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Amrit woke up slowly, yawning as she stretched lazily on the bed. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, and she blinked sleepily, trying to recall how she had ended up in the bed. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she muttered to herself, "Yahan kaise aa gayi?"
The memory of falling asleep on the couch in the balcony flooded back, and realisation struck her like a warm wave. "He carried me," she mumbled softly, her hand instinctively moving to her cheek, her face heating up as the thought settled in. The image of Akshat carefully lifting her and carrying her inside played in her mind, and she blushed furiously, rolling onto her side with a grin she couldn't contain.
"He carried me!" she whispered excitedly to herself, the blush deepening. Then, the memory of her impulsive kiss on his cheek flashed before her eyes, and she groaned softly, rolling over again in embarrassment, hugging the pillow tight.
Just then, the sound of footsteps made her freeze. Akshat walked in, holding a cup of tea, his brow furrowed as he saw her rolling around on the bed. "What's wrong? Why are you rolling on the bed? Pet mein dard hai kya?" he asked with genuine concern, placing the cup of tea on the bedside table and moving closer to her.
Amrit's eyes widened in panic, and she quickly sat up, her movements hurried. "Nahi! Kuch nahi hua," she said with a nervous smile, her heart racing as she tried to calm herself. Her cheeks were still warm with the afterglow of her blushing, but she tried to play it cool.
Akshat gave her a suspicious frown, tilting his head slightly, but eventually nodded, not pressing her further. "Tumhari chai," he said, gesturing toward the cup. "Breakfast bhi bana diya hai maine, kha lena." His voice was calm but distant, and Amrit watched as he turned to walk toward the back of the room.
A frown formed on her face as she watched him walk away. Something felt off. Every morning, he would gently caress her hair, reminding her to take care before he left for work. Today, he seemed unusually distant, and the absence of that small gesture gnawed at her.
Pouting slightly, she picked up the cup of tea, staring at the steam rising from it.
Just as she was about to take a sip, she heard his footsteps again. She quickly looked up, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Akshat walking back toward the bed. He grabbed his phone from the edge of the bed, and then, unexpectedly, his eyes met hers.
Without a word, he reached out and gently caressed her hair, his fingers lingering for a moment. "Take care," he said softly, the warmth returning to his voice.
Amrit smiled, a wave of relief washing over her. With a final glance at her, he turned and left the room, leaving Amrit sitting there with her tea, her heart fluttering.
Amrit freshened up, feeling energized after a good night's sleep. She walked over to the dining table, where the delicious aroma of breakfast greeted her. A warm smile crept across her face as she sat down, savoring every bite of the meal her husband had prepared. "Tasty as always," she thought to herself. After finishing, she slipped into a yellow kurti paired with jeans, the bright color perfectly complementing her dusky skin. Standing in front of the mirror, she applied a small streak of sindoor in her hairline, the simple gesture filling her heart with a sense of belonging.
She headed to the small temple in the building complex since she didn't have one at home. A frown tugged at her lips as she noticed the absence of any deity's picture. She made a mental note to bring images of her gods, especially of Mahadev, but she knew she should discuss it with Akshat first. Stepping into the temple, she bowed her head, folded her hands, and began her daily prayers.
"Mahadev," she began, her voice soft but filled with emotion, "I always thought that losing Mumma was the greatest pain I had to bear. It still breaks me sometimes... but after listening to Akshat, I realize that his pain is far deeper than mine. Yet, I've never seen him broken. Please, keep your blessings on us, and give me the strength to bring him the happiness he deserves. Aur uss kritika ko aap aisi saza dena ki uske sare baal jhar jayen , uske chehre pe jhurriyan pad jayen, uske nails toot jayen aur chalte chalte wo naali me gir jaye aur uspe keede pad jayen uspe wahin naali me pade pade sad jaye." Her heart felt lighter after speaking those words, a subtle calm settling over her.
She paused, then added with a soft chuckle, "Aur haan, I almost forgot! Today Vedant bhaiya is performing his first surgery. Please bless him, Mahadev. Help him succeed."
Finishing her prayers, she took a deep breath, collected some prashad, and climbed the stairs with a renewed sense of purpose. As she reached the next floor, she spotted Vedant coming down, his usual composed demeanour intact.
"Good morning, Bhaiya!" she greeted him cheerfully, her smile wide and genuine.
Vedant stopped in his tracks, looking slightly surprised but pleased. "Good morning," he replied, his eyes softening at her bright energy.
"All the best for your first surgery today. I prayed for you!" she said with a grin, holding out the prashad to him.
Vedant blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting her thoughtfulness. "Thank you," he said, smiling warmly as he accepted the prashad. His hand rested on her shoulder, and he gave her a side hug.
"Aur tum itne din se ghar nahi aa rahi ho?" Vedant asked, his tone turning slightly more serious. "Mummy says she sees you in the garden every day, but Dad was complaining."
Amrit let out a small laugh, feeling a little guilty. "Sorry, Bhaiya. College jaana shuru kiya hai na, toh thodi busy thi." She then smiled reassuringly. "Par shaam ko aati hoon. I'll visit today for sure."
Vedant nodded in approval, though a playful smirk lingered on his face. "Good. Dad will be happy. Waise, you're glowing today. Special occasion?"
Amrit blushed lightly and shrugged it off, "Bas... achha lag raha hai aaj." She glanced down.
Nandini was busy maneuvering her scooty out of the parking lot when she noticed Rajat stepping out of his car. She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.
"Tum?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
Rajat, caught off guard by her tone, quickly recovered. "I was passing by... toh socha tumhe drop kar dun," he said casually, but his eyes darted around nervously, as if searching for something-or someone.
Nandini let out an exasperated sigh, feeling her patience wearing thin. For the past few weeks, Rajat had been popping up far too often for her liking. At first, it seemed harmless, but now it was starting to feel suffocating. She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly irritated.
"Rajat, listen. I don't know what you're trying to do, but I need to set some boundaries here," she started, her tone firm but controlled. "I don't have any interest in you, okay? So please stop showing up like this. Tum hamesha yahan aa jaate ho, picking me up, making excuses to see me. It's not cute, it's not thoughtful-it's invasive." She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in, before continuing. "I need space. I need you to maintain some distance from me. This isn't what I want."
Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, Rajat was left speechless. His face reflected a mix of shock and embarrassment, clearly not expecting such a harsh reaction.
"I... I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, Nandini," he stammered, clearly flustered. He hesitated, as if gathering his thoughts, then continued, "I didn't mean to... I just wanted to be your friend. And, um... actually, I don't have any... other intentions about you."
Nandini raised an eyebrow, scepticism evident in her expression. She crossed her arms, waiting for him to continue.
"I..." Rajat struggled with his words, his face turning a shade of red as he finally confessed. "I actually like that girl Vidya... jo mujhe har baar yahi dikhti hai. And I don't know where she lives, toh... I just come here hoping to catch a glimpse of her."
Nandini's eyes widened in disbelief. "Vidya?" she repeated, blinking in surprise. "Ohhh bhaii! Really?" Her serious expression softened into one of amusement, and she couldn't help but chuckle. "That's why you've been coming around here?"
Rajat nodded shyly, his shoulders relaxing now that the truth was out. "Yeah... I just want to talk to her, tumhare zariye," he muttered, still embarrassed but relieved to clear the air.
Nandini was stunned, but the misunderstanding made her feel a bit guilty for her earlier outburst. "Rajat, I'm really sorry for misunderstanding you," she said, her voice now much kinder. "I thought you were just... you know, trying to get too close. But Vidya, huh? Well, I can definitely help you with that... but only if she's comfortable with it."
Rajat's eyes lit up with hope. "I swear I won't make her uncomfortable. Nandini, I promise. I really didn't mean to make you feel weird either... but now that everything's clear, do you think we can at least be friends?"
Nandini smiled warmly, realising he genuinely had no ill intentions toward her. "Of course," she replied. "Friends." She extended her hand, and he shook it, a shy smile on his face.
"Thanks, Nandini," Rajat said, looking relieved.
Krishiv had been buried deep in work when his phone rang, the familiar number of Bulbul's school flashing on the screen. He answered, his usual calm voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "Hello, Mr. Krishiv speaking."
"Hello Mr. Krishiv, aapki beti ne aaj ek bacche ko bahot maara hai. Please come soon," the principal's stern voice echoed from the other end.
Krishiv's heart skipped a beat. "What??" he exclaimed, unable to believe what he had just heard.
"Haan, aap jaldi aaiye. We need to discuss this in person," the principal insisted, her tone grave.
"Okk, I'm on my way," Krishiv replied, grabbing his keys and rushing out of his office without a second thought. His mind raced with concern, wondering what could have possibly led to this. He could feel the urgency in his chest as he drove, heart thudding in sync with the passing streets.
When he reached the school and entered the principal's office, he saw a young boy sitting in a chair, tears rolling down his cheeks, sniffling softly. On the opposite side, Bulbul sat on another chair, her head bowed, her small body trembling.
Without hesitation, he rushed to her, kneeling beside her chair.
As soon as Bulbul saw him, her wide, watery eyes filled with relief, and before he could say anything, she flung her tiny arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder.
Krishiv was still hugging Bulbul when the woman approached them, her face twisted with indignation. "See! Aapki beti ne mere bacche ko kitna mara hai!" she exclaimed, pointing at her son who was still sniffling, a bruise forming on his arm.
Krishiv looked down at Bulbul, his voice gentle yet firm as he knelt down to her level. "Bulbul, what happened? Kyun maara aapne?" he asked, guiding her to a quiet corner for a private conversation. He needed to understand her side before addressing the situation further.
Bulbul hesitated, looking down at her shoes, her small hands clutching her dress tightly. After a moment, she spoke in a trembling voice, "Papa, woh... woh mere mumma ke baare mein bura keh rahe the. Keh rahe the ki sabke papa school aate hain, lekin mere papa kabhi nahi aate. Isliye unhone mumma ko bura bola." Her voice cracked with emotion, and Krishiv could see the hurt in her eyes.
Krishiv sighed deeply, his heart aching for his little girl. He pulled her into a comforting hug, gently patting her head. "Accha, ab shant ho jao, okay?"he whispered, feeling her tense body slowly relax in his embrace.
He stood up, holding Bulbul's hand tightly as they approached the other parent and the principal once more. His expression was composed, but his eyes held a quiet determination.
"Will you ask your son what he was saying about her mother?" Krishiv asked, looking directly at the woman. "First of all, teach your son basic manners. He said bad things about her mother first."
The woman looked taken aback, glancing nervously at her son. "Mera beta?" she said, her voice faltering as the reality of the situation began to sink in. She turned to her son, who looked down at his feet, his face red with guilt.
Krishiv continued, his tone calm but firm. "I understand that Bulbul shouldn't have raised her hand, and I'll make sure she knows that hitting isn't the right way to deal with things. But what your son said... that's also not acceptable. He hurt my daughter deeply, not just with words, but by disrespecting her mother."
The woman looked at her son again, this time with a stern expression. "Rishab, did you really say bad things about her mother?" she asked, her voice sharp with disappointment.
The boy hesitated for a moment, then gulped and nodded slowly, unable to meet anyone's eyes.
"Is this what I've taught you?" the woman said, shaking her head in disbelief. "How could you behave like this?" She took a deep breath, visibly upset. "Say sorry to her. Right now."
The boy shuffled forward, his voice small and contrite as he muttered, "Sholly," barely lifting his eyes to meet Bulbul's.
Bulbul, still holding Krishiv's hand, nodded quietly but stayed close to him, her small body leaning into his protective presence.
The woman turned back to Krishiv, her face softened with guilt. "I'm really sorry on his behalf. I didn't know he said such hurtful things."
Krishiv gave a small nod, his anger ebbing away now that the situation had been addressed. "It's okay. I understand kids make mistakes. Just... let's make sure they learn the right lesson from this," he said, his voice kind but firm, wanting to put an end to the conflict in a constructive way.
As Krishiv and Bulbul stepped out of the office and into the fresh air, he held her hand tightly, both relieved the situation was resolved.
"Bulbul, why didn't you call your mumma?" he asked gently, not wanting to sound too critical but needing to understand.
Bulbul hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty before she responded. "Wo gussha ho jaati na..." she mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "Vaise bhi, she seems to be upset aaj kal, and jab bhi I talk about my father. She gets very sad , I don't want to make her sad." She added, her voice softening as if she didn't fully understand the weight of her own words.
Krishiv stopped and crouched down to her level, making sure they were eye to eye. "Bulbul," he said seriously but kindly, "agar aapki mumma ko ye natak ka pata laga, toh you know na kya hoga?"
Bulbul's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Matter close, na?" she said, shrugging casually. "Vaise bhi, mummy bahot kam aati hain school ... time nahi hota na." She giggled, the innocence of her words tinged with an underlying sadness that Krishiv couldn't ignore.
Suddenly they suddenly heard a voice behind them.
"Bulbul's father!"
Both of them stopped in their tracks and turned around, only to find Rishabh's mother coming towards them with a smile.
Krishiv blinked in confusion. "Mujhse keh rahi hain?" he asked, pointing at himself in disbelief.
"Haan, tumse hi keh rahi hoon. You only said there na ki you are Bulbul's father, toh aur kisse kahengi!" Saumya replied, nodding in confirmation.
Krishiv raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Aisa kaha maine?" He asked, still not recalling when he claimed that and nodded.
"Jyada ho gaya na! Aapki mummy ko pata chala toh dono ki band bajayengi!" Krishiv said, giving Bulbul a knowing look, as if sharing a secret joke between them.
Rishabh's mother looked curiously at Krishiv. "Your name?" she asked.
"Krishiv Malhotra," he responded confidently. Before he could say anything else, Bulbul smacked her forehead in exasperation.
"Please forgive my son, and I also apologize on his behalf," Rishabh's mother said sincerely, misunderstanding the situation.
Krishiv shook his head with a smile. "It's all right, really."
Bulbul, still dramatically worried, muttered under her breath, "Now if she meets Mumma in the future, she'll tell her everything! Ham toh gaye!"
Feeling the panic rising, Bulbul quickly turned to Rishabh's mother with a pleading look. "Aunty, agar aap meri mumma se mili na, please unse kuch mat kehna. She will be upset na. Haan na, papa?" she nudged Krishiv.
Caught off guard, Krishiv blinked and then nodded quickly. "Huh? Haan haan, please, Bulbul ki mummy will be very upset," he said, trying to keep up with the story.
Rishabh's mother chuckled at their little act. "Aww, aap apni wife ko pyar se 'Bulbul ki mummy' bulate hain? So cute," she said, her tone filled with amusement as she observed Krishiv's nervousness. Krishiv awkwardly rubbed his eyebrow with a sheepish smile.
After a few more pleasantries, Rishabh's mother finally left, leaving both Krishiv and Bulbul standing in relief.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Bulbul let out a dramatic sigh of relief. "Bach gaye!" she exclaimed, shaking her head like they had narrowly escaped a disaster.
He smiled softly, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Chalo, go to your class now," he said, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, his heart swelling with affection for the little girl who had come to mean so much to him.
As she hugged him back, Bulbul looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "I love you," she said sweetly before placing a quick kiss on his cheek.
Krishiv's heart melted at her words, and he smiled, watching as she ran back towards her class, her small figure disappearing into the crowd of students.
Amrit and Vidya stepped out of the auto, with Amrit discreetly removing her mangalsutra and tucking it inside her bag. She quickly adjusted her hair, ensuring it covered the vermilion on her forehead.
"Yaar, tujhe dekh ke mujhe apni class ki nibbiyon ki yaad aa gayi jo apne boyfriend ke liye karwa chauth ka vrat rakhti thi aur sindoor laga ke aise hi chupa leti thi, Vidya teased, bursting into laughter.
Amrit shot her an annoyed look and lightly hit her arm. "Tune hi kaha tha!" she whined, feeling slightly embarrassed by Vidya's teasing.
As they dashed down the hallway, Amrit glanced at her watch, her face scrunching up in worry. "Vidya, itna jyada late ho gaya ye toh!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of panic and frustration.
Vidya, slightly out of breath but still carefree, shot back, "Haan, bas 15 minutes bache hain... Class nahi karte hain, bezzati ho jayegi." She grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying the idea of skipping.
Amrit narrowed her eyes, shaking her head. "Chup reh! Class kyun miss karni hai? 15 minutes hain abhi na." She wasn't the type to back down, even if they were cutting it close.
Vidya rolled her eyes playfully, muttering, "Haan, behen, ab kyun hi miss karegi class." The sarcasm was thick in her voice, but she followed Amrit anyway.
They reached the classroom just as Akshat, their professor, was pacing at the front, already deep into his lecture. He looked as serious as ever, his eyes focused on the notes in front of him.
Amrit's heart sank. "He will be so angry," she whispered, glancing at Vidya. Without another thought, she pulled Vidya's arm. "Chup ke chalte hain peeche ke gate se," she suggested, her voice hushed, as if Akshat might hear them from across the room.
They made their way towards the back entrance, crouching down to avoid being seen.
Akshat, who had already noticed Amrit's absence from the start, spotted two heads sneaking in from the back and sighed deeply. He was used to their antics by now but wasn't about to let them off easily. Without looking up from his notes, he spoke in a dry, sarcastic tone, loud enough for the whole class to hear.
"Oh, look, the stars of the show have finally graced us with their presence. If only we could all show such impeccable timing, we could start classes just as the bell rings to end them."
The entire class burst into laughter, but his sharp, stern gaze quickly silenced them. "Quiet," he commanded, his voice firm. The laughter died out instantly, leaving only the sound of papers rustling.
Amrit and Vidya, still hunched awkwardly, exchanged wide-eyed looks, realizing they'd been caught red-handed. Slowly, they straightened and stood up, both feeling the weight of Akshat's glare.
"Aren't you both a little too early?" Akshat quipped, folding his arms across his chest. "I mean, really. Just fifteen minutes left. Class khatam hone ke baad aati."
Vidya, never one to miss a beat, nodded enthusiastically. "Haan sir, I was saying the same to her, but ye meri sunti kahan hai!" She shrugged dramatically, throwing Amrit under the bus.
Akshat's eyes narrowed, his glare intensifying at Vidya's comment. Amrit shot Vidya a warning look and discreetly pinched her arm. "Shut up," she whispered harshly through clenched teeth.
"Sorry A...sir," Amrit stammered, correcting herself. "Traffic tha." Her voice was small, knowing full well that Akshat didn't buy it.
Akshat raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with disbelief. "Next time se 5 minute bhi late hua toh I won't let you both enter the class." he said sarcastically.
Amrit bit her lip, nodding nervously.
"Words, Amrit," he demanded, his sternness not wavering.
"Yes, sir," she quickly replied, her heart racing as she tried not to make more of a scene.
Akshat exhaled sharply through his nose, giving them both a long, hard look. "Fine. Sit down. And do not disrupt the class again," he ordered, pointing to the empty seats at the back.
Both of them quickly shuffled to their seats, heads down, trying not to draw more attention. As soon as they sat, Amrit pulled out her notebook, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She glanced up at Akshat, who had resumed teaching, and couldn't help but wonder how this stern, intimidating professor was the same person she lived with.
"Inko kya multiple personality disorder hai?" she muttered under her breath, scribbling on her notebook. "Dusht danav kahin ke," she added, making a face as she wrote.
Akshat continued teaching, pacing at the front of the room with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Today," he said, turning to face the class, "we will examine the use of fragmentation and myth in T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land. Eliot's work represents the disillusionment of the post-World War I generation, and through fragmentation, he mirrors the breakdown of traditional values, social norms, and even personal identity."
He paused, letting his words sink in, and immediately several hands shot up-mostly from the front rows where the girls sat eagerly awaiting his attention. A girl raised her hand.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Sir, is Eliot suggesting that humanity can't be put back together, that we're just broken beyond repair?" Sakshi asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
Akshat fixed his glasses nodding. "Good question. Eliot was indeed commenting on the fractured state of humanity, but he wasn't entirely hopeless. By invoking mythology, especially through the figure of the Fisher King, he hints at the possibility of renewal. His use of myth, like references to the Grail legend and Eastern philosophies, suggests that by looking to the past, we might find meaning in the present."
Vidya, sitting beside Amrit, leaned over and whispered, "Ye dekho, sirf doubt nahi, attention bhi lena chah rahi hai."
Amrit, focused on her notebook, gave her a look. "Stop overthinking it. They're just asking about the topic."
Vidya smirked. "Behen, unki queries ka matlab kuch aur hai. Tum nahi samjhogi."
Meanwhile, Akshat continued fielding questions. Another student, Priya, raised her hand, her cheeks flushed as she spoke. "Sir, can you explain how Eliot's use of myth relates to his exploration of time and history?"
Akshat nodded and walked over to her desk, peering into the notebook she had open. He was completely unaware that Priya was barely listening to his explanation, her face growing redder with every word he said.
"Eliot," he began, "believes that time is not linear. His use of myth creates a connection between past, present, and future. He suggests that everything, even human suffering, is cyclical. Myths from ancient cultures act as a lens through which the chaos of modern life can be interpreted. Do you understand?" he asked, still looking down at her notes.
Priya blinked and nodded quickly, not having processed half of what he said. "Yes, sir. Thank you."
Akshat nodded, satisfied with her response, and moved back toward the front of the room. Vidya elbowed Amrit as they both watched the interaction.
"Did you see that?" Vidya muttered. "She's not even paying attention. Yeh toh sirf unhe paas bulane ka bahana hai."
Amrit sighed, exasperated. "Vidya, stop it. He's our professor. If they have questions, they have the right to ask."
Vidya wasn't convinced. "Pakka yeh doubts nahi hain. Tum dekho na, girls hi itne questions pooch rahi hain, aur sirf unhi mein interest le rahi hain."
Before Amrit could respond, Akshat's voice broke through the soft murmurs in the room. "Alright, let's move on to Virginia Woolf," he said, pulling the class back into focus. "In Mrs. Dalloway, Woolf's use of stream-of-consciousness reveals the inner workings of her characters' minds. The narrative jumps from one thought to another, mimicking the way real thoughts work, often fragmented, disjointed, and unfiltered. How does this technique help convey themes of time, memory, and the self?"
This time, several more hands went up, but Vidya noticed how the girls in particular seemed far too eager. Akshat answered each question with his usual calm, insightful responses, unaware of the undercurrents of attention he was garnering.
Amrit sighed as Vidya continued with her suspicions. "Jyada mat soch, sab padh ke aate hain na, toh obviously queries hoti hongi," Amrit said, adjusting her bag on her shoulder as they stepped out of class.
Vidya raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Padhayi toh tu bhi karti hai, aur itni topper hai. Toh tujhe itni queries kyun nahi hoti? Aur bas inka hi subject important hai? Baaki professors ke lectures mein sabko itna interest kyun nahi aata? Saaf dikhta hai ki kuch ladkiyan sirf attention lene ke liye kar rahi hain. I mean, haan, kuch genuinely doubt poochti hain, but these girls... especially a few of them."
Amrit shook her head. "Tu bahot overthink karti hai, Vidya. Sab normal hai."
But as Vidya rolled her eyes, Akshat's voice cut through the remaining chatter of the class, pulling their attention back to him. He was wrapping up the lesson, his tone authoritative yet calm as he addressed the entire class.
"Before you all leave, I want to give you an assignment," he announced, his eyes scanning the room. "Your task is to write an in-depth analysis on the themes of alienation and fragmentation in the works of Virginia Woolf and T.S. Eliot. Focus on how they use these techniques to explore the individual's role in modern society. I expect detailed references to the texts we've covered, with proper citations. The deadline is next Monday. No extensions will be given."
A collective groan echoed through the class, but Akshat wasn't done. He removed his glasses and placed them in his shirt pocket, his sharp gaze once again scanning the room. "And I expect professionalism in your work. Plagiarism will not be tolerated. If you're struggling, come to me before the deadline."
As soon as his glasses were off, Amrit noticed the shift in the room's energy. Several girls, sitting near the front, were visibly swooning, their eyes fixed on him. She didn't blame them. Akshat, with or without glasses, looked undeniably attractive. There was something about the way his sharp features softened ever so slightly when he wasn't wearing them. She caught herself staring, momentarily distracted by how effortlessly good he looked in both versions of himself.
But just as she tried to refocus, Akshat's gaze unexpectedly landed on her. For a moment, their eyes locked across the room. Time seemed to slow as they stared at each other, and Amrit could feel her heart skip a beat. There was something in his look-intense, curious, almost as if he could read her thoughts. She swallowed, unsure of how to react, but before she could say or do anything, Akshat broke the gaze and cleared his throat.
"That's all for today. You're dismissed," he said curtly, turning on his heel to leave the classroom.
****
The evening was setting in, and the sky had turned a deep shade of indigo as the stars slowly began to emerge. Amrit stood by the window, her gaze drifting to the street below. The soft hum of city life outside did nothing to calm the anxious knot forming in her stomach. Akshat was usually home by now, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he might be upset with her after what happened in class earlier.
"He's going to scold me again," she muttered under her breath, rubbing her hands together nervously.
Her mind raced as she thought of ways to diffuse the situation. She paced the room for a moment before a spark of an idea crossed her mind. "Wait... He always makes himself a cup of black coffee when he comes home, right?" A slow smile spread across her face. "What if I make it for him today? Maybe that'll lighten his mood."
Amrit stood in front of the sleek, modern coffee machine, staring at it as if it were some alien technology. The machine was stainless steel, with a touch screen and several confusing buttons. It had compartments for coffee beans, water, and a frothing nozzle.
Amrit scratched her head, trying to recall the times she had secretly watched him prepare his coffee from the living room. Akshat always seemed so effortless with it, moving through the process like a seasoned barista. But despite those stolen glances, she hadn't exactly paid attention to the details.
"Okay, let's see... first, water." She grabbed the water jug and poured it into what she assumed was the right compartment. "Next, coffee beans." She spotted the container for beans and cautiously poured them in. So far, so good, she thought, feeling a small sense of accomplishment.
She pressed a few buttons on the touchscreen, but nothing happened. The machine didn't even whirr.
"Ugh, come on, work!" she muttered, pressing another random button in frustration. Still nothing. Panic started to set in as the minutes ticked by. Akshat could come home any moment, and here she was, standing in front of a lifeless coffee machine. She glanced at the machine's side, spotting a lever that she hadn't noticed before.
"Maybe this starts it?" she thought out loud and, without much consideration, she pulled it down with a bit too much force. The sound of the machine sputtering to life was a brief moment of relief-until it started making a strange grinding noise.
Suddenly, a cloud of steam hissed out from the side of the machine, and she jumped back in alarm. The grinding noise intensified, and then, with a loud pop, water started spilling from the bottom.
"Oh no, no, no, no!" she exclaimed, rushing to find something to mop up the mess. But the damage was done. The coffee machine made one final splutter before going completely silent, its screen now blinking with a red error message.
Amrit stood frozen, staring at the puddle of water on the countertop and the now-defunct machine. She felt her heart sink as the reality of what had just happened set in.
"I broke it... I broke the whole machine," she whispered in disbelief.
She touched the machine's side gingerly, but it didn't respond. Everything was soaked, the touch screen flashed with a malfunction alert, and the water was still dripping onto the floor.
"Wo vaise hi gussa honge upar se ye sab! Mere sath hi kyun hota hai aisa." She whined keeping hand on her head and punched her hand on the counter and somehow it went to Machine causing it to fall on floor breaking and she covered her mouth in shock.
She sat on the cold kitchen floor, her heart racing as she stared at the broken pieces of the coffee machine scattered across the tiles. Her hand instinctively flew to her mouth, muffling a gasp. "Hey Shiv ji!" she exclaimed, realizing the mess she had just created.
Desperate for a solution, her mind raced. "What if I just throw it in the dustbin?" she muttered, contemplating the absurdity of her plan. "Then I'll just say I have no idea where it went." A sense of determination washed over her as she made her decision. "Sahi hai ye," she affirmed, standing up and dusting off her clothes.
She quickly gathered the shattered pieces, trying to ignore the guilt creeping in. After cleaning the floor as best as she could, she made her way to the dustbin. She tossed the remnants of the coffee machine inside, feeling a fleeting sense of relief.
As she finished up, she heard the front door creak open, and her heart sank. Panic set in, and she rushed to the living room, snatching up her notebook and pretending to study as if she had been there the whole time.
Akshat entered the living room, his exhaustion palpable. He rubbed his temples, clearly fatigued from the day's events. After a long day of lectures, meetings, and shopping with Vishakha-who had insisted on spending time with him-he felt drained. He had to navigate the scrutiny of his family, who were suspicious about his late nights at the college office.
Amrit watched Akshat, his exhaustion clearly visible as he leaned back on the sofa, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She felt a surge of sympathy for him, and an idea sparked in her mind. Quietly, she stood up and made her way to the kitchen, determined to help ease his fatigue. She quickly filled a glass with cold water and returned to the living room, extending her hand towards him.
He opened his eyes, surprised to see her standing there. "Thank you," he muttered, taking the glass from her with a faint smile.
As Akshat finished drinking, he stood up and headed towards the kitchen. Amrit's stomach dropped, her nerves tightening as she anticipated what he might discover. She tried to focus on her notebook, but the words blurred as she clenched it tightly in her hands.
"Amrit," she heard him call from the kitchen, his voice tinged with confusion. "Where's the coffee machine? Have you seen it?"
Panic surged through her, and she swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure. "K...konsi...?" she stammered, forcing a nervous laugh. "Maine nahi dekhi. I hardly come into the kitchen."
Akshat stepped into the living room, his expression shifting from confusion to annoyance. "Kahan gayab ho gayi achanak? My head is aching," he said, rubbing his temples as if trying to dispel the stress of the day.
"Mai chai bana deti hun aapke liye," Amrit offered quickly, hoping to divert his attention.
"Nahi, tum padhai karo. I'll prepare it myself," he replied, shaking his head slightly.
"Ho gayi meri padhai," she insisted, trying to sound cheerful. "You're already exhausted. Aur chai toh maine kayi baar banaya hai, wo kharab nahi karungi."
Akshat looked at her, a frown crossing his features as he asked, "Matlab?"
"Wo...matlab," Amrit stumbled over her words, "you don't trust me in the kitchen, na? Isliye. Please, you should rest."
He sighed, the weight of exhaustion visible on his face. "You're right," he said, his voice softening.
Akshat entered just moments later, and his eyes landed on the mess. He shook his head, a mix of disbelief and amusement crossing his face as he bent down to pick up the remnants of the crushed biscuit package. With a slight sigh, he walked over to the dustbin, and Amrit's heart dropped when she realized what he was about to do.
"No, no, no," she thought frantically, her eyes wide as he opened the dustbin and inspected the broken pieces. His brow furrowed, and he turned to face her, his expression stern, eyebrow raised.
"Chupane ke liye koi aur jagah nahi mili?" he asked sarcastically, holding up the broken biscuits as evidence of her earlier chaos. His gaze was piercing, and Amrit fidgeted with her fingers, feeling small under his scrutiny.
The moment their eyes locked, however, his sternness seemed to fade. Amrit's eyes filled with tears, and she could see the shift in his expression as concern replaced his irritation.
"I'm sorry..." she began, her voice trembling. "Mujhe bata dena chahiye tha... but I... I thought you were already angry at me for the morning incident, and this would only make it worse." She sniffed, her heart aching at the thought of disappointing him. "But kasam se, maine jaan ke nahi toda."
As she wiped her tears away, the weight of her emotions broke free. "I just thought to prepare coffee for you. Subah late hui thi na, toh mujhe laga aap gussa honge... toh isliye... but that... that machine..." Her voice trailed off as the reality of her mishap hit her again. "I didn't know how to use it... aur pata nahi kaise..." she said, her voice cracking as she burst into more tears.
Akshat's demeanor shifted instantly as he panicked, dropping the broken biscuits into the dustbin. "Arre... shhh," he murmured, rushing over to her. His hand found her shoulder, and he gently wiped away her tears with his thumb. "Don't cry, please... it's okay... ek machine hi hai."
Amrit's tears flowed freely as she clutched the fabric of Akshat's shirt, feeling a whirlwind of emotions-guilt, fear, and a hint of relief. "It must be so costly... I'm so sorry... upar se I lied... I'm really sorry," she sobbed, her voice trembling with remorse.
Akshat, sensing her distress, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. His other hand gently patted her head, offering her the comfort she desperately needed. "It's okay, rona band karo," he said softly, his voice warm and soothing, like a balm for her frayed nerves.
Amrit looked up at him, her big eyes glistening with tears, and she fisted the fabric of his shirt tighter. "Aap dantoge toh nahi?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, vulnerability lacing her words.
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Nahi datunga," he replied, a playful smile spreading across his face. "But aaj se aisa kuch hua toh just tell me, okay? Aur kahin chot toh nahi aayi tumhe?" He pulled back slightly to inspect her, concern etched in his features.
She shook her head vigorously, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
Akshat smiled, a soft, genuine expression that made her heart flutter. He reached out and playfully pinched her cheek. "You are adorable," he said, his eyes sparkling with affection.
As he stepped back, heading towards the washroom to freshen up, Amrit felt her cheeks heat up at his words. She touched the spot where he had pinched her cheek, a smile creeping onto her lips as she replayed the moment in her mind.
After preparing the tea, Amrit carefully balanced the steaming cup on a tray.
"I'm in the bedroom. Tum dekho," he said, his voice barely masking his surprise as he retreated back into the bedroom, leaving her alone to handle the unexpected visitor.
Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Amrit opened the door and was greeted by Preeti, a familiar face who often brought warmth and laughter into their home.
"Hii Preeti aunty!" Amrit exclaimed, her voice bright and cheerful, hoping to inform Akshat of the guest's arrival without causing any alarm. She couldn't help but notice Akshat closing his eyes in exasperation behind her.
"Chilla kyun rahi hai?" Preeti teased, her eyes twinkling. "Haan, mai na kadhi banai thi aur teri favourite hai na, toh I brought some for you." She held out a container with a proud smile, clearly eager to share her culinary creation.
Amrit's face lit up with gratitude. "Thank you so much!" she said, genuinely touched by the gesture.
"Andar aaiye na," Amrit invited, hoping to create a comfortable atmosphere. She always loved having Preeti over, especially when she could offer her a cup of tea in return for the delicious dishes she brought.
"Thodi der ke liye," Amrit added, trying to persuade her as she stepped aside to let Preeti in, glancing back at the bedroom to see if Akshat would join them.
Akshat, who was peeking from the bedroom door, widened his eyes in disbelief at Amrit's invitation.
"Baad me... abhi kuch kaam hai," Preeti saidm
"Thodi der ke liye," Amrit persisted, her eagerness evident. She could feel Akshat's panic radiating from the other room and knew he was likely facepalming at her insistence.
"Ye pagal toh nahi ho gayi!" Akshat's voice was barely a whisper, but Amrit could sense his exasperation. She rolled her eyes slightly, knowing she was walking a fine line but determined to keep the peace.
Preeti chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she tilted her head slightly. "Accha thik hai," she declared, her tone playful yet sincere.
Amrit's heart raced at the unexpected acceptance, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Kya? Aap sach me aa rahi?" she asked, her voice rising with excitement and surprise.
"Tune hi bola na," Preeti replied, a teasing smile gracing her lips. She was enjoying this back-and-forth, and Amrit couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and anxiety.
"Haan... aapne kaha tha na ki kuch kaam hai aapko," Amrit said, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall the earlier conversation. She hoped she hadn't pushed too hard, sensing the underlying tension.
"Haan, kaam toh hai, but you insisted na," Preeti countered, her expression shifting slightly as she regarded Amrit with a hint of curiosity.
Amrit felt a wave of panic wash over her. "Aap... aap pehle kaam kar lo. Phir milte hain," she urged, her voice a bit too hurried, betraying her nerves. She didn't want Preeti to sense anything unusual or to suspect what was really happening in their home.
Preeti frowned slightly, a knowing look crossing her face. "Acha, if you say so," she replied, her voice softening. "Ok... chal, khayal rakhna," she said with a gentle smile, turning to leave.
As Akshat stepped out of the bedroom, he narrowed his eyes at her, "Dinner bhi karne ke liye bol deti," he remarked sarcastically, making Amrit smile sheepishly in return.
"Unhe shaq na ho isliye kaha tha," she replied, her voice light but her heart heavy with the weight of the moment. Akshat shook his head in amusement as he settled back onto the couch, taking a sip of the tea she had prepared.
The warmth of the tea spread through him, easing the exhaustion that had settled in his bones after a long day. Amrit opened the container Preeti had brought and looked at the kadhi inside, but as the familiar aroma wafted toward her, a vivid memory surfaced in her mind, pulling her back to a simpler time.
---
Flashback
The dining table was set, a vibrant spread laid out by her mother, Komal. The sun cast a golden glow through the window, illuminating the small kitchen as Amrit sat at the table, her face scrunched in dissatisfaction.
"Kya yaar mumma, teen din se kadhi hi de rahe ho," she whined, her voice tinged with playful annoyance. The same creamy yellow dish sat before her, its fragrance filling the air.
"Par teri favourite hai na," Komal responded, a smile dancing on her lips as she placed another serving in front of her daughter.
"Haan par daily thode na kha sakte hain... Jaldi hi bore ho jaungi aise toh. Mera man nahi ye khane ka," Amrit insisted, crossing her arms and pouting, but deep down she appreciated her mother's effort.
"Accha, aaj kha le, kal se nahi banaungi," Komal said with a teasing wink, knowing well that Amrit would eventually succumb to the comfort of her cooking.
Reluctantly, Amrit picked up her spoon and took a half-hearted bite, scrunching her nose in exaggeration.That day marked the last time she ate her mother's kadhi.
---
As the memory faded, Amrit's eyes brimmed with tears.
She blinked rapidly, trying to push the emotions back down, but it was no use. The thought of her mother and those cherished moments stirred a deep longing within her.
Akshat noticed her distress, setting the cup down with a soft thud. "Kya ho gaya?" he asked, concern etching his features as he reached over to wipe a stray tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.
She shook her head, unable to articulate the flood of feelings threatening to overflow. "Kuch nahi... bas..." she trailed off, her voice catching in her throat as the tears continued to spill over. The memories of her mother, the kadhi, and the laughter they had shared consumed her, and she felt an overwhelming urge to cry.
"Amrit," Akshat said gently, concern deepening in his voice. "What's wrong? Please, talk to me."
But the words caught in her throat. The ache of loss was too much to bear, and she could feel the pressure building behind her eyes. She stood up abruptly, unable to hold it together any longer. "Main washroom ja rahi hoon," she said hurriedly, her voice shaky. Without waiting for a response, she rushed into the washroom, shutting the door behind her.
Akshat watched her go, worry etched across his face. He could sense her emotional turmoil and felt a pang in his chest. He wanted to follow her, to comfort her, but he knew she needed space. Instead, he sat there, thinking what he could do to ease her pain.
Nandini parked her scooty and hopped off, stretching her arms after a long day. Just as she turned around, she spotted Vedant stepping out of his car. He looked visibly exhausted, his usually neat hair disheveled, and his white coat hung loosely from his hand.
"Ye kya huliya banaya hua hai? Kisse pit ke aa rahe hain, Doctor sahab?" she teased with a playful grin, stepping in front of him to block his path.
Vedant glanced at her, his red, swollen eyes meeting hers. The exhaustion etched across his face startled Nandini, and her grin faded. Concern quickly replaced her teasing as he rubbed his temples, clearly trying to relieve the pressure building in his head. Without a word, he began walking past her.
"Kya hua? Is there any problem?" she asked, her voice softening as she hurried to keep pace with him, genuinely worried now.
"Kuch nahi... mind your own work, Nandini," he mumbled, his voice low and heavy with fatigue. He didn't even look at her as he kept walking, leaving her standing there, stunned.
Nandini watched him go, her brows furrowing in concern. This wasn't the Vedant she knew. Something was definitely wrong, but she didn't push further, watching as he went towards the elevator. He rang the doorbell to his apartment.
Preeti opened the door, her usual warmth lighting up her face as she greeted him cheerfully. "Aa gaya mera chand ka tukda!" she exclaimed, her voice full of affection.
But Vedant didn't respond, not even offering her a glance. He walked straight past her and headed towards his room. The door slammed shut behind him with a resounding thud, leaving Preeti standing in the hallway, her smile slowly fading into concern.
After some time, Amrit came out of the room, her face calm but slightly distant. She saw Akshat sitting on the sofa, waiting for her. As soon as he noticed her, he stood up and walked over, gently holding her hand.
"Thik ho?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. Amrit gave a small nod and forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Akshat's heart clenched; she had been slowly coming back to her real self, but now, it seemed like something had shifted again.
He hesitated for a moment before letting go of her hand, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Wo... I'm so exhausted today... toh dinner banane ka mann nahi hai," he said, trying to sound casual.
"Mai bana dun?" Amrit offered immediately, and Akshat's eyes widened in mild panic.
"Noo!!" he blurted out quickly, then realized how he sounded. "I mean... no need," he quickly corrected himself, fumbling with his words. "Ham... bahar... I mean... you know..." He scratched his eyebrow, trying to think fast. "We can have our dinner out."
Amrit blinked, a little surprised at the sudden idea. "Bahar?" she repeated.
"Yeah, so I thought bahar hi khana chahiye aaj. So, get ready." He tried to sound nonchalant, even though his heart was racing, hoping she wouldn't ask too many questions.
Amrit's brows furrowed slightly. "Bahar... agar kisi ne humein saath me dekh liya toh?" she asked, her voice a little unsure. They hadn't gone out together like this before, and the idea made her both excited and nervous.
Akshat thought for a moment, then shrugged, trying to keep things light. "Thoda late se chalenge," he suggested with a reassuring smile.
Amrit's uncertainty started to fade, replaced by a subtle excitement. The thought of going out for the first time with her husband filled her with a sense of anticipation she hadn't expected. She nodded, a small smile finally tugging at her lips.
"Okay," she said softly, her eyes brightening just a little as she turned to get ready for their unexpected outing.
Amrit stood in front of her wardrobe, her brows furrowing in frustration. "Kya pehnu!" she muttered to herself, rummaging through her clothes. Her eyes fell on a simple yet elegant white anarkali suit, and a small smile tugged at her lips. The white fabric, soft and delicate, seemed to glow against her warm complexion, enhancing her natural beauty. She wore a pair of silver jhumkas that shimmered as they dangled from her ears, adding a touch of grace to her appearance.
As she twirled a little in front of the mirror, admiring her reflection, she pouted. "Kash mai bhi thodi gori hoti," she whispered under her breath, her fingers gently tracing her cheek. But then a memory flashed in her mind, one that brought a smile to her lips. She quickly shook off her thoughts and focused on the soft clinking sound of the anklets on her feet, which were a precious gift from him.
Meanwhile, Akshat adjusted his shirt, folding up the sleeves of his neatly ironed shirt and fixing his collar. He was just about to check himself in the mirror when he heard the soft chime of anklets. His ears perked up, and he turned towards the door, his breath catching as Amrit stepped into view.
The white of her anarkali matched her skin perfectly, making her look ethereal. The way the fabric flowed around her with each step, and the light jhumkas that swayed with her movements, gave her an air of timeless beauty. But what caught his attention most were the anklets - the same ones he had gifted her. Seeing them on her feet filled him with a quiet warmth, and he couldn't help but smile.
She noticed his gaze and met his eyes, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks as she caught him staring. He looked dashing, the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt giving him an effortless charm.
"Chalen?" he asked softly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence between them.
She nodded, still smiling, and they walked out together, both feeling the unspoken connection between them deepening.
Anika and Vihaan were seated at the restaurant, glancing through the menu.
"Kya order karen?" Vihaan asked, glancing up at Anika.
"Aap jo kahen," Anika responded with a soft smile, her eyes meeting his.
"Nahi aap jo kahen," Vihaan insisted, his tone playful as he leaned back in his chair. Anika smiled more broadly.
"Ek kadhai paneer kar dete hain aur roti," Anika finally suggested.
Vihaan nodded in agreement, calling the waiter over to place their order.
---
Meanwhile, at the entrance of the same hotel, Akshat and Amrit entered, Amrit clearly hesitant.
"Akshat, koi dekh lega hum kyun aaye hain... mai ghar pe kuch bana deti," Amrit said in a hushed tone, her eyes darting around nervously.
"Isliye to aaye hain," Akshat mumbled under his breath.
"Kya?" Amrit asked, not hearing him properly.
"Keh raha hun, it's ok. Tum itni pareshan kyun ho rahi? Koi movie thodi hai ki jab hum bahar aaye hon to koi aur bhi aa gaya ho ghar ka," Akshat said casually, his voice filled with amusement.
"Phir bhi, ye sab paise ki wastage hai," Amrit grumbled, making a face as she glanced at the menu.
"Ek din mein mera khazana nahi lut jayega, relax," Akshat chuckled lightly, shaking his head at her concern.
Just then, a familiar voice interrupted their moment. "Arre Amrit, tum yahan?" came Anika's voice from the other side of the restaurant.
Amrit froze, her eyes wide with panic. Slowly, she turned her head and spotted Anika and Vihaan sitting a few tables away. She gulped nervously and quickly looked back at Akshat, but to her dismay, he was no longer next to her.
"Tum yahan kaise? Aur wo bhi akele?" Vihaan asked curiously, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Amrit.
"W..wo..." Amrit stammered, trying to come up with an excuse. She suddenly felt a tug on her dupatta and glanced down, spotting Akshat crouched under the table, signaling her to keep quiet. "Wo haan, mujhe bhook lagi thi aur late ho gaya tha, to socha bahar se kha leti hun," she said nervously, giving them a forced smile.
"Ohh, come join us," Vihaan offered kindly.
"No no, it's fine. Aap log ki special date hai, mai kharab nahi karna chahti," Amrit quickly declined, hoping to avoid any more awkwardness.
"So what? Hum kabhi bhi date pe aa sakte hain. Tum aao," Anika insisted, standing up from her seat to offer a chair to Amrit. But as she did, her hand accidentally hit a water jug on the table, splashing water everywhere.
"Ohh, I'm so sorry," Anika apologized quickly.
"It's ok. Hum uss table pe chalte hain," Vihaan said, standing up to move to another table.
As Vihaan walked, his foot accidentally hit something under the table. He bent down to see what it was and was shocked to find Akshat sitting there with a blank expression.
"Bhai aap!!" Vihaan exclaimed, his eyes wide in surprise.
Akshat, realizing he had been caught, stood up awkwardly, trying to act casual.
"A..arre sir, aap yahan!" Amrit exclaimed, pretending to be just as surprised as everyone else.
"Bhaiya, aap table ke neeche kya kar rahe the?" Anika asked, confused.
"W...wo... mai actually... joote saaf kar raha tha," Akshat stammered, trying to come up with an explanation.
"Hein? Table ke neeche baith ke?" Vihaan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Arre, mai table ke neeche thodi tha! Wo to mai shoes saaf kar raha tha, isliye aise baith gaya, galti se," Akshat said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Par aap yahan kaise?" Vihaan pressed further, still suspicious.
"Tum dono ko dekha to aa gaya bas," Akshat said, trying to brush it off. "Arre Amrit, tum bhi ho yahan?" he added, pretending to notice her for the first time.
"Haan, Amrit aise hi aayi thi, to humne usse apne saath join karne ko kaha... aap bhi aaiye na," Anika offered with a smile.
"Ohh... ok," Akshat said, trying to appear calm as he sat down.
They all settled into their seats. Vihaan, trying to break the tension, asked, "Kya order karen? Anika ne kadhai paneer kiya hai... Amrit, tum batao, kya logi?"
"Tum yahan ka paneer tikka try karo, bahut accha lagega," Anika suggested warmly.
But before Amrit could respond, Akshat blurted out, "Usne khaya tha, usse pasand nahi aaya tha," and immediately bit his tongue, realizing his mistake. Amrit mentally slapped herself, cursing his lack of subtlety.
"Aapko kaise pata?" Vihaan asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
"W...haan wo... maine Vidya aur Amrit ki baatein suni thi, to wahi..." Akshat quickly gave a lame excuse.
"Bhaiya, aap wahan padhane jate ho ya students ki panchayat sunne?" Vihaan teased, laughing.
Amrit pressed her lips together, trying hard not to laugh as Akshat rubbed his neck awkwardly.
"Wo... galti se sun liya tha bas," Akshat muttered, clearly embarrassed.
Everyone chuckled, and the awkward moment slowly passed as they continued their meal.
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