OH NO—" Shriya yanked her hands back like she'd been burned, which unfortunately gave the pants more momentum. "I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M—"
"SHRIYA JI!" Veer caught his waistband with both hands, one hand also somehow catching Shriya's elbow to steady her, his face now the color of a ripe tomato. "Please! Just—just go! I mean—not go, but—meeting hai! Outside! Bahar! Please!"
She muttered a quick apology and walked away immediately.
"Toh," Veer said, sitting back down carefully and adjusting his pants with as much dignity as he could muster . "Where... where were we?"
"Sir," Priya said, her voice shaking with suppressed laughter, "I think we were on market expansion?"
"Right. Yes. Market expansion." Veer pulled up the slide again, refusing to make eye contact with any of them. "So as I was saying—"
"Sir?" Rajesh had turned his camera back on. His eyes were dancing with mirth. "Actually, I think we have enough for today. Detailed notes share kar denge. Aap... aap apni chai enjoy karein. With Bhabhi ji."
"Haan haan, sir," Ananya jumped in quickly. "We can continue this tomorrow. Clear ho gaya hai mostly."
"Are you sure? We still need to discuss—"
"Pakka sure, sir!" Priya was grinning now. "Aur sir, ek advice? Next time maybe... belt? Suspenders?"
The entire team burst out laughing.
Veer dropped his head into his hands. "You're all fired."
"Noted, sir!" Karthilk saluted. "We'll update our CVs. After we stop laughing."
"Goodbye. Meeting dismissed. Please forget this happened."
"Never happening, sir!" someone called out cheerfully.
Veer slammed the laptop shut and groaned into his hands.
He took a deep breath, stood up, checked that his pants were secure, and made his way downstairs.
Shriya was in the kitchen, pouring fresh chai, her eyes diverted away.
" Shriya ji.. sorry woh mai --" he started
" Gande pati! Aap... aap mujhse aise baat kar rahe hain?" she snapped dramatically.. "Main toh bas aapke liye chai layi thi, aur aap mujhe nikal rahe hain?"
Veer was shocked at her outburst.
"Nahi! Main nahi nikal raha—" he fumbled.
"NIKAL RAHE HAIN!" Shriya's voice went up dramatically, "Gande pati! Aise baat karte hain humse! Main itni mehnat se chai banayi! Biscuits bhi nikale! Aur aap—aap—"
"Shriya ji, please, rona nahi—" Veer was fumbling.
"Main toh bas—meeting chal rahi thi na, toh—"
"TOH KYA?" Shriya sobbed. "Toh meeting mujhe zyada important hai? Mujhse zyada?"
"NAHI! Obviously nahi! Aap sabse zyada important hain!"
" Sorry mai aise.." he said sheepishly.
"Aur aap sorry bol rahe hai?"
"Bilkul bolunga! Sau baar! Par please, abhi bas—"
"Theek hai." Shriya sniffled again, then bent to pick up the chai cup which had miraculously not broken. "Par main neeche doosri chai bana ke laaungi. Yeh toh gir gayi."
"Nahi nahi, it's okay—"
She sniffed dramatically. "Gande pati," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear. "Itna pyaar se chai banayi..."
"Shriya ji," Veer started softly.
She didn't look at him.
"Main... main sorry hoon. Sach mein." He moved closer, hands clasped in front of him like a guilty schoolboy. "Main rudely nahi bol raha tha. Main bas... bahut embarrassed ho gaya tha. Aur panic ho gaya. Par woh aapki galti nahi thi. Bilkul bhi nahi."
Shriya still didn't look at him, but her lips twitched slightly.
"Aapne itni mehnat se chai banayi," Veer continued earnestly. "Aur biscuits bhi nikale. Aur main... main aapse aise bola. I'm really, really sorry. Main bahut bura husband hoon."
"Haan," Shriya said quietly. "Bahut bure ho aap."
"Haan. Worst. Sabse gande."
"Humse aise baat karte hain."
"I know. Bahut galat kiya."
"Aur humari feelings ki koi value hi nahi hai aapke liye."
"Bilkul hai! Bahut zyada value hai!"
Finally, Shriya turned to face him. Her eyes were still wet, but now they were sparkling with something that looked suspiciously like amusement.
"Sacchi?"
"Sacchi! Cross my heart!" Veer made the motion over his chest. "Aapki feelings sabse important hain. Meetings se bhi zyada. Business se bhi zyada. Even my pants staying up se bhi zyada—"
"Main daant nahi raha hoon! I swear, main bas—aap misunderstand—" Veer was hovering around her helplessly, his hands fluttering. "Please, please don't cry, main bilkul bhi—I didn't mean—aap please—"
"Humse pyaar nahi karte aap!" Shriya sobbed louder. "Tabhi toh humein bahar bhej rahe hai!"
"MAIN AAPSE BAHUT—" Veer stopped himself just in time, his face going even redder. "I mean—aapko bahar isliye nahi bhej raha kyunki main angry hoon! Main embarrassed hoon! Mere team ne dekha ki maine—ki aapne—ki HUM DONO ne—"
Suddenly, Shriya's shoulders stopped shaking.
She peeked at him from between her fingers.
And giggled.
Veer froze. "Aap... aap ro nahi rahi ho?"
"Nahi." Shriya dropped her hands, full-on grinning now, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Main toh mazaak kar rahi thi."
"MAZAAK?" Veer's voice came out as a squeak. "Aap—aap acting kar rahi thi?"
"Haan!" She laughed, a clear, bright sound.
"Shriya ji!" Veer didn't know whether to laugh or die of embarrassment. "Aap.. yeh—aap—"
"Sorry, sorry!" She was still giggling. "Par you were so cute, all panicked and—"
Before he could process what was happening, Shriya reached up and pinched his cheek.
"Good boy," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Abhi meeting khatam hogayi toh Crime Branch Office chalte na. "
And with that, she turned and walked out, still giggling to herself, leaving the spilled chai and scattered biscuits behind.
Veer stood frozen in his office, one hand still unconsciously holding his pants up, the other touching his head where she'd patted it.
His shy, quiet wife had just pranked him.
A slow, smile spread across his face.
Then he started laughing. Full-on, bend-over laughing, because what even was his life?
From the doorway, he heard Shriya's voice drift back: "Veer ji! Chalo!"
"Haan! Haan, aa raha hoon!" he called back, still grinning.
..........................................
It was dark outside as Veer pulled his car into the parking lot of Mumbai Crime Branch. Shriya fidgeted with her dupatta nervously. "Veer ji, aapko lagta hai yeh theek hai? I mean, unhe office mein disturb karna..."
"He's avoiding us at home. Yahan toh woh aa hi rahe hain." Veer turned off the engine and looked at her. "Aur waise bhi, you were right. Face to face baat karni chahiye."
They both got out of the car and waited near the entrance. Veer had checked Akshay's schedule, he was supposed to finish his shift at 9 PM today.
At 9:15, the main doors opened and Akshay emerged, still in his uniform, his badge glinting under the streetlights. He was talking to a junior officer, giving some last-minute instructions, when his eyes landed on Veer and Shriya standing by the gate.
His footsteps faltered for just a second.
The junior officer left, and Akshay slowly walked toward them, his expression carefully neutral. "Veer. Shriya bhabhi." His voice was controlled, professional. "Tum dono yahan?"
"Bhaiyya," Veer started, his voice carrying a mix of relief and frustration at seeing his brother after four days. "Aap... aap theek hain?"
"Main bilkul theek hoon." Akshay's jaw was tight. "Ghar pe problem thi kya? Mummy theek hain? Papa?"
"Sab theek hain," Shriya said softly, stepping forward. "Par aap chaar din se ghar nahi aaye. Mummy ji bahut worried hain."
"Maine Mummy ko message kiya hai. Maine bataya hai main theek hoon." he replied flatly.
"Message se kaam nahi chalta, bhaiyya!" Veer's voice rose slightly, then he caught himself, lowering it. "Aap... aap aise suddenly kaise nikal sakte hain? Woh bhi itne gusse mein? Jeevika ka toh I understand, aapko pasand nahi aayi, it's fine. Par behes karna, aur phir ghar hi nahi aana—"
"Veer." Akshay's voice cut through like a knife. "Meri personal life mein please interfere mat karo."
Veer looked like he'd been slapped. "Personal life? Bhaiyya, main aapka bhai hoon—"
"Exactly. Tum mere bhai ho. Mera baap nahi." Akshay's tone was harder now. "I am an adult. Main apne decisions khud le sakta hoon."
"Koi yeh nahi keh raha ki aap nahi le sakte," Shriya interjected gently, her teacher voice coming through. "Par bhaiyya, family ko toh batana chahiye na agar koi problem hai? Agar aap share karenge toh shayad.."
"Shriya bhabhi," Akshay's voice softened when he addressed her.
"I appreciate your concern. Sach mein. Par kuch cheezein... kuch cheezein aise hoti hain jo share nahi ki ja sakti."
"Kyun nahi?" Veer demanded. "Bhaiyya, hum family hain. Kya hai jo aap hume nahi bata sakte?"
Akshay looked at his younger brother.
"Bas nahi bata sakta," Akshay said firmly. "Aur main request kar raha hoon, tum dono please ghar jaao. Aur Mummy ko kehna ki main theek hoon. Main... main jaldi hi aaunga."
"Kab?" Shriya asked quietly.
"Jab time hoga."
"Yeh koi jawab nahi hai!" Veer's frustration was evident now. "Bhaiyya, aap humse kuch chhupa rahe hain. Main dekh sakta hoon. Kya hai? Kya hua us din Jeevika ke saath? Usne kuch kaha? Kuch kiya?"
Akshay's expression darkened. "Veer, bas. Enough."
"Nahi, enough nahi hai! Aap mujhse hamesha sab share karte the. Hamesha! Par ab achanak—"
"Things change, Veer!" Akshay's voice rose for the first time, and a few passing officers glanced their way. He took a breath, visibly controlling himself. "Log change hote hain. Situations change hoti hain. Aur sometimes... sometimes there are things bigger than family dinners and Mummy ki worry."
"Bhaiyya..." Shriya stepped closer, her voice incredibly gentle. "Jo bhi hai... whatever it is... aap akele nahi hain. Hum hain na. Veer ji hain, Mummyji, Papaji hain. Agar aap share—"
"Main share nahi kar sakta." Akshay's voice was almost pleading now, and that scared Veer more than the anger had. "Please, Shriya bhabhi. Please samjhiye. Main... main nahi bata sakta."
"Kya nahi bata sakte?" Veer pressed. "Bhaiyya, kya hai? Koi... koi problem hai? Duty mein? Kisi case mein aap fass gaye hain kya?"
"Nahi!" Akshay said quickly. "Nahi, duty mein sab theek hai."
"Toh phir?"
"Bhaiyya, aap soya bhi hain properly?" Shriya asked, her concern deepening. "Aap... aap theek toh lag nahi rahe hain."
"Main theek hoon," Akshay insisted, but his voice lacked conviction. "Bus... bas thoda stressed hoon. Work."
"Ghar aao," Veer said simply. "Bhaiyya, please. Ghar aao. You don't have to tell us anything. You don't have to explain. Just... just ghar toh aao. Apne kamre mein rehna, kisi se baat mat karna agar nahi karni, par kam se kam Mummy ko toh shaanti milegi."
Akshay closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, there was such conflict there that Veer's chest tightened.
"Main... main nahi aa sakta. Abhi nahi."
"Kyun nahi?" Shriya asked, and there was no accusation in her voice, only pure concern. "Bhaiyya, agar aap bataayenge toh—"
"Kyunki agar main aaya, toh Papa phir se Jeevika ki baat karenge!" Akshay burst out, then immediately looked like he regretted it. "Toh woh... woh aur rishte laayenge. Aur expectations hongi. Aur main... main abhi yeh sab nahi handle kar sakta."
"Toh hum unhe rokega," Veer said immediately. "Main Papa se baat karunga. You don't have to—"
"Nahi, Veer. Tu nahi samjh raha." Akshay's voice was heavy with something Veer couldn't identify. "Tu nahi rok sakta. Nobody can. Papa ne decide kar liya hai ki mujhe settle hona chahiye. Aur jab tak main unhe ek solid reason nahi dunga..." He trailed off.
"Toh reason do," Shriya said quietly.
Akshay looked at her, and something in his expression cracked just a little. "Main nahi de sakta, bhabhi. I wish I could, but I can't."
Finally, Akshay straightened his shoulders, his mask sliding back into place. "Tum dono ghar jaao. Please. Aur Shriya bhabhi, Veer ..." He looked at them directly. "Mummy ka dhyaan rakhna. Woh zyada stress leti hain. Unhe meri pills yaad dilana, green bottle, morning mein ek, raat mein ek. Woh bhool jaati hain kabhi kabhi."
"Aap khud aa ke yaad dilao," Veer said, his voice breaking slightly. "Bhaiyya, please."
Akshay's expression softened for just a moment as he looked at his younger brother. He reached out and briefly squeezed Veer's shoulder.
"Jaldi," he promised, though his eyes said something else. "I promise. Bas... bas mujhe thoda time do. Please."
With that, he turned and walked toward his car parked nearby, not looking back.
"Woh jhooth bol rahe the," Veer said quietly, still staring at the spot where Akshay had disappeared. "Kuch toh hai. Kuch bada."
"Haan," Shriya agreed softly, slipping her hand into his. "Par jab tak woh khud bataana nahi chahenge... hum kuch nahi kar sakte."
Veer turned to look at her, his eyes troubled. "Agar... agar kuch serious hai? Koi problem mein hain woh?"
"Toh woh hume bataayenge," Shriya said with more confidence than she felt. "Akshay bhaiyya smart hain. Agar unhe help chahiye hogi, woh maangenge."
But as they walked back to the car, Shriya couldn't shake the image of Akshay's face. The exhaustion, the desperation, and anger she'd seen in his eyes when Veer had mentioned Jeevika.
........................................................................................................
Mishti Banerjee was in the middle of draping fabric on her dress form, pins held between her lips, when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and saw the school's number flash across it.
Her heart immediately dropped.
She spat the pins into her hand and grabbed the phone. "Hello?"
"Ms. Banerjee? This is Principal Mehra."
"Ji, Principal ma'am. Kya hua? Pihu theek toh hai?" Her voice was already rising with worry.
"Physically, she's fine. However, there's been a serious incident. Pihu has... she's hit another student. Quite hard, from what I understand. I need you to come to school immediately."
Mishti's world tilted. "I'm sorry, WHAT? Pihu ne... Pihu ne kisi ko maara?"
"Yes. I need you here as soon as possible to discuss this. The other child's parents are also being called."
"Main... main abhi aayi!" Mishti hung up, her hands shaking.
Pihu? Her Pihu? The child who cried when they accidentally stepped on an ant? Who made her stop the car once to pick up a puppy.
Lieutenant Abhimanyu Khanna was in the middle of a tactical briefing on INS Angre when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it, because of protocol during briefings. However, when it rang a second time immediately after, his commanding officer gave him a pointed look.
"Sir, sorry sir," Abhi muttered, stepping out to take the call. "Khanna speaking."
"Mr. Khanna? This is Principal Mehra. I'm calling regarding Pihu Banerjee."
Abhi's entire body went on alert. "Kya hua? She's okay?"
"She's fine, but there's been an incident. She's hit another student and we need you here immediately. You're listed as an emergency contact."
"She HIT someone?" Abhi's voice rose in disbelief. "Pihu? Are you sure we're talking about the same kid? Four years old, curly hair?"
"Yes, Mr. Khanna. The same child. Please come to school as soon as you can."
"I'm on my way." He hung up and stuck his head back into the briefing room. "Sir, family emergency. Permission to leave?"
His CO nodded. "Go."
Abhi was already running.
He got into his car and immediately called the one person who would lose her mind at this news.
"Nimmi maasi!"
"Abhi beta! Kya hua? Tu itna breathless kyun—"
"Pihu ne school mein kisi ko maara."
"WHAAAAAT?! MERI PIHU NE?! Impossible! That child is an angel! A literal ANGEL! Kisi ne zaroor kuch kiya hoga uske saath! Oh my GOD, main abhi aayi! Which school? Haan haan, pata hai! Main—wait, tu already ja raha hai na?" Nimmi shrieked.
"Haan maasi, I'm driving—"
she grinned. "Arre wah! Kis se ladhi? Kisko maara?"
"MAASI! This is serious!"
"Haan haan, very serious. Main bhi chal rahi hoon." She grabbed her purse. "Uss bachhi ko support chahiye hogi. Aur agar koi usse daant raha hoga—"
"Maasi, please, we need to be responsible adults—"
Abhimanyu held the phone away from his ear as Nimmi Maasi's voice reached decibels that could probably be heard in the neighboring state.
"HAMARI PIHU KO KYA HUA? KISNE KUCH KAHA? KISNE HAATH LAGAYA? TU GAADI NIKAAL ABHI KE ABHI! MAIN DO MINUTE MEIN READY HOON!"
"Maasi, main already gaadi mein hoon—"
"TOH IDHAR AA! MUJHE BHI LEKE CHAL! MAIN AKELI JAANE NAHI DUNGI USSE! AUR SUN—" Her voice became muffled as she clearly turned away from the phone. "PUSHPA! PUSHPA, MERI CHAPPAL NIKAAL! PINK WAALI! NAHI NAHI, DOOSRI PINK WAALI! HAAN WAHI!"
"Maasi, please, thoda calm—"
"TU MUJHE CALM DOWN BOLEGA? TERI HIMMAT KAISE HUI? TU GAADI SEEDHA GHAR LAA! MAIN NEECHE WAIT KARUNGI! AUR HAAN, SPEED MEIN CHALA! RULES-SHMULES BAAD MEIN DEKHENGE!"
She hung up before he could protest.
Abhimanyu sighed, already changing his route toward the apartment. There was no point arguing.
He'd barely pulled up to her building when she came barreling out, all five feet two inches of her, wearing a bright pink salwar kameez and the most determined expression he'd ever seen. She had her purse in one hand and her phone in the other.
She yanked open the car door and climbed in. "Chal! Fast!"
"Maasi, pehle seatbelt—"
"SEATBELT BAAD MEIN! DRIVE!"
Abhimanyu knew better than to argue. He started driving while Nimmi Maasi fumbled with her seatbelt, muttering under her breath.
"Kisi ne haath lagaya hoga hamari bachhi ko... main dekhungi... main sabko dekhungi... principal-shincipal sab sunenge mujhse..."
"Maasi, hume abhi tak pata nahi kya hua hai exactly—"
"Toh pata lagayenge! Par main bata rahi hoon, agar kissi ne Pihu ke saath kuch galat kiya na, toh main school ko aag laga dungi! Principal ke saamne hi!"
"Maasi, please, arson is illegal—"
"Illegal-shillegal! Tu dekh apni driving! Aur yeh signal pe kyun ruka? Yellow pe bhi jaate hain log!"
"Because that's illegal! Main naval officer hoon, main traffic rules tod nahi sakta!"
"Haww, rules? Pihu mushkil mein hai aur tu rules ki baat kar raha hai? Main ne tujhe aise sanskaar diye?"
As they drove, Nimmi Maasi began furiously dialing on her phone.
"Maasi, aap kisko message kar rahe ho?"
"Aaravi ko phone kar rahi hoon. Usse bhi aana chahiye. Woh bhi toh Pihu ki family hai."
Aaravi was in her Contemporary Political Theory lecture, diligently taking notes, when her phone buzzed.
She glanced down.
Nimmi Maasi calling...
She frowned and declined it. Maasi knew she had classes.
It rang again immediately.
Aaravi's stomach clenched. Nimmi maasi never called twice unless it was urgent.
She raised her hand. "Ma'am, sorry, emergency call. May I?"
Her professor nodded, and Aaravi quickly stepped out into the corridor.
"Maasi? Kya hua?"
"AARAVI BETA! Pihu!" Nimmi's voice was at least three octaves higher than normal. "Pihu ne school mein kisi ko maara aur principal ne sabko bulaya hai aur main ja rahi hoon aur Abhi bhi ja raha hai aur—"
From the phone, Aaravi's shriek: "WHAT? KON THA? MAIN BHI AA RAHI HOON!"
"Haan! Principal ne khud phone kiya! Tujhe bhi aana hoga beta! That baby needs us! Pata nahi kya hua hoga! Kisi ne zaroor kuch kiya hoga uske saath!"
"Maasi, meri class—"
"CLASS?! PIHU zyada important hai ya teri class?!"
"Maasi obviously Pihu but—"
"Toh bas! Nikal! Abhi! Main pohonch rahi hoon!"
Aaravi stood in the corridor for exactly two seconds after Nimmi maasi hung up, weighing her options.
Then she thought of Pihu's little face, those curls , the way she called Aaravi "Aaru mami" and insisted on holding her hand/
She walked back into class, grabbed her bag, mumbled an apology to her professor about a family emergency, and quite literally ran to the parking lot.
Once in the car, she did what she always did when things got serious.
She called her husband.
"Akshay?"
"Aaravi." His voice immediately shifted from professional to concerned. "Kya hua? Everything okay?"
"Pihu... Pihu's school se call aaya. Usne kisi ko maara and I know that sounds ridiculous but principal ne emergency contacts ko bulaya hai and Mishti must be freaking out and Abhi's going and Nimmi maasi is going and I—"
"I'm coming. Abhi. Which school?"
"Bandra. Par Akshay, tumhari duty—"
"Akshay—"
"Main already nikal raha hoon. You're driving there now?"
"Haan."
"Carefully. Properly. Red light pe rukna. Speed limit follow karna."
Despite everything, Aaravi smiled. "Relax, cab le rahi hoon. Haan ji, husband ji."
"I'm serious, Aaravi."
"Main jaanti hoon." Her voice softened. "Thank you."
Akshay stared at his phone for exactly three seconds after hanging up, his mind racing.
He stood up from his desk, grabbed his jacket, and walked straight to his superior's office.
"Sir, family emergency. Need to leave."
His boss looked up. "Kya hua?"
"Niece ke school se call aaya. Urgent."
His boss studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Go. Report tomorrow."
"Thank you, sir."
Akshay was out of Crime Branch in under two minutes, his mind already strategizing.
If this turned into a serious issue, if someone had hurt Pihu, if some teacher had mishandled this, he was fully prepared to use every bit of his authority to rain hell down on that school.
Badge or no badge, official capacity or not.
By the time Mishti pulled into the school parking lot, she was vibrating with anxiety and anger. She parked haphazardly and practically sprinted toward the main building.
She found the principal's office easily.
"Where is she?! Kahaan hai meri Pihu?!"
Principal Mehra looked up from her desk, her expression already tired. "Ms. Banerjee. Thank you for coming so—"
"Pihu!" Mishti ignored the principal entirely, her eyes finding her daughter sitting on a chair against the wall.
Pihu looked small. Her uniform was slightly rumpled, her curls in 2 ponies still perfect as always, but there was a red mark on her arm and her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
Mishti was on her knees in front of her daughter in seconds, her hands running over Pihu's face, her arms, checking for injuries.
"Baby, kya hua? Tujhe lagi? Kahin dard toh nahi ho raha? Kya—"
"Mummy, main theek hoon," Pihu said in a small voice, but her lower lip was trembling.
"Theek? THEEK? Principal ne kaha tune kisi ko maara! Tu kabhi kisi ko nahi maarti! Kya hua exactly?"
"Ms. Banerjee," Principal Mehra's stern voice cut in. "Please sit down. We need to discuss—"
"Discuss? Pehle aap mujhe batao kya hua! Aur yeh—" Mishti's eyes had just landed on the boy sitting on another chair, and the woman next to him. The boy had a faint red mark on his arm. "Yeh kaun hai?"
"I'm Kavita Chaturvedi," the woman said, standing up, her voice dripping with indignation. "Aur yeh mera beta Ishaan hai. Jise AAPKI beti ne maara!"
"Maara?!" Mishti stood up, her full height making her presence known. "Pehle aap batayiye aapke bete ne kya kiya!"
"Kya kiya? Ishaan ne kuch nahi kiya! Woh toh bas—"
The door slammed open.
Abhimanyu strode in, still in his naval uniform, his eyes immediately scanning the room and landing on Pihu.
"Pihu!" He crossed the room in three strides, crouching down next to Mishti. "Princess, you okay?"
"Maan uncle!" Pihu's face brightened considerably, and she threw her arms around his neck.
He hugged her tight, his hand gentle on her back, before pulling back to look at her properly. "Koi dard? Lagi kahaan?"
"Nahi uncle, main theek hoon. Bas thoda sa—" She pointed to the red mark on her arm.
Abhi's expression darkened immediately. "Yeh kaise hua?"
Before Pihu could answer, Principal Mehra cleared her throat loudly.
"Aur aap hain...?"
Abhi stood to his full height, his naval uniform making him look even more imposing. "Lieutenant Abhimanyu Khanna, Indian Navy. Main Pihu ka emergency contact hoon."
Mrs. Chaturvedi's eyes went wide. "Emergency contact?!"
Mishti snapped, then turned back to Abhi. "Principal ne kaha Pihu ne Ishaan ko maara. Par obviously kuch aur bhi hua hai jo—"
"Obviously kuch nahi hua!" Mrs. Chuturvedi interrupted. "Aapki beti violent hai! Usne pehle maara! Ishaan toh bas—"
"Bas WHAT?" Mishti whirled on her. "Aapka beta kya kar raha tha?"
"Yeh hum sab baith ke discuss karenge," Principal Mehra said firmly, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Please, everyone sit—"
The door burst open again.
This time, it was like a force of nature had entered the room.
Nimmi Maasi swept in, her handbag swinging dramatically, her sunglasses still perched on her head despite being indoors, her expression somewhere between fierce protectiveness and ready-to-fight.
"KAHAAN HAI MERI BACHCHI?!" she announced to the room at large.
"Nimmi maasi!" Pihu's face lit up.
"OH MY GOD, PIHU BETA!" Nimmi rushed over, practically shoving Abhi aside to get to the little girl. She cupped Pihu's face in her hands. "Dekho kitni chhoti si hai! Itni pyaari si! Aur isse principal ke office mein bitha rakha hai!"
"Maasi," Abhi tried, "please calm—"
"CALM? CALM?!" Nimmi rounded on him. "Meri poti jaisi bachchi ko pareshan kiya gaya hai aur tu mujhe calm rehne ko keh raha hai?!"
Nimmi then turned to Principal Mehra. "Aur aap kaun hain jo meri Pihu ko aise... aise court mein bulati hain?!"
"Main principal hoon!" Principal Mehra's voice rose. "Aur yeh principal's office hai, court nahi hai!"
"ARRE WAAAAH! Tu hai na woh? Tune maara hamari Pihu ko?" Nimmi snapped turning at Ishaan.
"Nahi, aunty! Usne mujhe—" Ishaan replied.
"JHOOTH MAT BOL!" Nimmi Maasi wagged her finger at him. "Chhote bacche jhooth nahi bolte! Par tu toh bolta hai! Matlab tu chhota bachha bhi nahi hai! Tu toh—"
"Excuse me!" Mrs. Chaturvedi stood up, facing Nimmi Maasi. "Aap kaun hain? Aur mere bete ko daant mat dijiye!"
"Main kaun hoon?" Nimmi Maasi pulled herself up to her full height. "MAIN PIHU KI GREAT-AUNT HOON! Aur aapka beta—" She pointed dramatically at Ishaan. "—clearly kuch galat kiya hai! Warna hamari Pihu kyun aayi thi?"
"Your Pihu punched my son in the face!"
"TOH ACHHA HI KIYA HOGA!"
"MAASI!" Abhimanyu grabbed her arm. "Please, calm down—"
"Tum mujhe calm down bologe? Main tumhe bachpan se janti hoon! Jab tum teen saal ke the tab tumne baaju waale Mrs. Sharma ke garden mein pant kholke susu—"
"MAASI, PLEASE, not the time for childhood stories!" Abhi replied flustered.
Principal Mehra looked like she was developing a stress migraine in real-time. "Can everyone PLEASE just—"
The door flew open a third time.
"SORRY SORRY SORRY! Traffic tha!" Aaravi burst in, panting, her hair flying, She stopped, taking in the scene , her eyes landing on each person, assessing.
"Okay. Situation kya hai? Kisne kya kiya? Mujhe bata do, main sabko maroon abhi ke abhi!"
Every eye in the room turned to stare at her.
Principal Mehra removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. "And you are?"
"Aaravi Malhotra" She responded.
"Family friend," Mishti supplied weakly, still trying to process that her living room was apparently now in the principal's office.
Aaravi was talking too fast, a sure sign of nerves. "Pihu baby, you okay? Kisne tang kiya tumhe? Bata do, just point them out—"
Mrs. Chaturvedi was staring at this entire circus with her mouth open. "Yeh... yeh kya ho raha hai? Kitne log aur aayenge?!"
Aaravi hugged her tight, then pulled back to look at her face, her eyes scanning for injuries exactly like Mishti and Abhi had done. "Tum theek ho? Kisi ne kuch kaha? Kuch kiya?"
"Mami!"
"Abh yeh kyu aayi hai?!" Mrs. Chaturvedi looked scandalized. "School hai yeh, therapy session nahi!"
"Arre, modern zamana hai!" Nimmi Maasi chimed in, waving her hand dramatically. "Mental health! You've heard of it?"
" Matlab aapko.. Dekh kar lag raha hai ki aapko nahi pata hoga" Nimmi taunted.
"Maasi, please," Abhi muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Principal Mehra opened her mouth to say something, probably to throw everyone out, when the door opened one final time.
And Akshay Malhotra walked in.
The room fell into complete silence.
He was in his full uniform, his badge visible on his belt, his expression professionally neutral but his eyes sharp, taking in every detail of the room in seconds.
Those eyes found Pihu first, softened for a fraction of a second, then moved to Aaravi, lingered there with something that might have been relief, then returned to professional assessment mode.
" Akshay Malhotra, Mumbai Crime Branch," he announced, his voice carrying natural authority. "Mujhe report mili hai ki yahan ek incident hua hai involving a minor."
Principal Mehra's face went pale. "Crime... Crime Branch? Sir, yeh... yeh itna serious matter nahi hai! Yeh toh bas school ka internal—"
"Any incident involving a minor is a serious matter, Principal Mehra." Akshay's tone was perfectly professional, perfectly cold. "Main yahaan sirf ensure karne aaya hoon ki proper procedure follow ho raha hai aur bachche ke rights protected hain."
Mrs. Chaturvedi looked like she might faint. "Rights? Crime Branch? Principal, maine toh bas complaint ki thi ki—"
"Aapki complaint exactly kya hai, Mrs...?" Akshay pulled out a small notepad like he was actually going to file an official report.
"C-Chaturvedi. Kavita Chaturvedi." She was stammering now, clearly intimidated by the badge and the uniform and the sheer presence of a Crime Branch police officer. "Mera... mera beta... iss... iss ladki ne maara use."
Akshay's pen was poised over the notepad. "Aur aapka beta ka naam?"
"I-Ishaan."
"Ishaan Chaturvedi. Age?"
"Five. five years old."
Akshay made a note, then looked at Ishaan properly for the first time. The boy was staring at his shoes, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"Aur incident exactly kya tha?"
"Woh... woh Pihu ne... uss ladki ne..." Mrs. Chaturvedi was having trouble forming sentences under Akshay's professional stare. "Usne Ishaan ko maara! Hurt kiya! Dekho uski arm pe mark hai!"
"Okay, ENOUGH!" Principal Mehta slammed her hand on the desk. "EVERYONE SIT DOWN AND BE QUIET OR I'M CALLING SECURITY!"
Everyone sat.
Principal Mehta took a deep breath. "Now. Here is the situation. Pihu Banerjee punched Ishaan Chaturvedi in the face during lunch break. This is against school policy—"
"But WHY did she punch him?" Abhimanyu interrupted. "Pihu wouldn't just—"
"He deserved it!" Pihu burst out, tears streaming down her face.
"PIHU!" Mishti's voice was sharp. "You don't hit people! Ever! Main tumse kitna boli hoon—"
"Par Mumma, woh mujhe pareshan kar raha tha!"
"Toh teacher ko batana chahiye tha!" Mishti was angry-crying now, disappointed and scared and overwhelmed. "Violence kabhi answer nahi hai! Tumhe pata hai yeh! Tum—tum—"
"Mishti." Abhimanyu's voice was gentle. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ek minute. Please. Let's hear what happened first."
Mishti looked at him, her eyes swimming with tears, then nodded shakily.
Abhimanyu knelt down in front of Pihu's chair, eye level with her. "Princess, mujhe batao. Shuru se. Kya hua?"
Pihu hiccupped, wiping her nose. "Woh... woh Ishaan, woh class mein mere baal kheenchta rehta hai."
"What?" Mishti's voice went dangerous.
"Everyday!" Pihu continued. "Meri ponies pakadta hai aur kheenchta hai! Aur mujhe tang karta hai! Mera lunch lene ki koshish karta hai!"
"Ishaan, is this true?" Mrs. Chaturvedi turned to her son.
Ishaan looked down, guilty. "Main... main bas mazaak kar raha tha—"
"MAZAAK?" Aaravi stood up. "Yeh mazaak hai tumhare liye? Listen here, you little—"
"Aaravi, sit," Akshay pulled her back.
"Pihu," Abhimanyu continued calmly, "aapne teacher ko nahi bataya?"
"Maine bataya tha!" Pihu's voice rose. "Maine Mrs. Kapoor ko bataya! Par woh—woh boli ki—" She hiccupped again. "Woh boli 'Boys will be boys' aur phir woh hasne lagi. Maine Ishaani ki mummy ko bhi abhi bola par unhone bola 'Maybe he likes you! Maybe he has a crush!'"
The room went dead silent.
"She said WHAT?" Mishti's voice was ice. Everyone turned to look at Mrs.Chaturvedi.
Pihu nodded miserably. "Aur phir aaj lunch mein, woh phir se mere baal kheench raha tha, bahut zor se, aur main ne kaha 'Stop it!' par woh nahi suna, toh main ne—" She mimed punching.
"Good," Nimmi Maasi said firmly. "Bilkul sahi kiya."
"Maasi!" Mishti looked appalled.
"Kya Maasi? Bacchi ne apna defend kiya! Isme galat kya hai?"
"Violence is not—"
"Principal Mehra," Abhimanyu's voice cut through, still calm but with an edge of steel. "I think we need to also call Mrs. Kapoor in here. Right now."
"I don't think—"
"Ma'am, with all due respect, a teacher told a student that physical harassment was acceptable because 'boys will be boys'. This is a serious issue."
Akshay nodded. "He's right. Actually, this could be a legal issue. Child safety protocols—"
Principal Mehta pressed her intercom. "Send Mrs. Kapoor to my office. Now."
Two minutes later, a flustered Mrs. Kapoor entered. "Yes, maam—oh my, so many people—"
"Mrs. Kapoor," Principal Mehta said tersely, "did Pihu Banerjee come to you about Ishaan Chaturvedi pulling her hair?"
Mrs. Kapoor shifted uncomfortably. "Well, yes, but it was harmless—"
"And did you tell her 'boys will be boys'?"
"I—well—it's just a phrase, you know how children are—"
"Did you suggest," Abhimanyu said turning sharply at Mrs.Chaturvedi, his voice dangerously quiet, "that this boy was hurting her because he had a crush on her?"
Mrs. Chaturvedi laughed nervously. "It was just—children at this age, they don't know how to express—"
"So you normalized violence," Abhimanyu stood up, his full naval officer bearing on display. "You told a four-year-old girl that when someone hurts her, it might be because they like her. You romanticized assault."
"Assault is a strong word—"
"So sometimes WHAT?" Aaravi's voice was shaking with barely controlled rage. "So sometimes boys hurt girls and we should just accept it as romance?!"
"That's not what I—"
"That's EXACTLY what you said!" Aaravi interjected. "You told a four-year-old girl that physical harassment was a sign of affection!"
"I was trying to make light of the situation!" Mrs. Chaturvedi defended. "Children squabble, it's normal—"
"It's NOT normal!" Nimmi Maasi's voice rang out. "It's NOT okay! Aur you, as a parent, should know better than to teach your son that hurting someone is acceptable!"
"Did you," Abhimanyu said, standing up slowly, still holding Pihu, turning to Mrs.Kapoor, his voice dangerously quiet, "dismiss a student's complaint about being physically harassed? Yes or no?"
"I wouldn't say harassed, that's a very strong word—"
"Answer the question, Mrs. Kapoor," Akshay said, his voice in full effect. "Did you dismiss her complaint?"
Mrs. Kapoor swallowed hard. "I... I told her that sometimes boys don't know how to express, so they might tease or... or pull hair..."
The room exploded.
"YOU WHAT?!" Mishti's voice was a roar.
"Unbelievable!" Aaravi threw her hands up.
"Haww!" Nimmi Maasi clutched her chest dramatically. "Teacher hoke yeh sikhati ho bachchiyon ko?!"
"Mrs. Chaturvedi," Abhimanyu said, and his voice cut through the chaos like a knife. Everyone fell silent. He was still holding Pihu, but his naval officer bearing was in full force now, his posture rigid, his expression cold. "Do you understand what you did?"
"I was just trying to—"
"You normalized violence," he said flatly. "You told a four-year-old girl that when someone hurts her, it might be because they like her. You romanticized assault."
"Assault is a very strong word for children playing—"
"Unwanted physical contact IS assault, Mrs. Kapoor," Akshay interjected, his voice hard.
"Regardless of age. In fact, it's MORE serious in children, because this is when patterns form. This is when we teach kids what's acceptable and what isn't."
"Exactly!" Aaravi's voice was shaking with emotion. "Yeh sab bachpan se shuru hota hai! 'He's pulling your hair because he likes you'—aur phir kya? When she's a teenager, 'he's possessive because he loves you'? When she's an adult, 'he controls you because he cares'? WHERE DOES IT END?!"
Her voice had risen to almost a shout by the end, and Akshay quietly moved to stand beside her, his hand finding the small of her back, a gesture so automatic, so natural, that he didn't even seem to realize he'd done it.
"Aaravi's absolutely right," Nimmi Maasi said, her voice shaking with anger but firm. She had moved to stand next to Pihu as well, creating a protective circle around the little girl. "You're teaching our Pihu, you're teaching ALL the girls in your class, that their discomfort doesn't matter. That their pain is somehow romantic aur acceptable. Yeh galat hai. Completely, totally galat hai."
Mrs. Kapoor's face had gone from red to white. "I... I didn't think of it that way. I was just trying to defuse the situation—"
"By invalidating her complaint," Abhimanyu said, his voice still that dangerous quiet. "She came to you for help, you're her teacher, you're supposed to protect her, and you dismissed her. Worse, you taught her that her discomfort doesn't matter. That boys' actions don't have consequences."
"Unwanted physical contact is assault" Akshay said. "Even in children. Especially in children, because that's when these patterns form."
Abhi then looked at Mrs.Chaturvedi, his voice harder now. "Because what she said to Pihu is not just wrong, it's dangerous."
Principal Mehra looked taken aback. "Dangerous?"
"Haan. Dangerous." Abhi crossed his arms. "When you tell a four-year-old girl that a boy hurting her means he 'likes' her, you're teaching her that pain equals affection. That violence equals romance. Aur yeh, yeh exactly woh narrative hai jo baad mein lead karti hai to girls accepting abuse in relationships, because they've been conditioned from childhood ki 'agar woh tumhe hurt karta hai, it means he cares.'"
Abhi continued, his voice passionate. "Aur 'boys will be boys'? Yeh kya hai? Iska matlab kya hai? Ki boys ko accountability nahi hai? Ki unke actions ke consequences nahi hain? We're teaching boys ki tum jo marzi karo, it's just 'boys being boys,' aur we're teaching girls ki tum quietly suffer karo, kyunki 'boys will be boys.'"
He looked directly at Mrs. Mehra. "Is this what your school teaches? Ki harassment ko ignore karo? That gender differences allow boys to behave however?"
Principal . Mehra's face had gone very red. "Mr. Khanna, we don't—"
Abhi challenged. "Aur why, when a student complained about being hurt repeatedly, nothing was done until the student defended herself?"
"My son is the victim here!" Ishaan's mother protested.
"Your son," Abhi turned to her calmly, "was hurting another child. Repeatedly. For a week. Aur kisi ne usse nahi roka. So Pihu ne khud ko defend kiya. Haan, violence wrong hai—I agree. But context matters, doesn't it?"
Mrs.Kapoor nodded. "As a teacher, we're supposed to teach consent and boundaries from early childhood. This is... this is the opposite of that. And I apologize for that."
"You were invalidating her complaint," Abhimanyu said. "She came to you for help, and you dismissed her. Worse, you taught her that her discomfort doesn't matter."
He crouched down again, looking at Pihu. "Princess, when someone hurts you, it's not because they like you. Real liking, real caring, means respecting someone. Treating them gently. Making them feel safe. Okay?"
Pihu nodded, wiping her tears. "Like how you treat Mumma?"
The room went very quiet.
Abhimanyu's ears turned red. "I—yes. Like that. Exactly like that."
Mishti was also blushing furiously. "Pihu—"
"Can we FOCUS?" Principal Mehra interrupted, though she was clearly fighting a smile. "Mrs. Kapoor, this is going to be addressed formally. We'll need to discuss appropriate retraining on handling student complaints and understanding consent education."
Principal Mehra turned her attention to Mrs. Chaturvedi and Ishaan. "Mrs. Chaturvedi, your son has been physically harassing another student repeatedly. This is serious. Ishaan will need to apologize to Pihu, and we'll need to have a discussion about appropriate behavior and boundaries."
"But my son didn't mean—"
"Your son," Akshay said flatly, fixing Mrs. Chaturvedi with a look that probably made criminals confess, "has been repeatedly physically assaulting another student. If these were adults, I'd be filing assault charges. The only reason I'm not is because they're four and five years old and this is a teachable moment. But make no mistake, what he did was wrong. And your response to it was wrong."
Mrs. Chaturvedi wisely shut up, her face red.
Principal Mehra looked at Ishaan, her expression stern but not unkind. "Ishaan, do you understand why what you did was wrong?"
Ishaan nodded miserably, tears starting to spill. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt her. I just... I wanted to play with her and she wouldn't play with me..."
"So you pulled her hair?" Abhimanyu asked, his voice gentler now. "Did that make her want to play with you?"
"If you want someone to be your friend," Abhimanyu continued, "you ask nicely. You share your toys. You're kind. You don't hurt them. Hurting someone is never okay. Understand?"
Ishaan nodded again.
"Apologize to Pihu," Principal Mehra instructed.
Ishaan slid off his chair and walked over to where Pihu was still in Abhimanyu's arms. He looked up at her, his face blotchy from crying.
"Sorry, Pihu," he said, his voice small. "I won't pull your hair again. I promise."
Pihu looked at him for a long moment, then at her mother, then at Abhimanyu, as if asking for permission.
"It's up to you, princess," Abhimanyu said softly. "You don't have to forgive him if you're not ready."
Pihu considered this, then looked back at Ishaan. "Okay. But if you do it again, mai phir se marungi!"
"PIHU!" Mishti gasped.
"I mean... I'll tell the teacher. The right teacher. Who will actually listen." Pihu looked angelic.
Principal Mehra dismissed everyone with clear relief. As they filed out of her office they filed out of her office, the group clustered in the hallway. Mishti still looking emotionally drained, Abhimanyu still carrying Pihu, Nimmi Maasi already launching into a rant about "bachpan se hi wrong values sikhana," Aaravi and Akshay standing close enough that their shoulders brushed.
They were all so absorbed in comforting Pihu and debriefing about what had just happened that none of them noticed the woman approaching until she spoke.
"Akshay bhaiyya?"
Everyone froze.
Akshay turned, and his expression shifted into something between professional and uncomfortable. "Shriya bhabhi. Hello."
Shriya was staring at the assembled group with wide, confused eyes.
"Aap yahaan kya kar rahe ho?" she asked, her gaze moving from Akshay to Aaravi to the others. "Aur...? You're... here?"
Aaravi's eyes went wide, and she immediately stepped away from Akshay, putting distance between them. "... hi... main... woh..."
Shriya's eyes narrowed slightly, clearly remembering. "Tum woh ho na? Party mein aayi thi, aur... aur humara family vase tod diya tha?"
"That was an accident!" Aaravi said quickly, her face going red.
"Arrey it's okay koi baat nahi" Shriya said softly. "But that doesn't explain why you're all here. Akshay bhaiyya, seriously, kya chal raha hai?"
Everyone started talking at once.
"Main yahaan ek case ke liye—" Akshay started.
"Family emergency—" Mishti said.
"Pihu ko problem tha—" Abhimanyu began.
"Modern parenting issues!" Nimmi Maasi declared dramatically.
"Just supporting a friend!" Aaravi said too loudly.
Shriya held up her hand, and everyone fell silent. She looked at each of them in turn, her expression growing more suspicious by the second.
"Okay," she said slowly. "Let me see if I have this straight. Akshay bhaiyya, aap Mumbai Crime Branch se ho, yahaan ho because...?"
"Report mili thi about a minor," Akshay said, which was technically true.
"And tum, tum jo mere ghar mein vase tod ke bhagi thi, tum yahaan ho because...?"
"I'm Aaravi. I'm friends with Mishti!" Aaravi said, gesturing at Mishti. "Haan! We're friends! I was just... supporting her!"
" Woh meri behan hai!" Abhimanyu spoke up that same time.
"Haan, meri friend aur Abhi ki behan bhi!" Mishti agreed quickly.
"Mumbai traffic, you know how it is," Nimmi Maasi said with a theatrical wave of her hand. "Everyone reaches together only!"
"Right," Shriya said slowly. "And Akshay bhaiyya, you just happened to know about this situation how...?"
"Abhimanyu called me," Akshay said, pointing at his friend. "He asked for advice on handling the situation."
"Because of your legal expertise," Shriya said.
"Exactly."
"For a child pulling another child's hair."
"...Yes."
"Which required an IPS officer from Crime Branch."
"Better safe than sorry?" Akshay tried.
Shriya stared at him. Then at Aaravi. Then back at him.
"okay chalo bye" she said finally, " Main already late hoon for my next class. Milti hoon!"
She walked away, leaving the group staring after her.
There was a long moment of silence.
Then Nimmi Maasi started cackling. "OH HO! Almost Pakde gaye! Caught red-handed!"
"Maasi!" Akshay hissed.
"We weren't caught," Aaravi said weakly. "She doesn't know anything."
"Aaravi," Abhimanyu said dryly, "she definitely knows something. Maybe not everything, but something."
"This is a disaster," Akshay muttered, running his hand through his hair.
Pihu, still in Abhimanyu's arms and blissfully unaware of the drama, tugged on his collar. "Maan Uncle, can we get ice cream now? I was very brave today."
"You were extremely brave, princess," Abhimanyu agreed, smiling at her. "Haan, we can get ice cream."
"Can everyone come?" Pihu asked hopefully.
" Sorry beta duty hai" Akshay ruffled her hair.
Everyone looked at each other, then at the little girl's hopeful face, and collectively gave up on having a serious conversation about the disaster that had just unfolded.
" Raat ko karenge ice cream party!" Abhimaanyu said hopefully.
"YAY!" Pihu cheered.
As they walked toward the parking lot, Pihu still chattering about ice cream flavors, none of them noticed Principal Mehra watching from her office window, shaking her head with a smile.
"Weirdest parent-teacher meeting I've ever had," she muttered to herself. "And I've been doing this for twenty years."
Abhimanyu walked beside them. "Pihu did the right thing. Defending herself."
"By punching someone?"
"After trying the proper channels and being dismissed, haan." He looked at Mishti. "Sometimes violence isn't the answer. But sometimes... sometimes it's the only answer left when no one listens."
Mishti stopped walking. "Thank you. For... for standing up for her. For explaining all that."
"Of course." He smiled. "Woh meri Pihu hai."
"Aur Mumma bhi aapki hai!" Pihu announced cheerfully.
"PIHU!"
But Abhimanyu was grinning. "Haan, princess. Mumma bhi meri hai."
Mishti's face was on fire. "Abhi— jyaada bakwaas kiya na toh muh pe jhaapad padega haan." she threatened.
"Friends. Mumma is my friend. Jo meri hai. As a friend."
Nimmi Maasi and Aaravi watched from behind, both grinning.
"Yeh dono kitne cute hain," Aaravi sighed.
"Haan. Ab bas shaadi ho jaye."
"MAASI!" Abhimanyu called back. "SUNA MAINE!"
"SUNNE DO! SACH HAI!"
THANKS FOR READING LOVELIES!!!
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