MaAn in reversed roles

Anu’s POV

I was still half-asleep, curled up under the soft mountain quilt, when the “tringggg” of a video call jolted the room to life. Anuj groaned beside me, arm still flung over my waist.

“Whoever that is,” he murmured into the pillow, “tell them lovebirds are on a honeymoon and unavailable.”

But I already saw the name blinking on the screen.

Devika.

I tapped to answer, and before I could say a word, chaos exploded from the other end.

“KAPADIA-JOSHI!” Devika shouted — hair tied up in a bun, a spatula in one hand, and what looked like paint stains on her forehead. “I’m sending them back by courier! All four of them! Choose express or economy!”

In the background, Samar was dancing with a mop, Pakhi was arguing with Mukku over a playlist, and Choti Anu had used sketch pens to turn the living room wall into what she called ‘a rainbow planet.’

Anuj sat up beside me, rubbing his eyes. “Are we under attack?”

“YES,” Devika snapped. “A coordinated mission by your children. I let them stay over for one night. ONE. NIGHT. And they’ve turned my house into a jungle gym slash musical concert slash unicorn colony!”

Choti Anu popped into view behind her and chirped, “Mummy! Tell Devika Maasi that she promised we could make pancake towers!”

Devika stared into the camera like she was about to combust. “Pancake. Towers.”

I was laughing so hard, tears spilled down my cheeks. Anuj, now wide awake, grinned at the screen.

“Devika, breathe. You’ve handled worse.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, but not four mini-you’s at once. They all inherited your drama, your sass, and your appetite. Samar’s making cold coffee at 7 a.m. Pakhi ordered glitter stickers in bulk. Mukku wants to redecorate my guest room with neon posters. And Choti Anu keeps singing lullabies to my plants!”

We could barely breathe from laughing.

“Please,” Devika begged dramatically, “come back before they open a TikTok café in my living room.”

“We’ll leave tomorrow,” Anuj promised, stifling a chuckle.

Devika sighed like a soldier surrendering. “Just… pack backup parents, please. And coffee. Lots of it.” Then she winked. “But I’m glad you both got your time. You look… happy.”

And just like that, the call ended, and the room fell quiet again.

I lay back down, heart still light from laughter.

“You think she’s serious?” I asked.

“Deadly,” Anuj said, turning toward me. “You ready to go back?”

I looked at the ceiling for a moment. Our little escape was magical. Healing. But I also missed the noise. The madness. Our madness.

“I think I am,” I whispered. “Let’s just… hold this a little longer.”
---

Just as the laughter from Devika’s chaotic video call began to fade, Anuj's phone buzzed.

Twice.

Then again.

He picked it up from the nightstand, thumb swiping across the screen absentmindedly — still smiling from all the madness Devika had narrated.

But that smile didn’t last.