"Gulab, are your parents going to be late today?" A teacher asked the six year old, little girl standing alone near the gate waiting for her parents.
Gulab shrugged, not knowing the answer.
Her parents were supposed to pick her up today, not the Driver uncle. Also, out of all days, her twin and cousin decided to fall a victim to cold today!
Maybe it has something to do with the ice cream party they did last night and forgot to invite her! She still had a revenge due 'cause of that. They always excluded her because she was a girl and the youngest.
So not fair!
Standing there alone like that was making her want to cry. But she tried to hold herself in because big girls don't cry. She was a big girl now no matter how much against it her Dada and Baba told her.
The teacher checked her wrist watch before gently calling out to her. "Gulab, it's been an hour. Would you like me to take you to your siblings? Highschool and middleschool bell rang a while ago."
Gulab nodded silently, inside she was fuming in anger that made her want to cry. The teacher took her hand and led her out of the primary classes wing.
As they reached the highschool wing, Gulab immediately spotted her brother, Siddharth, near the exit, talking to his friends.
"Dada!" She dropped the teacher's hand and sprinted towards him.
Siddharth looked the source of the sound only to instinctively open his arms for the little girl who bolted in his arms. Siddharth picked her up as Gulab hid her face in the crook of his neck seeking comfort.
"Princess, what are you still doing here? Shouldn't you be home by now?" The fourteen year old asked, adjusting her in one hand so he could fix his glasses with his other.
"Maa-Baba are late." She mumbled. "I waited for one hour!" She complained.
"Really?" Siddharth frowned, glancing at the school gate as if his eyes could summon their parents by sheer will. "They didn’t come? Or call?"
Gulab shook her head, curls brushing his collar. "No call. No driver uncle either."
He sighed, the kind of sigh that belonged to someone who was suddenly feeling much older than fourteen. He shifted his bag higher on his shoulder and kept one arm snug around her.
“Then you'll come with me on my cycle today, okay?” he said softly.
"Okay." Gulab nodded. "Let's go."
"No, we have to wait for V, Vivi and Ayu first." Siddharth chided before waving off his friends.
"Okay," Gulab mumbled before sniffling. "Was I brave?"
"Yep." He said softly. "The bravest."
The two teenage boys, seemingly younger than Siddharth approached them. One boy had his shirt out, hair messy like he had just been out from the war. The other boy was his complete opposite—prim and proper.
"Oh, look what we have here, little Rosie-Posie." The twelve year old boy smirked, poking Gulab's stomach.
Gulab tapped Siddharth's shoulder asking him to put her down. As soon she was put down, she glared at the twelve year old boy, keeping her hands on her hip.
"I'm not Rosie-Posie, V. It's Rosie or Gulab." She chided.
V threw his head back and laughed before he pinched her chubby cheek. “Nope, you're my Rosie-Posie.”
Gulab glared at him, but it only looked like a kitten trying to bite.
The neat one adjusted his collar, eyes softening when they landed on her. “Hi, Rosie,” he said gently. "What are you doing here?"
"Maa-Baba are late!"
"Aw. You waited long?" He asked as V poked her stomach again.
"Very long," Gulab replied, lifting her chin. "And you’re not allowed to poke me." She scolded V.
V clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. "Well, too bad, I'll do as I please."
"Then, I'll bite you and tell Chichi to spank your bum because I do as I please too." Gulab sassed, throwing back her curly raven hair. "Also Ayu is my favorite now."
V gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. While Ayu smirked proudly at his twin.
Siddharth stepped a little closer to her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “You don't talk like that, Princess. They're older than you, right? And Vyar, cut it out already."
Vyar raised both hands in surrender. “Relax, big brother. We’re just saying hello. Right, Ayur?”
Gulab narrowed her eyes. “Say hello with your mouth, not your finger.”
A let out a small laugh, the kind that slipped before Ayur could stop it. “She’s right, V.”
“You too, A?” V clutched his chest dramatically. “Everyone’s against me.”
Gulab crossed her arms. “Should I call your momma?" She chided in a fake-baby voice.
V scoffed. "Oh my god, look at this little Rosie. She's grown thorns."
Gulab poked her tongue out on him.
"Rosie!" She turned as she heard a girl in a neat uniform coming towards them. She looked no older than eleven.
"Vivi!" Gulab ran towards her, meeting her half way.
The girl grinned, leaning down to tickle her as six year old's giggles filled the air. After a while, both girls made their way back towards the boys.
"Aarvi, why are you late? You should’ve been here before everyone." Siddharth asked her with creases of worry.
"I had to return a book to the library." Aarvi replied calmly.
"The one you were reading last night?" He asked.
She nodded. "Yeah, I also looked for the ones you suggested."
"Even I borrowed a book. It's about science. We should do a group-reading again." Ayur joined in.
Vyar sighed loudly. "Look at these nerds. So Boring." He turned towards Gulab. "You're not one of them, are you, My Rosie-Posie?"
Gulab shook her head rapidly. "No! School and Books are yuck." She fake shuddered.
Vyar grinned. "That's the spirit." He raised his hand for a high-five.
Gulab joined and hit his outstretched palm, grinning.
"Why am I not surprised?" Siddharth sighed.
"Hah! I have Rosie in my team, y'all!" Vyar smirked.
"Don't forget, we have Mirav." Aarvi crossed her arm.
"And we have Aaru!" Gulab copied her, jutting out her lower lip.
"Yeah, little Aariv is in our team." Vyar backed her up.
"We have Bade Papa, Maa, and Fufaji." Ayur meddled.
"And we have Papa, Badi Maa and Bua." Vyar countered. "Also Bade Baba is in our team because one word from this one and he's a puddle." He nodded towards Gulab.
"Enough, you all." Siddharth, always the mediator, intervened.
Just then, a woman dressed in an elegant blue saree and made their way towards them. "Mumma!" Gulab chimed and ran towards her.
"Oh my sweet girl, did you wait for long?" The woman asked apologetically.
Gulab nodded, jutting out her lower lip. "So long. My feet hurt."
A man, dressed in a proper suit, came right after and stood beside the woman. "Why is my sweetheart still standing then? Come here, baby."
"Baba!" Gulab ran into his arms, grinning. The man immediately lifted her up in his arms. Nodding as she began complaining.
The woman shook her head at her daughter and husband and made her way towards the rest of them. She kissed each one of their foreheads.
"Why were you late, Maa?" Siddharth asked.
"Don't ask." The woman sighed. "One of my clients was misbehaving. We had to deal with him and then the traffic."
"Are you okay?" He asked concerned.
The woman smiled. "I'm fine, baby." She ruffled his hair.
Siddharth blushed at the term of endearment. It wasn't a surprise because everyone knew he was a mumma's boy, through and through.
"Would you like to come with us? We can get ice cream. I'll call your driver." She asked.
Aarvi and Vyar nodded immediately whereas Siddharth and Ayur shook their heads.
"I have my cycle with me." Siddharth reasoned.
"I want to go with Sid Bhai." Ayur said.
"Of course, you little tail." Vyar scoffed.
"Vyar," The woman reprimanded. "Say sorry to your brother."
Vyar huffed. "Sorry." He mumbled.
"What? I couldn't quite hear you."
"Don't push it, A." Vyar warned.
"Well, if that's the case, even I want to go with Sid Bhai." Aarvi said sheepishly.
"What?!" Vyar gave her a betrayed look.
"But then, even I want to come with you all. But my ice cream?!" He stomped a foot on the ground.
The woman chuckled and pulled out some cash from her purse. "Here, you all. Get one for yourselves if you find a shop on the way."
Vyar beamed in glee and gave her a big hug. "You're the best!"
"Yay! Ice cream!" Gulab cheered loudly. "Let's go. Hurry up!" Gulab whined at her parents.
They settled in the car. The man turned the key and the car rolled on the road. They got their ice cream on the way and the journey continued.
Half way through, Gulab turned to her father. "Baba, how did you meet Mumma?" She asked, blinking up at them.
The man shared a look with his wife as he answered. "Well... we met on a train journey."
"Huh? Then did you marry mumma on a train?"
The man laughed. "No, sweetheart."
"But you said, you met her on a train." Gulab tilted her head confused. The woman chuckled at her daughter's adorableness.
"That's true." The man nodded. "But I didn't marry her the first time I met her."
"No?" Came her confused reply.
"No, sweetheart, I had to break a lot of mountains to be able to marry your mother." The man shook his head like he was thinking about the parts in his life that he'd rather not revisit.
Gulab gasped with big eyes. "Mumma, did Baba really break mountains for you?"
The woman looked at the man with a soft smile and pure love in her eyes as she nodded. "Yes. Yes, he did."
"How?! I wanna know from the start!" Gulab demanded.
"Well, it all started when..."
⋆ ───⊱☽❁☾⊰─── ⋆
The room was tense. Two men were sitting on their knees, looking down, hands joined, trembling in fear. They dare not look at the person in front of them, who was sitting on the chair, taping his fingers on the armrest, looking at them intently.
His face was expressionless, yet there was something stoic about it. He was wearing white kurta with a shawl elegantly wrapped around his shoulder.
Virendra Dev Chowdhary, the president of the zilla Committee of Ajmer Districts. He was one of the most powerful and respected man in all of the 12 villages under him.
The panchayat was being held in the hall room of his haveli. His word was the last word. No one dared to oppose him. As kindly as he governs, at times, there are some brutal decisions.
Faint murmurs were heard by the people standing in the back. Harish, one of his trusted man and advisor, cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention.
"Chowdhary Sahab," he began. "These two were the ones who burned Manav's harvest. Those harvests were going to feed his family and help send his children to school. They were his whole year's hard work." He said, motioning the man named Manav to come ahead.
"J-Ji sarkar... these two in malovolence destroyed my everything. How will I feed my family now? Mai toh puri tarah barbaad ho gya sahab." Manav cried.
Virendra ran his eyes, glancing through the whole room once, before they landed on the two men kneeling. "What did you two do it?" His voice was cold, making shivers run down their spines.
"S-Sarkar... W-Woh..." One of them began with trembling voice.
"Do not fumble." Virendra's voice echoed again like a striking thunder.
"H-Hum toh b-bas..." He gulped visibly. "Manav, Divesh, and I, we started sowing in our fields together. Yet his were growing rapidly while ours were getting degrading. We suspected that maybe he had something to do with it." He turned and gave Manav a dirty look, showing no remorse.
"But when we confronted him, he denied, and we got into an argument. " The other man, Divesh, continued. "We were sure that he was the reason our crops weren't showing any growth or progess. Dwesh aur irsha mein, humne... hume maaf kar dijiye, sahab." He said with a low voice, but then his expression changed to one of assusing.
"Lekin, sarkar mana humari galti thi. Lekin ee, ee bhi koi doodh ka dula naahi hai. Iski wajah se humare khet upjao naahi rahe." He pointed at Manav assusingly.
Manav shook his head rapidly. "No, they are wrongly assusing me, sahab. I did no such thing! Their crops were degrading due to excess use of the pesticides that were provided to us last year by the officers. I tried to warn them, but they didn't listen, and now they are blaming me." He stated his point. His face clearly showed distress.
"Manav is telling the truth, Chaudhary sahab." Harish stepped in, supporting Manav.
"Do you all agree that Divesh and Farid are at fault here?" Virendra's voice roared through the hall again as he addressed the people at the back and the panch of the 12 villages.
A surge of agreement ran through the hall, making the two men gulp in fear and dread on what was about to come.
"You heard them. For the crime you did, I should be cutting off your hands right now for disrespecting harvests and ruining a farmer's hard work..." he said. Divesh and Farid were visibly trembling, sweating their glands off. They knew the man before them wasn't the one to make empty threats. "...But I won't do that."
Virendra's last words gained mix reactions from the people. Murmurs of confusions spread through the hall. Divesh and Farid visibly relaxed.
But anyone could say anything, he continued. "But don't think you'll be let off the hook so easily. I'm not cutting off your hands because your family's survival depends on you. But you will pay every single penny worth damage you've caused Manav by the end of the month." He declared, leaving no room for argument.
The men tensed further. "Sarkar, ee se accha toh aap humare haath ki katwa dete. Hum itna dhan itne kaam samay mein kaise bharenge? Apni toh khet se bhi itni humaai naahi hoti. Daya, Sarkar, Thodi daya dekhaiye." They pleaded, bowing more, joining their hands.
"After living here for so long, you should've known I don't show mercy. You have to deal with the consequences on your own. Humne jo keh diya so keh diya. Kisi ko koi aapatti?" He asked, scanning his eyes across the room. The room felt silent, showing their acceptance. "Dismissed." He said and stood up to leave. Harish and a few other men following him inside.
___________________________
The sound of anklets filled the room. A girl gracefully moved to the beats of the rhythm playing in the background. A mischievous smile on her face, as she twirled, making faces to match the song. Her blue lehenga-choli spinning with her gracefully.
The women, sitting on the cot in front of her shook their heads watching her antics. While the man sitting on the ground, with one of the women applying oil on his hair, chuckled.
Padmini Devi, her grandmother.
Pallavi Virendra Chowdhary, her mother.
Ragini Vanraj Chowdhary, her chachi.
Garv Dev Chowdhary, her second eldest brother, Ragini's son.
She did a dramatic spin but grinned when a mischievous idea popped up in her mind. She slowly approached her grandmother, who raised her eyebrow suspiciously, looking at her.
She pulled her grandmother with her and started mimicking the lyrics with her, making her forcefully sway to the song. The old woman made displeased sounds of protests and tried to move back.
Garv had to bite his palm in his mouth to stop himself from laughing, looking the elder woman's stingy expressions, but failing muserably. The other two women bit their lips, hiding their own smiles.
The music stopped, and the old woman held her ear, twisting it. Her face showed nothing but annoyance and anger. "Ae chori, bohot masti chadi hai thare ko? Bata, mare se naach karvayegi?" She twisted her ear sharply.
"Wahi toh Amma dekho toh iss Meera ko, iski itni himmat ki ye aapko naachva rahi thi." Garv provoked Amma more, giving Meera a sly smile, who in return glared at him.
Meera whined, when Amma twisted her ear once again. "Amma, Amma, Amma, humari pyari Amma, maaf kardo hume. Hum toh bas aise hi thoda masti-majak kar rahe the. Chodo bhi ab, dard ho raha hai." She pleaded, giving Amma her best puppy eyes. But who was she even kidding?
Amma glared at Meera, twisting her ear more, making her wince. "Majak-masti, woh bhi mare se? Amma hu thari, koi thari umar ki sakhi-saheli na hu jo tu mare saath majak-masti kare." She scolded her.
"Haa, haa, Amma, maan gaye, galti ho gayi humse. Hume dhyaan rakhna chahiye tha ki iss umar mein kamar vagera lachak jati toh afat ho jati. Is umar mein sharir naajuk hota haina. Samajhte hai, chinta mat karo. Lekin, ab chodo bhi, humara kaan thodke manogi kya ab." Meera wiggled out of her hold, rubbing her now red ear.
Garv chuckled but hid it with a cough, pretending the oil bottle was much more interesting than anything.
Amma gasped and turned towards Pallavi, assusingly. "Dekh rahi ho aapni chokri ko, Pallavi. Kaise kaichi jaisi jabaan ho gyi hai. Manne toh pehle kahi thi ki mat bhejo isse padhne ke lane bahar Garv ke saath. Lekin mari kisine ek na suni tab. Sun lete toh chori aise muh na chala rahi hoti. Satyanash, gyi na ab thari santan haath se." She ranted to Meera's mother. While Meera looked at her, flabbergasted.
Kahi ka kahi le ja rahi hai, ye amma bhi. Umar such mein sar par chadh gyi hai lgta. She thought in her mind.
"Chodiye na, Amma, bacchi hai abhi, bachpana gya nhi hai abhi iska. Mai baad mein samjha dungi." Pallavi tried to defend her daughter.
"Child?!" Amma looked at her horrified. "Iski umar mein mai shadi karke iske baap ko paida kar rhi thi. 22 ki ho chuki hai, iske liye rishte aane shuru ho jayenge abhi thode dino mein. Tab kya sabko yahi samjhati phiregi?"
Meera looked at her in disbelief. "Haa, haa, karado, karado, humara bhi baal biah karado aur bhej do yaha se kahi dur. Arre, abhi-abhi toh jawani shuru hui hai humari. Aur apke samay mein baal biah chalta hoga, ab ka jamana alag hai, Amma. Desh itta pragati kar raha hai, thodi pragati aap bhi karlo." Meera taunted in a not-so-subtle tone.
"See! Look at this girl. Getting shameless day by day. Jyada jawaani chadh rahi hai isse." Amma scowled, giving her a sharp look.
"Meera!" Pallavi scolded her, giving her a look to shut up. Meera made a face, looking at her mother as if to say, 'what was my fault in this?'
"Haye, mera bacha, thare ko hum dur kyun bhejenge? Tu toh humara pyara baccha hai, kahi dur nhi jane denge." Ragini said, lovingly, jumping in to dissolve the situation.
Meera made a pouty face and walked towards Ragini in a child like manner. "Bas humari chachi hi hai jo humse pyaar karti hai. Aur koi humse pyaar nhi karta. Nhi karta na?" She side hugged Ragini, who patted her head affectionately. ]
"Hey, drama queen, enough now. NoBOdY lOveS mE." He mimicked her in a high pitched voice. "Go make tea for me." He said with fake-stern expression.
"Kyuu? Abhi abhi toh baithe the hum." Meera whined. "My legs are aching."
"Really?—" he was cut off by a maid who entered the room.
"Malkin, sarkaar is back from his meeting, and chote sarkaar and Bade Sahab are also back from their inspection to the villages." She told Pallavi after bowing to Amma first.
"Okay, you go, ask the others to prepare a light meal for them." Pallavi said and dismissed her. The maid left.
Pallavi turned towards Meera and spoke. "Meera, go make tea for your baba." Meera nodded and stood up to walk towards the kitchen. She knew her Baba only liked the tea made by her. It was their thing.
"I'll come too. What will I do with the ladies now?" Garv added quickly, and stood up to follow behind Meera. They both made their way towards the kitchen.
On the way, Garv smacked her head lightly. Meera winced and gave him a questioning glare. "What was that for?" She questioned, annoyed.
"Did you decide how will convince the rest of the male species of our family about the little secret of yours?" He asked, rausing an eyebrow.
They reached the kitchen, and Meera took out a utensil to start making tea. "To have conversations, everyone needs to actually stay at home too. When one person is at home, the other is outside, and when the other comes home, the first one goes out. Everyone is so busy that no one really gets to be together at the same time." She complained.
Garv shook his head. "Really? Is that the real reason of are you just chickening out? Finding reasons to justify your cowardness, Meera dear?" He teased, grabbing an apple from the refrigerator.
"I'm not a coward, okay. You just wait and watch. They all must be together right now. I'll talk to them today itself. Aayi samjh?" She declared, firmly. She sounded confident, but her eyes betrayed her. And Garv saw that.
"Sure, let's see if you can keep this brave act in front of them. Warna toh bade baba ke samne muh mein dahi jam jata hai tumhari." He said, looking at her with a challenge.
A surge of determination flushed through Meera as she inhaled deeply, making a firm decision. She had to do it. She will do it. It's about her life and backing out now would mean a life of full of what-ifs. She didn't want a life like that.
"Aap bas dekhna, Baba ke samne jayenge, ankho mein dekh kar bina ruke, ye express train ki tarah sab bol denge." Meera stated, making a determinated face.
Garv chuckled at her, making her glare at him again. "Yeah, yeah, let's see." His tone was light-hearted to help her keep her nerves calm. But he truly wished she'd do it today.
____________________________
As said, the two of them made their way toward the living room, the tray of steaming cups balanced carefully in Meera’s hands. From inside came the low hum of voices, steady and weighty — a serious conversation was in progress.
Meera hesitated. Second thoughts pricked at her. She didn’t want to barge in and disrupt something important. What if they’re already in a bad mood? 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒐… 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰’𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏.
They stopped outside the door, neither of them willing to be the first to step in.
Garv shot her a look and motioned for her to knock.
Meera stared him dead in the eye, then lifted the tray in her hands as if to say, '𝑫𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏?' Garv bit back a laugh — and knocked anyway.
A faint "Come in" drifted out from the other side.
Garv turned to her again, gesturing that she should enter first. Meera shook her head firmly. “Jaa na,” he hissed under his breath.
Her eyes widened, silently pleading for a way out. With a sigh, Garv nudged her forward, following closely behind.
Inside, the men exchanged puzzled glances. Why had no one entered even after the knock? But the moment Meera stepped in, their expressions softened.
Meera smiled cheekily at the attention. Clearing her throat, she shot a pointed look at Garv before plastering on a bright, practiced smile and moving toward the gathering.
In the room sat six men in all: Virendra, her baba; Harish, Dhanraj, and Kulkarni — her father’s trusted men and advisors; Vanraj Dev Chowdhary, her chachaji; and Vikram Dev Chowdhary, her eldest brother, son of Virendra and Pallavi.
She served tea to the three men she had known by her father’s side since childhood, men who now smiled warmly at her. Then, turning to her own family, she placed the cups before them one by one.
"Aur ye rahi, Sarkar, aapki chai. Ye Bade Sahab ki… aur ye Chhote Sarkar ki."
Virendra and Vanraj patted her head affectionately as she bent to touch their feet, their blessings warming her heart.
She then moved toward Vikram, who handed her a small gift box. Her eyes lit up with excitement, her smile widening as she accepted it.
Garv, watching the scene unfold, couldn’t hold back. Stepping forward with a mock-serious expression, he asked, “Where’s mine?”
Vikram turned to look at his younger brother. "What yours? You're not little anymore." He said coolly, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly.
Garv gasped, overexagerated, clutching his chest like someone had stabbed him deep with grave betrayal. He opened his mouth to say something, but Vanraj, his father beat him to it.
"Tumhare hote huye humari gudiya kyu chai lekar aayi?" Vanraj spoke, narrowing his eyes at his son.
Meera, never one to back down after sensing a opportunity, chimed in betweem. "Wahi toh, dekhiye na chachaji pura samay jab hum chai bana rahe the aap sab ke liye. He was disturbing and taunting me in the kitchen." She put on an exaggeratedly distressed expression, her face the picture of innocent suffering.
At her words, even Virendra and Vikram turned their eyes toward Garv.
Garv’s own eyes went wide in disbelief. "Nhi, Bade Baba, Baba, Bhaiya, ye bas apni masoom si shakal ka fayda utha rahi hai, maine aisa kuch nhi kiya." Garv protested quickly.
But who was he fooling? Everyone knew Meera was the youngest and the most pampered of them all. Even Garv couldn’t resist that look she gave.
“Okay, fine. Sorry,” he muttered gruffly, earning a victorious sparkle in Meera’s eyes.
"Aapke sorry ka kya hum achaar dale? Just sorry isn't enough." Meera said, flicking her hair with mock arrogance.
Garv narrowed his eyes at her — an expression she mirrored with equal defiance.
“So? You expect me to bow down before you now? First, I apologized even when I wasn’t at fault, and now you’re throwing tantrums?” Garv shot back, his tone sharp.
Vikram could only shake his head, amused and exasperated at his younger siblings’ antics.
“Enough,” Virendra’s voice cut through, firm but calm. Instantly, Garv and Meera straightened, their playful duel dropping in an instant.
“Everyone, we’ll continue this discussion tomorrow,” he said. Hemish, Dhanraj, and Kulkarni exchanged nods before quietly exiting the room.
Meera slipped into the seat beside Virendra, resting her head on his shoulder and looping her arm around his.
“What did you both come here for?” Vikram asked, suspicion lacing his voice. He knew them far too well — when these two teamed up, there was always something brewing. And it wasn’t always…decent.
“Meeru wanted to talk to Bade Baba about something,” Garv said, a tight-lipped smile tugging at his mouth.
Meera’s head snapped toward him, her eyes wide with disbelief. How dare he put her on the spot like that?
Garv only nodded at her, encouragingly.
She shook her head.
He nodded again.
She shook again.
He urged once more.
She refused once more.
The silent battle continued — his nod, her shake, back and forth — until the others in the room were staring at them, utterly dumbfounded.
“What is it you wanted to talk about, Meera?” Virendra finally asked.
“I…actually…I…I wanted to… ask something. No, tell something…” Meera’s words tumbled over themselves, uncharacteristically unsure.
“Why are you hesitating? Speak clearly,” Virendra, Vanraj, and Vikram frowned almost in unison.
That was unlike her. One thing about Meera — she never held her tongue. If something was on her mind, she said it, plain and blunt. This hesitation meant only one thing: whatever she was about to say was bigger than they had imagined.
“I…I want to…” Meera’s fingers twisted nervously in the edge of her scarf.
“You want to what, Meera?” Virendra’s tone grew firmer now, urging her on.
Meera bit her lip hard. No. She couldn’t do this. Not yet.
“I want to…I want to go to...shopping!” Meera finally blurted out.
All four men froze, staring at her as if she’d just sprouted horns. Garv’s head whipped around so fast that Meera genuinely feared a ligament might snap.
“Shopping?” Virendra repeated slowly.
“Shopping?” Vanraj echoed, brows knitting.
“Shopping?” Vikram asked, suspicion thick in his tone.
“SHOPPING?!” Garv practically exploded, unable to believe what he’d just heard.
“Shopping,” Meera confirmed with a solemn nod, as if the word carried the weight of the world.
“You mean to tell us,” Vikram leaned forward, eyeing her carefully, “you went through all that drama just to ask about… shopping?”
Meera nodded meekly. Yes, it was the dumbest excuse anyone could have come up with — but it was her only way out. God, Meera, how do you always manage to make yourself look so stupid? she mentally scolded herself.
“Why were you hesitating so much this time?” Virendra pressed, his frown deepening. “You’ve never been shy about asking before.”
“Because…because I want to go shopping…” Meera’s gaze darted from one face to another before she finally blurted out, “…in Delhi!”
All heads snapped toward her again. “Delhi?” Virendra asked sharply.
“Yeah,” Meera replied, her tone far too casual.
“Why Delhi?” Vikram probed, suspicion tightening his voice again.
“Offho, Bhaiya! Kya aap bhi jasoosi par utar aaye ho? Forget it. Mujhe toh baat hi nahi karni aap sabse!” she huffed dramatically, standing up in a whirl, arms crossed like a sulking child.
"Chalo bhaiya hum chalta hai, hume bohot kaam hai na? chaliye jaldi." Meera said hurriedly, grabbing Garv’s arm and tugging him along before he could protest. Together, they slipped out of the room — her escape strategy executed to perfection.
“Am I the only one confused about what just happened?” Vanraj muttered, glancing at the others.
“Leave it, Chachaji. You know how they are,” Vikram said with a dismissive shake of his head. Outwardly calm, but inside, doubt churned. That behavior had been strange — suspiciously strange. And he wasn’t the only one in the room who felt it.
“Vikram, talk to them later,” Virendra instructed. Vikram nodded silently, and the men returned to the matters at hand.
“Are there enough resources — pesticides, fertilizers — available for the farmers? And what about the labor wage issue? Did you contact the capitalists?” Virendra asked, his voice steady, authoritative.
“Yes,” Vanraj replied. “We personally reviewed the supplies and inquired with every farmer. But…” he hesitated.
A frown tugged at Virendra’s forehead. “What is it?”
“The southern districts may suffer from water scarcity soon,” Vanraj explained. “Their resources are meager, and the old pipelines — their main water supply — were cut off to install a new line. Unless something is done quickly, they’ll be in real trouble. We need to contact the collector at once.”
Virendra nodded gravely. “Then I’ll have to give the collector a personal visit again.”
____________________________
"What was that in there?"
"What was what?"
"The blunder you caused."
"You're one to talk. Putting me in a spot like that and not even uttering a word of help. Toh aap toh rehne hi dijiye Garv babu. Ye pravachan kisi aur ko jake sunaiye hume nhi. Aayi samajh?" Meera narrowed her eyes at the man, hands planted firmly on her hips.
Her so-called ‘big’ brother — the one meant to shield her — had shoved her straight into the lion’s den without a second thought. And then, like a cowardly hyena, he’d slunk into the background, leaving her to face the kill alone.
"I did that to help you. If not now, if not you, then when, and who will tell them? I was just doing you a favor, okay. Be grateful, you ungrateful brat." He did the same, narrowing his eyes, putting his hands on his hips.
"Why didn't you just say the truth? But no, you had to go with if anything.. SHOPPING!" He threw his hands up in disbelief.
"If you so much of had a better save, then why didn't you say anything?"
"Because it wasn't mine to say, it was yours, Meera. At the end, you are the who has to fight your own battles. I can help you, but I can't win it for you. You do you. Why didn't you just say it?" His expression softened. Long gone was the Tom to her Jerry. The big brother care and concern showing in his tone.
"I...I got scared. What if they said no? I don't think I'd be able to take that. The two things I love, standing facing each other." Meera's shoulder slumped in defeat. Why did she had to be such a coward?
She sat on the terrace, leaning against the railing in the back. Garv sat beside her, keeping his hand on her shoulders.
"Meeru, listen to me. Firstly, no, you're not a coward." Did she say that out aloud?
"Secondly, you have to tell them. It's better sooner than later. You don't want to have a future full of regrets, yeah? You have to do it. Fight for what you love, Meera. Don't let fear overstep your determination."
Meera nodded. He was right. She can't let her demons hold her back. She was better than that. She would be better if she wasn't. "You're right. I have to do this." She smiled in determination.
The same determination she felt just a few moments ago, that betrayed her quicker than she'd anticipated...
No, this time, it is different.
Is it?
It is.
____________________________
MEANWHILE,
“The body was found in a jungle, sir. Near an abandoned cabin,” the inspector reported. “Although the location is Nareli, his wallet shows he’s a resident of Agra. The Nareli Thana SHO wants to transfer the case to us. They claim only the body was found there — nothing else.”
Harsh Dixit, DSP of Agra Police, sat at the head of the table, brows furrowed in thought.
“What’s the cause of death? And personal details?” he asked.
The inspector slid a file across to him. “All the information is in here, sir. His name was Vikas Gupta — real estate agent, age thirty-six. Married. Two children. Wife’s a homemaker, son’s in nursery, daughter’s in Class Five.”
Harsh nodded slowly, flipping through the file. The photograph of the corpse made him pause. Multiple stab wounds. Brutal. Precise. Too precise.
“Any shady history?” he asked, his gaze lingering on the lifeless eyes in the picture.
“None, sir. Not officially. He looks like a typical family man. No visible reasons to kill him.”
“What about the body? When are they sending it here?” Harsh asked, snapping the file shut.
“They aren’t, sir.”
Harsh’s eyes lifted sharply. “What?”
“They admitted it for post-mortem, but stopped once they handed the case over to us. The body isn’t in a condition to travel.”
Harsh’s jaw clenched. “How can they be so careless?” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “Fine. We’ll send our own forensic team there.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Alright. Do it. And dig into his background — every detail, no matter how small,” Harsh ordered. His team nodded and filed out.
Left alone, Harsh leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting back to the photograph. This isn’t just about stab wounds. There’s something more here…
He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. No answer. He tried again. Still nothing. His pulse ticked higher with every unanswered ring.
On the third try, the line clicked, and a deep, rugged voice growled on the other end. “What?”
"Saale, itna time lagta hai phone uthne mein?" Harsh snapped. "Tesri ring thi ye. Tera har baar ka yahi hota. When will you start taking me seriously? What if there was something serious? What if I was dying and asking for help?" He went out in irritation.
"Why did you call?" The voice on the other end was calm. Composed. Almost detached. A complete contrast to Harsh’s rising irritation — which only made him bristle more.
“Why? Can’t I call my best friend without any specific reason?” he snapped, frustration bleeding into his tone.
“I’m busy,” came the steady reply.
“Yeah, and I’m peeling onions here, right?” Harsh shot back sarcastically, pinching the bridge of his nose. At this rate, he thought grimly, he might actually need a doctor today.
"Good for you."
"You! Seriously, Dhruv Saxena? Do you even consider me your best friend, or am I just any other man for you?" He gasped in disbelief and betrayal.
"If you weren't my best friend, this call would've ended long ago."
"Not like this is any better." He muttered, sighing. Who was he even kidding? This was Dhruv, the most unhinged, uninterested, unsociable man he's ever known. Remind him again how they became best friends? That's right. Him tailing behind Dhruv in collage.
"Why did you call? Who died?"
"A real estate agent." Harsh informed, relatively in a calmer tone this time.
"And the reason you're calling instead of barging in here with the body is?"
"Those idiots..." He informed the whole situation to Dhruv. "...and now because of that, we have to send someone there."
"Okay. I'll ask someone to go."
"No. I would've done that by myself, but I want you to go," Harsh said, in a serious tone.
"You do know I'm a senior Forensic Scientist and the head of the department, right? I am not free to attend such matters."
"I know. I know. But it's not just a murder by stabbing. I think there's more to it." Harsh said, staring the dead's photograph in his hand.
"What do you mean?"
"I'll send you the picture of the dead body." Harsh said and sent Dhruv the picture. "Do you know what I mean now? Tell me if I am wrong but his chest..." Harsh said cautiously.
Dhruv studied the picture. As much as he could tell from it, it indeed wasn't just stabs. "You're right. His chest is yellow-green.. it may seem like usual blood swelling or infection, but it's not. It can't be, especially when he is dead."
Harsh nodded, even though he knew Dhruv couldn't see him. "That's what I thought. How can his chest be still like that when his whole body had gone pale." He said. The line went silent for a while, confusing him. "Dhruv?...Dhruv? What are you thinking?"
"I think I might know what this is, but I hope it isn't."
"What is it?"
"Billrubin."
