So let's begin!
GIRLS’ BEDROOM – MIDNIGHT
The room is calm, bathed in silver moonlight. Outside, the world is asleep. Inside, the three sisters are bundled together under one blanket — warm, peaceful… for now.
Aashvi twitches in her sleep, her eyelids fluttering. A faint smile appears on her lips.
In her dream — she’s dribbling a football across a huge field, crowds cheering, the goal post just ahead.
Aashvi (murmuring in sleep, excited):
“Goal… abhi goal… Aashvi… champion… haan!”
And then — with all her sleepy might, she lifts her leg and —
THUD!
A loud kick lands square on Vanya’s side. Vanya squeals awake as she’s launched off the bed like a startled kitten.
Vanya (screaming, half-asleep):
“Aaaaaaaaiiiiii!”
She lands on the floor with a soft thud and immediately starts wailing.
Vanya (crying):
“Mummmmmaaaa! Aaaaahh!”
Aashvi snaps awake, blinking — sees Vanya on the floor — and bursts into uncontrollable giggles.
Aashvi (laughing, clutching her stomach):
“Hahaa! Vanu football ban gayi! Hahahaha—”
Kikvi, startled by the noise, sits up and sees the scene — Vanya crying on the floor and Aashvi howling with laughter.
Kikvi (yelling at Aashvi):
“Aashi! Pagal hai kya? Itni zor se kick kyun maara Vanu ko?!”
She scrambles down from the bed, rushes to Vanya, who’s sniffling with her face buried in her tiny palms.
Kikvi (hugging Vanya, checking her head):
“Vanu, lag toh nahi gaya? Dikhana, kaha lagi? Rona mat, main hoon na!”
Meanwhile, Aashvi is still laughing so hard she can barely sit straight.
Aashvi (through giggles):
“Football samajh liya maine Vanu ko! Goal kar diya bed se bahar! Haha— Maza aa gaya! Kya goal kiya h aashi.. Proud of you!”
Vanya’s sobs stop for a second. She lifts her teary face and sees Aashvi laughing at her misery and praising herself for this.
Her expression darkens. The tears dry instantly — replaced by pure, tiny fury.
Vanya (angry, wiping tears):
“Tujhe hasi aa rahi hai?! Main gir gayi aur tu has rahi hai mujhpe?! Tujhe toh mai! ”
Before Kikvi can react, Vanya lunges at the bed, grabs a fistful of Aashvi’s hair, and yanks.
Aashvi (squealing):
“Aaaaah! Vanu! Baal mat kheench! Pagal ho gayi hai kya?!”
Vanya (shouting):
“Tune mujhe kick kaise kiya?! Football samajh rakha tha mujhe?!”
She tugs harder. Aashvi squeals and tries to free herself — but ends up grabbing Vanya’s braid in revenge.
Aashvi (yelling back):
“Football hi thi tu! Goal karna zaroori tha! Aashi kabhi nhi haarti”
The two start wrestling on the bed, pulling each other’s hair, growling and squealing. Their tiny limbs flail, the blanket flies off, pillows scatter to the floor.
Kikvi, stuck in the middle, tries desperately to separate them.
Kikvi (panicking):
“Bas karo! Aashi chhod! Vanu tu bhi—!”
But in the chaos, Aashvi’s elbow knocks Kikvi over. She tumbles sideways, landing with an oof.
Kikvi (annoyed, yelling):
“Mummaaaaaa! Yeh dono pagal ho gaye hain!”
Meanwhile, Vanya is still on a warpath, trying to smack Aashvi’s arm while yelling:
Vanya (furious):
“Agli baar mujhe kick kiya na toh main teri naak tod dungi!”
Aashvi (giggling even through the fight):
“Goal karungi toh main hi — champion Aashvi! Hahaha— Ow! Baal mat kheench!”
The midnight silence of the house is shattered by giggles, squeals, and tiny threats — the sisters’ peaceful cuddle officially replaced by a full-blown, messy wrestling match.
The room is a battlefield now — pillows on the floor, blanket half dangling, one soft toy face-down in the corner as if it gave up and fainted.
Aashvi and Vanya are still locked in a hair-pulling, squeal-filled war. Vanya’s tiny hands yank at Aashvi’s braid while Aashvi tries to push her off — both growling like tiny tiger cubs.
Kikvi, determined to stop this madness, crawls between them again.
Kikvi (pleading, panicking):
“Vanu chhod! Aashi bas karo! Koi jeetne wala nahi hai! Tum dono pagal ho gaye ho kya?!”
But Vanya, in her fury, accidentally kicks Kikvi’s leg while wriggling to get a better grip.
Kikvi (yelps):
“Owww! Vanu! Mujhe kyun maar rahi hai?!”
She tries to grab Vanya’s hands, but in the struggle, Aashvi’s elbow knocks Kikvi’s shoulder.
Kikvi (half crying, half scolding):
“Aashi! Dhyan se! Mujhe hi sabse zyada lag raha hai!”
Vanya seizes her moment — she leans forward and gives Aashvi’s arm a tiny bite.
Aashvi (screeches):
“Aaa! Vanu! Tujhe toh main—!”
She tries to flick Vanya’s forehead but hits Kikvi’s cheek instead by mistake.
Kikvi (howls, fed up):
“Aaaa! Main kyun referee bani hoon?! Mummaaaaaa!!”
---
BELA AND MAHIR'S ROOM– SAME TIME
Bela, half asleep in her robe, and Mahir, in his night t-shirt, stand frozen outside the girls’ door — eyes wide at the shrieks and scuffle noises echoing through the house.
They glance at each other.
Mahir (deadpan whisper):
“Football match ya WWE?”
Bela (exasperated):
“Mujhe laga punishment ke baad shaanti ho jayegi… yeh toh jung hai!”
---
GIRLS’ BEDROOM – MOMENTS LATER
The door bursts open.
Bela storms in first, Mahir right behind her.
They find the scene:
Vanya sitting on top of Aashvi’s tummy, hair tangled, cheeks puffed with anger.
Aashvi grabbing Vanya’s arm, trying to roll her off.
Poor Kikvi kneeling on the bed, hair messy, her cheek red, looking utterly betrayed by humanity.
Bela (booming voice):
“Kya ho raha hai yeh?!”
All three freeze. Like deer caught in headlights.
Vanya’s tiny fist is mid-air over Aashvi’s shoulder. Aashvi’s hand is tangled in Vanya’s braid. Kikvi’s eyes dart between both — the ultimate peacemaker, now sporting tiny battle bruises.
Mahir (trying not to laugh):
“Koi batayega bhi ya bas free-style wrestling hi chalegi?”
Aashvi points at Vanya.
Aashvi (defensive, panting):
“Isne baal kheench diye! Main sapne mein goal maar rahi thi—”
Vanya cuts in, glaring.
Vanya (shouting):
“Isne mujhe kick maar ke bed se giraya! Football samajh rakha tha mujhe!”
Kikvi (miserable, tiny voice):
“Mumma mujhe sabse zyada maar padi hai… main bas rokne aayi thi…”
Bela closes her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose.
Bela (firm, exhausted):
“Aashi. Vanu. Neeche. Abhi.”
They both clamber off the bed sheepishly. Vanya’s hair is a wild nest, Aashvi’s braid half undone. Kikvi rubs her shoulder dramatically.
Mahir tries not to chuckle but fails — turning away quickly.
Bela (stern, pointing at Aashvi and Vanya):
“Koi aur goal ya punch nahi hoga samjhi? Ek kick aur pada kisi ko toh main khud free kick lagaungi!”
Both nod vigorously.
She lifts Kikvi’s face, inspecting her cheek and shoulder.
Bela (softening for Kikvi):
“Tujhe kyun referee banne ki zarurat thi, haan? Sabse zyada thappad toh tujhe hi lag rahe hain.”
Kikvi (pouting):
“Aap hi toh sikhate ho stop fighting… main try kar rahi thi…”
Bela sighs, pulls her in for a small side hug, then turns to the other two mini wrestlers.
Bela:
“Ek aur awaz aayi toh is football team ko penalty milega — alag alag kamre mein sulaungi samjhe?”
The trio nods fast.
Mahir claps his hands softly.
Mahir:
“Bas. Ab sab wapas bed pe. No more football. No WWE.”
They crawl back under the blanket — Aashvi and Vanya side-eyeing each other but quietly lying down. Kikvi wedges herself between them again — just to be safe with PTSD.
Bela gives them one final mom-glare.
Bela:
“Good night. Sahi waali good night. Aur kisi ko goal maarne ki zarurat nahi hai.”
Aashvi (muttering as she glares at Vanya):
“Tujhe kal dekh lungi. Bina warning ke baal kheecha na…”
Vanya (mutters back):
“Tu bhi dekh lena. Jo kick maari thi na... badla toh milega.”
Bela (turns back):
“Raat bhar murga banna pade toh? Chalega?”
Both (instantly):
“Nahi Mumma!”
They duck under the blanket like good little chickens.
She switches off the lamp. Mahir blows them a mock flying kiss. They step out, shaking their heads — leaving behind the three troublemakers finally snuggling back into uneasy but peaceful silence.
---
GIRLS’ BEDROOM – EARLY MORNING
Soft sunlight filters in through the curtains. The house is peaceful — too peaceful.
Not for long.
Aashvi, eyes gleaming with mischief, wiggles out from under the blanket. Vanya and Kikvi still sleep, innocent and unaware.
She slides open her secret ‘Prank Kit’ — a battered box overflowing with plastic bugs, markers, flour, and other devilish treasures.
Aashvi (whispers to herself, smirking):
“Kal raat baalon ka badla… Vanu, aaj toh tu gayi!”
She tiptoes to Vanya’s side, carefully lifts her pillow, and places a terrifyingly real-looking plastic lizard next to Vanya’s tiny hand.
Aashvi (suppresses a giggle):
“Ab aayega asli mazaa…”
She backs away like a ninja, already picturing Vanya’s shriek.
---
BELA & MAHIR’S ROOM – MOMENTS LATER
Bela sleeps deeply, a neat stack of files and her favourite pen beside her. Mahir snores lightly, dreaming away.
Aashvi creeps in.
She swaps Bela’s real pen with a squeaky prank pen that quacks like a duck. She snickers at her masterpiece.
Aashvi (proud whisper):
“Mumma ko bhi special gift milega…”
Next, she tiptoes around Mahir’s side of the bed, pulls out her marker, and carefully doodles:
— Big round cartoon glasses
— A giant curly moustache
— A tiny crown right on his forehead
— A crooked joker grin on his chin
She steps back to admire her art.
Aashvi (murmurs):
“Perfect piece — Papa the Great Clown!”
---
LIVING ROOM – MINUTES LATER
Next trap: the classic bucket.
She drags a small stool, balances a bucket of water on the half-open corridor door where Bela always passes.
She nudges it — perfect wobbly balance.
Aashvi (grinning wickedly):
“Bye bye Mumma’s dry hair…!”
---
GIRLS’ BEDROOM – CONTINUOUS
Kikvi snores softly, curled up like a kitten. Aashvi sneaks back in, carrying a bowl of flour.
Aashvi (whispers):
“Referee ji… ab tum bhi cartoon banogi.”
She dumps a huge puff of dry flour right over Kikvi’s face. White dust poofs in the air — Aashvi almost chokes trying not to laugh.
Aashvi (hushed chant):
“Done! Prank Queen Aashvi!”
---
GIRLS’ BEDROOM – MOMENTS LATER
Vanya’s shriek shatters the peace.
Vanya (screaming):
“Aaaaaaiiii! Chhipkali! Chhipkali! Mummaaaa! Papaaaaa! Bachaooo!”
She jumps up, spots the lizard, and scrambles to the other end of the bed.
Vanya (glaring at Aashvi):
“Aashi! Main tujhe nahi chhodungi! Chhipkali mere bed mein! Aaj tu gayi”
---
BELA & MAHIR’S ROOM – SAME TIME
Bela rubs her eyes, half awake.
Suddenly Vanya’s screams echo. She hurries toward the door — pushes it open — and WHOOSH!
The bucket tips perfectly.
A waterfall of cold water drenches her from head to toe. Her robe sticks to her, hair dripping.
Bela (gasps, deadpan):
“Aashiii…”
---
BEDROOM – SAME TIME
Mahir jolts awake at the commotion, blinking at drenched Bela.
Mahir (groggy):
“Kya hua? Sab theek—?”
Then he notices Bela staring at him — half laughing.
Bela (bursts out laughing):
“Apna chehra dekhiye Mahir ji…”
Mahir grabs his phone, flips to the front camera — freezes.
His face is a doodle disaster.
Mahir (stunned):
“Aashiii! Yeh kya kiya?!”
Bela’s laughter doubles. She wipes her eyes, still dripping.
Mahir (mock offended):
“Bahut hasi aa rahi hai? Apna bucket shower bhool gayi kya?”
They exchange death glares — but both are stifling giggles.
---
GIRLS’ BEDROOM – MEANWHILE
Vanya chases Aashvi around the bed, waving the plastic lizard like a weapon.
Vanya (yelling):
“Tujhe bhi chhipkali bana dungi! Baal kheench lungi tere!”
Kikvi sits up groggily — and flour flies everywhere from her hair and face. She’s a powdered snowman.
Kikvi (coughing, squeals):
“AASHIII!”
Vanya freezes mid-chase and bursts out laughing at Kikvi.
Vanya (pointing, laughing):
“Kiku dekho! Bakery bun ban gayi poori!”
Aashvi collapses laughing.
Aashvi (gasping):
“Meri snow girl! Haha—!”
Kikvi (fuming):
“Aashi tu gayi ab! Ruk kaha bhaag rahi hai!”
She lunges at Aashvi — just as Vanya jumps too. The three tumble into a pile, flour and giggles flying.
---
LIVING ROOM – MOMENTS LATER
Vanya and Kikvi chase Aashvi through the house — squealing, tackling, tripping over cushions.
At the front door, the bell rings.
Still dripping wet, Bela opens the door — it’s the parcel delivery guy. He freezes, sees Bela soaked and furious — bursts into a small laugh.
One glare from Bela — his smile dies.
She goes to the room to grab the pen to sign — and ad she pushes it squeaks loudly. Bela yelps, dropping it. The man blinks at her. Inside, Aashvi and Vanya are wrestling again — this time Vanya pinned under Aashvi, Kikvi the dusty referee taking accidental kicks.
The delivery guy stares — drops the parcel and flees for his life.
Aashvi stands cornered — giggling, hair wild, flour marks everywhere.
Bela and Mahir stand together:
Bela dripping wet.
Mahir’s face a doodle cartoon.
They exchange a look — exhausted but amused.
Bela (dryly, to Mahir):
“Lagta hai humari beti prank queen se prank minister ban gayi hai.”
Mahir (wiping his doodle moustache):
“Agli baar main bhi plan banaunga… isse double revenge.”
Vanya appears behind Aashvi, plastic lizard ready.
Vanya (evil grin):
“Ab Aashi ki baari hai!”
Aashvi squeaks — tries to run — but Kikvi and Vanya pounce. They tackle her to the floor. Flour, squeals, giggles erupt again.
Bela shouts:
“BAS! Ab band karo yeh circus!”
But she catches Mahir’s face again — and bursts out laughing.
Bela (laughing, pointing):
“Joker lag rahe h aap Mahir ji! Bilkul cartoon!”
Mahir (mock outrage, pointing a finger at her):
“Accha? Mai cartoon lag raha hoon aur tum Madam.. bheegi billi se kam lag rahi ho kya?! Pura shampoo ad ban gayi ho!”
Bela (hands on hips):
“Main toh phir bhi cute lag rahi hoon — aap toh circus ke raja ban gaye h!”
Mahir (folding arms, fake glare):
“Waah! Bheegi billi mujhpe hans rahi hai? Dekh lena, Bela… main bhi revenge lunga!”
The girls pause mid-fight, see their parents bickering like kids — and burst into fresh giggles.
Like that, the house echoes with squeals, laughter, scolding, and love — the perfect start to another day in the chaos kingdom.
DINING ROOM – BREAKFAST TIME
The table is set with toast, jam, parathas, fruit bowls — and three grumpy little faces. Well… two grumpy, one giggling.
Vanya and Aashvi sit opposite each other, both arms extended — fighting over the butter dish like it’s a championship trophy.
Vanya (pulling):
“Maine pehle liya tha! Tujhe sabse pehle chipkali mili thi na?! Ab butter toh mujhe milega!”
Aashvi (gritting teeth, pulling harder):
“Teri wajah se Mumma ne mujhe do glares zyada diye! Butter meri apology hai!”
Kikvi, seated at the head like royalty, munches on her paratha and watching them like it’s live television.
Kikvi (snickering):
“Best breakfast entertainment ever…”
Bela, seated beside them, has her arms crossed, dripping hair now tied in a messy bun, still fuming.
Mahir, on the other side, sips his tea stiffly — his face clean now, but the phantom of doodles still haunting his dignity.
Bela (glaring at Aashvi):
“Prank queen ki toh subah se battery full charge hai. Butter se shuru kiya, shampoo se khatam karungi.”
Mahir (to Aashvi, flat):
“Mujhe toh lagta hai tumhara art career shuru ho gaya h — mere chehre se hi.”
Aashvi (whining):
“Arre Papa voh toh art therapy thi! Aap tension-free lag rahe the!”
Mahir:
“Mere tension ka reason tum hi ho.”
Vanya (still tugging the butter):
“Aur mai chipkali se chutkara chahti hoon!”
Aashvi (mocking):
“Tu toh chhipkali se dosti kar le — waise bhi dono ek jaise cheekhti ho.”
Vanya (gasps):
“Mummaaa! Aashi phir se!”
Bela (calmly):
“Aashi… ek aur lafz bola toh butter bhi cancel, breakfast bhi cancel. Direct broom mode on.”
Aashvi freezes, hands in air like surrender.
Kikvi bites her toast to stop laughing. Then points at Mahir.
Kikvi (grinning):
“Papa abhi bhi thoda joker lag rahe ho… agar woh daadi dobara bana doon marker se toh?”
Mahir (mock horror):
“Tum bhi gaddar nikli Kiku?!”
Bela smirks, buttering her toast at last.
Bela (to Mahir, teasing):
“Dekha? Yeh sab aapke genes hain. Artist bhi, prankster bhi. Full Mahir 2.0.”
Mahir:
“Tumhare bhi kam nahi — dekho na, tum abhi bhi Mumma ho kar sabse zyada drama kar rahi ho.”
Bela (raises brow):
“Main drama kar rahi hoon? Kuch der Pehle ki joker wali smile bhool gaye kya?”
Aashvi, Vanya, and Kikvi giggle in unison — a rare moment of team unity.
Mahir (sighing):
“Main apna butter leke balcony mein jaa raha hoon…”
He grabs the butter, but the girls protest in chorus.
Aashvi:
“Papa! Hume bhi chahiye!”
Vanya:
“Mujhe bhi toast banana hai!”
Kikvi:
“Mujhe sirf maze lene hain, butter nahi chahiye!”
Mahir rolls his eyes and sits back. Bela shakes her head, but a small smile escapes.
Bela (mutters):
“Yehi hai hamari shaanti bhari subah…”
Mahir (dry):
“Shaanti? Tumne toh bucket se shaanti dho daali thi…”
The table is a battlefield of toast crumbs, butter knives, and the world’s longest butter tug-of-war.
Aashvi and Vanya are still locked in combat — each pulling the butter dish like it’s their life’s mission.
Aashvi (growling):
“Tu kal mere baal kheechne ke liye sorry bole Pehle.. uske bina butter nahi le sakti tu!”
Vanya (snaps back):
“Tu yeh chipkali aur kal ki kick ke liye sorry bol pehle! Warna butter toh mai bhi nhi chodungi!”
Bela, arms crossed, watches them with the world’s deadliest Mom glare. Her hair is tied up in a hasty bun — still a bit damp from the prank disaster.
Mahir, nursing his tea, eyes flicking between them and his toast like he’s regretting every fatherly decision.
Mahir (dryly, to Bela):
“Dekho Bela — prank minister ki cabinet meeting chal rahi hai.”
Bela (rolling her eyes):
“Yeh sab aapki training hai Mahir ji. Chhota joker, chhoti billi — sab aapke hi bacche hain.”
Mahir (mock gasp):
“Accha tumhare bhi h na jaise.. Maine akele ne itni badi army khadi kar li h na.. tum toh Mamta ki Devi ho.. Nhi nhi Bucket ki Devi keh do seedha.”
Bela glares at him — flicks a tiny drop of water from her wet bun right at his arm. He flinches dramatically.
Mahir:
“Arre! Dekha? Assault ho raha hai breakfast table pe! Witness ho sab!”
Kikvi, sitting between the chaos with her paratha, suddenly BURSTS into laughter — real, open, belly laughter that makes her eyes disappear and shoulders shake.
Kikvi (through giggles):
“Papa… Mumma… aap dono toh bacche ho! Hahahaha!”
Her giggles bubble over — loud, musical, rare.
Aashvi and Vanya freeze mid-tug. They look at Kikvi — then at each other — then grin wide, soaking in her big laugh.
Aashvi (softly, happy):
“Kiku… has rahi hai!”
Vanya nods, all the fight forgotten for a second.
Bela and Mahir look at each other — their irritation replaced with warm, soft smiles at their middle cub finally laughing freely.
But then Kikvi notices everyone staring at her — Mumma’s wet hair, Papa’s grin, Vanya and Aashvi wide-eyed.
Suddenly she goes stiff. Her giggles fade. She lowers her head, clutching her paratha like she did something wrong.
Kikvi (tiny voice):
“Sorry… main… bas… sorry Mumma…”
Bela blinks — exchanges a knowing glance with Mahir.
He nods.
Bela leans forward, gently lifts Kikvi’s chin.
Bela (soft, warm):
“Arre Kiku… sorry kyun? Tere hasne se hi toh ghar ghar lagta hai.”
Mahir reaches over, flicks her nose lightly.
Mahir (smiling):
“Ek aur baar hasi sunni hai. Teri hasi se sab prank maaf.”
Vanya leans in, bumps shoulders with Kikvi.
Vanya:
“Kiku, tujhe haste dekh ke hi toh maine Aashi ko butter de diya.”
Aashvi snorts.
Aashvi (rolls eyes, but grins):
“Ha! Jhooth mat bol — main toh chhodne wali thi…”
Kikvi blinks at all three — at Mumma, Papa, her sisters — and a shy, wobbly smile blooms back on her face.
A second later, Vanya pokes Aashvi. Aashvi pokes her back. Kikvi giggles again — then all three dissolve into giggles at once.
Bela throws her hands up, muttering:
Bela (mock surrender):
“Bas! Ghar nahi — circus chal raha hai breakfast pe.”
Mahir holds out the butter triumphantly.
Mahir:
“Shanti! butter — sabko milega.”
They all reach for it together — hands clashing, laughter echoing — a messy, sticky, loud promise that no prank, no scolding, and no squeaky pen could ever break this team.
LATE MORNING — SEHGAL HOUSE
The trio was already off to school. Bela is folding laundry in the living room when her phone buzzes.
Caller ID: “Principal – Green Valley School”
She frowns.
Bela (muttering):
“Ab kya kiya teeno ne…”
She quickly picks up.
Bela (polite but wary):
“Good morning, sir. Bela Sehgal here.”
Principal (on phone, warm):
“Good morning, Inspector Sehgal. Sorry to disturb you — but if you could spare some time today, there’s something I’d like to discuss in person.”
Bela (alert, a little tense):
“Is everything alright? Did something happen with the girls?”
Principal (chuckling lightly):
“Nothing of that sort. But it is important. Hope to see you within the hour.”
Bela, still confused, grabs her bag, quickly scribbles a note to Mahir and sends a message:
> “Getting called urgently to school. Not for kids. Principal sounded serious. Will update. — .”
he grabs her keys and heads out.
---
GREEN VALLEY SCHOOL — PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE
The office is calm. A cup of tea rests on the table as the principal stands to welcome her.
Principal (smiling):
“Inspector Sehgal, please have a seat. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
Bela (still cautious):
“I was worried… I thought maybe it was about Aashvi or—”
Principal (interrupting gently):
“Not at all. In fact, this is about you.”
Bela straightens, confused.
Principal:
“We have a growing need for someone who can handle discipline… values… and mentorship. Not just a teacher, but a figure of strength and reason. Someone these children can look up to.And with your daughters here, your presence would be even more impactful. You already are a role model to many.”
Bela (taken aback):
“But… I’m the SHO of our zone. School teaching? I mean… with all due respect…”
Principal:
“I’ve done my research, Bela ji. You used to teach at the criminology department in City Women’s College six years ago, didn’t you?”
Bela (quietly, surprised):
“Yes… before I cleared the services and took the posting…”
Principal (sincerely):
“We believe that kind of knowledge, confidence, and experience… could inspire a whole generation of students.
We want you on board as a mentor — life skills, values, personality development. If that suits you.”
Bela leans back in the chair, a whirlwind of thoughts crossing her mind. She takes a breath.
Bela:
“I’d like to think this over… maybe make a call, if that’s alright?”
Principal (nodding):
“Of course. Please take your time. The canteen is quieter this time of day.”
---
SCHOOL CANTEEN — MOMENTS LATER
Bela walks into the nearly empty canteen and heads to a corner table. She dials Mahir, heart still unsure.
Mahir (picking up):
“Bela? Sab thik hai? Teeno ne phir kuch kiya kya? ”
Bela (softly):
“Haan sab thik h… but kuch unexpected hua.”
She quickly explains everything — the principal’s offer, the mention of her teaching past, the request to return in a new role.
There’s a pause on Mahir’s end.
Mahir (gently teasing):
“Oho… toh meri biwi ab teacher bhi banne wali hai? Uniform se blazer mein transition?”
Bela (half-smiling):
“Mahir ji, main serious hoon…”
Mahir (voice warm now):
“I am serious. Bela… do you want to say no because you’re unsure — or because you forgot how much you loved teaching?”
Bela (quiet):
“Main bas… dar rahi hoon. Kya main fir se start kar sakti hoon? SHO banna ek roop hai… lekin classroom mein khade hokar bolna… usme emotion alag hota hai. Impact alag hota hai.”
Mahir:
“Toh fir wohi reason hai tumhare haan bolne ka.
Kyunki tum sirf kanoon nahi, insaaniyat bhi samjha sakti ho.
Aur main jaanta hoon, Bela… tumhare andar ab bhi wohi teacher chhupi hui hai — jise kabhi sirf duty ne chup karwa diya tha.”
Bela (slowly, a tiny smile forming):
“Aapko lagta hai main kar paungi?”
Mahir (proudly):
“Mujhe lagta nahi… main jaanta hoon.
Aur tumhare teen best students already tumse roz padte hain.”
Bela chuckles at that — warmth rushing back into her spine.
Bela:
“Kaise kar lete h aap.. Aap h toh sab manageable lagta hai…”
Mahir (softly):
“Hamesha hoon.”
She glances outside the canteen window, where a few kids are playing quietly in the courtyard. Something stirs inside her.
She takes a deep breath… her decision quietly forming.
PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE — MOMENTS LATER
Bela returns to the principal’s office, her stride more confident now. The moment she steps in, the principal looks up expectantly.
Bela (calm, smiling slightly):
“Sir… I’m in. I’d like to take this up.”
Principal (delighted):
“Wonderful decision, Inspector Sehgal — or should I say Ma’am Sehgal now?” (chuckles)
“I promise, you’re going to change more lives here than you even realize.”
He presses a buzzer. A young teacher enters — bright-eyed, clipboard in hand.
Principal:
“Miss Rhea, please take Ma’am Sehgal for a walkthrough of the premises. Show her around the departments she might be mentoring.”
Miss Rhea (excitedly):
“Of course, sir! It’s an honour, ma’am. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Bela (gracious):
“Let’s just say I’m here to learn first, teach later.”
---
SCHOOL CORRIDORS — MID-DAY
Miss Rhea leads Bela through the school, pointing out the activity rooms, senior and junior wings, and the newly designed auditorium.
Bela walks with a natural authority — suit crisp, expression warm but observant.
As they pass classrooms, some students spot her and gasp.
Student 1 (excited):
“Aree dekho sab! Yeh toh SHO Madam h na?”
Student 2 (whispering):
“Haan yeh ek baar aayi thi yaha safety seminar ke liye, She was so cool!”
Some students run to the door.
Students (together):
“Good morning, Ma’am!”
Bela (smiling, pausing):
“Good morning, heroes. Focus on the board, not the corridor.”
They giggle and return to their seats. Bela continues walking — her fingers brushing lightly against the corridor railing.
A part of her that had been dormant — the teacher, the guide — slowly awakens again.
---
GRADE 1-B CLASSROOM — SAME TIME
Meanwhile… in a certain chaotic classroom, three familiar little girls are creating silent mayhem.
Aashvi is whispering across the row to Kikvi while pretending to write.
Aashvi (whispering):
“Miss ne bola tha silent reading… par main toh English ke beech beech mein golgappa imagine kar rahi hoon.”
Kikvi (giggling):
“Mujhe toh pizza dikh raha h, Aur ma’am ki voice sun ke lag raha hai jaise woh bhi bore ho rahi ho…”
Vanya (softly):
“Mujhe lagta hai Miss ko chocolate deni chahiye. Fir unka mood happy ho jaayega.”
Teacher (snapping suddenly):
“Aashvi! Kikvi! Vanya! Enough whispering. I can see everything. Eyes on your books!”
The trio straightens instantly… but then Aashvi mutters behind the book again.
Aashvi (grinning):
“Kitni nazar hai Miss ke paas… mujhe lagta hai unhone CCTV lagwa rakha hai aankhon mein.”
Vanya:
“Bhootnath Miss!”
They all stifle giggles.
---
SCHOOL CORRIDOR — OUTSIDE GRADE 1-B
And just then… Bela and Miss Rhea turn the corner, walking right toward Grade 1-B.
Bela pauses by the classroom door… something drawing her to peek inside.
She tilts her head slightly and sees three heads hunched over books... barely suppressing laughter.
Miss Rhea (whispering):
“Class 1-B. Cute but notorious. Ma’am, you might recognize someone in there…”
Bela (suppressing a smirk):
“Oh, I recognize them alright…”
She quietly watches the trio — amused, mildly exasperated, and full of silent love.
Bela (to herself):
“Yeh teacher life bhi shayad utni hi challenging hogi jitni SHO wali thi…”
SCHOOL CORRIDOR — OUTSIDE CLASS 1-B
Miss Rhea’s walkie-talkie crackles softly.
Voice (through speaker)
(crisp)
“Miss Rhea, Class 5-A needs you — the civics group has doubts again.”
Miss Rhea turns to Bela, slightly apologetic.
Miss Rhea
“Ma’am, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Let me just handle this.”
Bela
(smiling warmly)
“Go ahead. I’ll just look around.”
Miss Rhea nods and hurries away. Bela begins strolling down the corridor, pausing beside glass panels, peeking into different classes. Her expression softens as she watches little ones solve math sums, colour, or listen wide-eyed to their teachers.
She stops again outside Class 1-B, peering in with a faint smile — when
INSIDE CLASS 1-B
The teacher stands at the front, arms crossed, exasperated.
Teacher
(sternly)
“Aashvi Sehgal! Enough is enough! Get out of my class! This is the fifth time I’ve asked for silence!”
Aashvi blinks her big eyes innocently.
Aashvi
“Ma’am, main toh bas Vanya ko samjha rahi thi ki—”
Teacher
“Quiet! Is your classwork complete?”
Aashvi hesitates, then mumbles under her breath.
Aashvi
“…No ma’am.”
Teacher
(mockingly)
“Louder! Whispering the whole period but can’t answer my question loudly?”
Aashvi flinches and says it louder.
Aashvi
“No ma’am.”
The teacher lets out a sarcastic laugh.
Teacher
“Wonderful! Number one in pranks, number one in disturbing the class, and now number one in leaving work incomplete. Your parents should be very proud of this achievement.”
Aashvi’s face falls, her fists clench — but outside the door, Bela’s jaw tightens even more dangerously.
Teacher
“Out! Get out of my class right now. I won’t tolerate incomplete work here.”
Aashvi picks up her half-done notebook, shoulders slumped like a puppy in trouble.
From their benches, Vanya and Kikvi exchange a look.
Vanya
(hissing under her breath)
“Yeh teacher kuch zyada nahi bol rahi?”
Kikvi
(low growl)
“Sahi mein. Team Aashvi ki leader ki koi insult kare yeh hum bardasht nahi karenge…”
They share a defiant nod. Suddenly, both stand up.
Teacher
(eyebrow raised)
“Yes? Now what?”
Kikvi
(fearless)
“Ma’am… hum dono ki books bhi incomplete hain.”
Vanya nods vigorously beside her.
At the door, Aashvi pauses, flashes a proud grin back at them.
Aashvi
(muttering like a hero)
“Team Aashvi never surrenders.”
The teacher sighs in disbelief and rolls her eyes — she knows these three too well.
Teacher
“Perfect. Stand right there — both of you. No sitting for the rest of the period.”
She waves Aashvi away.
Teacher
“And you — out!”
---
OUTSIDE THE CLASSROOM
The door creaks open. Aashvi steps out, mumbling under her breath.
Aashvi
(grumbling)
“Bas thoda baat kya kiya… sab teachers ko drama hi chahiye…”
She turns —
— and freezes.
Right in front of her stands Bela. Arms folded. One eyebrow raised.
Aashvi
(tiny voice)
“Mummaaaa…?!”
Bela
(dangerously calm)
“Haan. Main. Aur tum? School ke corridor mein fashion show karne aayi ho?”
She steps closer, shoes echoing ominously. Aashvi instinctively backs away.
Aashvi
“Woh… Miss ne misunderstanding mein… thoda confusion ho gaya tha—”
Bela
(mock surprise)
“Haan? Miss ne misunderstanding mein tumhe corridor ke tour pe bhej diya haina?”
Aashvi smiles sheepishly, stepping back inch by inch.
Aashvi
“Bas Vanu ko thoda sa explain kar rahi thi… bas thoda…”
Bela
“Tum samjha rahi thi ya sabko pareshaan kar rahi thi — wo mujhe acche se pata so don't you try and act smart in front of me.”
Aashvi
(tries to deflect)
“Mumma… aap yaha kya kar rahi ho? Aapko kaise pata chala—?”
Bela
(smirking)
“Surprise! Bas yuhin… ghoom rahi thi… Principal sir ke saath baat hui. Ab lagta hai main bhi yeh school ka hissa ban jaungi…”
Aashvi
(horrified)
“Whattt! Mumma! Nahi! Aap teacher ban rahi ho?!”
Bela
(sweet, sinister smile)
“Woh toh tumhare Principal Sir ne decide kiya hai beta. Tumhari class teacher ki training kal se shuru ho rahi hai.”
Aashvi clutches her head dramatically.
Aashvi
“Yeh toh cheating hai! Police station mein bhi aap… ab school mein bhi? Mujhe toh safe zone hi nahi mil raha!”
Bela (pretending to think):
“Hmm… toh tum keh rahi ho ki ab Mumma se bachne ke liye space change karna padega?”
Aashvi:
“Main toh hostel ke form bhar rahi hoon aaj se!”
Bela
(chuckles darkly)
“Bhar lena. Main guest lecture lene wahan bhi chali aaungi.”
Then, her eyes turn steely cold.
Bela
“Ab ghar pe baaki baat hogi is harkat ki. And you will not be spared”
Aashvi opens her mouth to protest but Bela silences her with a single glare.
Aashvi (mumbling to herself):
“Ab toh ho gaya kalyaan… Mumma ka teacher version bhi mil gaya…yahi dekhna Baaki reh gaya tha.. You are dead aashi! ”
Bela walks up to the teacher’s desk and gently leans in to whisper something to the class teacher. The teacher immediately steps aside, respectfully offering Bela her place.
From the last bench, Kikvi and Vanya spot her fully now — their jaws drop.
Kikvi (whispering to Vanya):
“Yeh Mumma… yahan kya kar rahi hai?!”
Vanya (panic-struck):
“Lagta hai Miss ne call kiya hoga complain karne… Ab toh gaye…”
Suddenly, Bela turns her eyes toward them.
The Look.
That classic “ Mumma is watching” stare.
Kikvi and Vanya freeze.
Kikvi (gulping, whispering):
“Unhone sun liya kya…?”
Vanya (whispering quickly):
“Mujhe toh aankhon se lag raha hai sunne ki zarurat bhi nahi thi…”
All three sisters — Aashvi standing by the door, and the other two on the bench — go absolutely silent as Bela turns to face the class.
Her expression instantly shifts — from deadly glare to the sweetest smile ever.
Bela (warmly, to the class):
“Hello, everyone. Good morning.”
Class (in chorus, hesitant):
“Good morning, Ma’am…”
Bela (cheerfully):
“Aaj se main bhi is school ka part hoon. I’ll be visiting often… not just as a parent, but now… as one of your teachers.”
The entire class buzzes with whispers and excitement.
But three girls — Aashvi, Kikvi, and Vanya — stand absolutely frozen, like they’ve just seen a ghost with a register in hand.
Aashvi (stammering, stunned):
“Teacher?! Mumma… yeh sach mein… ya mai ki sapna dekh rahi hoon”
Kikvi (whispering):
“Humare school mein… woh bhi teacher ban ke…”
Vanya (horrified):
“Matlab… ab har subject ke baad surprise test toh fix hai…”
Bela now shifts her gaze to the trio and flashes them a smile so sweet and graceful, it could melt chocolate.
But to the girls?
It sends chills down their spines.
Bela (with a voice dipped in honey):
“Some of my favourite students are in this very class…”
Her eyes don’t move — still on the trio.
Bela (softly):
“Aur unka homework… attendance… and masti level… sab ka special observation hoga.”
Aashvi sneaks to the near window where Kikvi and Vanya were seated(barely breathing):
“Vanu… Kiku… yeh sweet smile ke peeche toh scale chhupa hai, main bata rahi hoon…”
Kikvi (whispering):
“Yeh ‘Mumma Ma’am’ version toh original se zyada dangerous hai…”
Vanya (murmuring):
“Main ab se toilet break bhi permission se lungi…”
Bela claps her hands lightly to grab attention.
Bela (gently):
“Alright, let’s begin with a small activity. I want to know each one of you. And yes… no more whispering. Especially from Team Aashvi.”
The rest of the class chuckles.
The trio?
Absolutely silent. Rigid. Dying inside.
The whole class laughs.
But Team Aashvi? They stand there, breathing carefully, like three kittens trapped under a tiger’s paw.
---
CLASSROOM – LUNCH BREAK – A LITTLE LATER
The bell rings for lunch. The students burst into chatter and begin unzipping their tiffins. But on the last bench, three girls are not eating. They’re staring at their tiffin boxes like they’re landmines.
Aashvi (whispering):
“Yeh koi nightmare toh nahi na? Please bol na… yeh sab ek prank tha…”
Kikvi (sighs dramatically):
“Prank toh hum karte hain… yeh toh life ka plot twist tha.”
Vanya (nibbling one tiny roti corner):
“Main toh ab se chup hi rahungi… ek shabd bhi nahi bolungi class mein.”
Aashvi:
“Chup rehne se kya hoga? Unka radar toh ON hai 24/7.”
Kikvi:
“Ab toh homework late hua toh ghar pe bhi suno, school mein bhi.”
Vanya:
“Aur agar class mein punishment mili… toh double dose ghar jaake.”
Aashvi (groaning):
“Hamari zindagi zero percent attendance aur hundred percent observation ban gayi hai…”
They all groan together and slump their heads onto the bench.
Suddenly, a classmate taps Aashvi’s shoulder.
Classmate (innocently):
“Aashvi, tu lucky hai! Teri Mumma ab teacher hai… tu toh full safe zone mein hai!”
Aashvi (lifting her face slowly, voice deadpan):
“Safe? Bhai tu meri jagah aake ek din reh le. Fir puchhna ‘safe’ ka matlab…”
The classmate walks away, confused.
---
CLASSROOM — MOMENTS LATER
Bela peeks into the class again, checking if everything’s in order.
She catches a glimpse of the trio whispering again.
Bela (calling sweetly):
“Aashi beta, kya baat hai? Itna discussion lunch ke saath?”
Aashvi (jumping up):
“Nahi nahi Mum— I mean Ma’am! Kuch nahi. Bas… salad ki recipe pooch rahe the.”
Bela (smirking):
“Acha? Mujhe bhi sikha dena phir jab ghar aao. Salad wala discussion sunne ka mann ho raha hai mujhe…”
Kikvi (under breath):
“Ab toh ghar jaane mai bhi dar lag raha hai…”
---
SCHOOL PLAYGROUND — POST LUNCH
The trio sit on a bench under a tree, their tiffin boxes still mostly untouched.
Vanya:
“Plan banana padega. Survival plan.”
Aashvi:o
“Main bol rahi hoon — ab se har line sirf ek word mein bolenge. Toh less chance of getting caught.”
Kikvi:
“Ya phir… har subject ke pehle prayer karenge: ‘Hey God,Mumma ko duty pe bula lo please. "
They giggle — nervous giggles, mixed with fear and friendship.
PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE — AFTERNOON
Bela sits opposite Principal Sharma, hands folded in her lap. There’s a hint of nervousness in her usually confident posture.
Principal Sharma (smiling warmly):
“Mrs. Sehgal, I must say — I’m very glad you agreed. I really think your experience and discipline will help our students grow. And with your daughters studying here, you’ll know exactly what they need.”
Bela gives a small, polite nod.
Bela (calmly):
“Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.”
Principal Sharma (checking timetable):
“Wonderful. Actually, Mrs. Sehgal — if you’re comfortable, why don’t you begin today itself?”
Bela’s eyes widen slightly.
Bela:
“Today? Sir, aaj—?”
Principal Sharma (chuckling):
“Don’t worry, it’s just a warm-up. Post-lunch period in Class 1B is free today. It’s a maths slot, so it’s perfect. Go in, meet the kids properly, see how it feels.”
Bela processes this for a moment — the confident SHO inside her is steady, but the new “Mumma Ma’am” is a bit nervous.
Bela (composing herself, then smiles):
“Alright, sir. I’ll start today.”
Principal Sharma:
“Good. All the best, Mrs. Sehgal.”
---
SCHOOL CORRIDOR — OUTSIDE CLASS 1B
Bela stands near the door of Class 1B, holding the new register and her notes.
Through the small glass window she sees the kids chattering, some dozing off, and — her eyes narrow — her three daughters plotting something in a corner.
Bela takes a slow breath. For a moment, her eyes flicker with doubt — a rare moment of uncertainty for the otherwise iron-willed SHO.
She adjusts her dupatta, closes her eyes, murmurs to herself:
Bela (whispering):
“You’ve done tougher things, Bela Sehgal. Agar aaj nahi, toh kab? Yeh teeno toh waise bhi kabhi nahi sudhrenge… maybe this can change something.”
She breathes out, straightens her shoulders, and lets her lips curl into that dangerously sweet teacher smile.
With a small knock on the d oor — she pushes it open and steps inside.
The class is a typical post-lunch mess — half the kids are still talking, a few poking each other with pencil tips, a couple munching hidden wafers under the desk.
Aashvi, Kikvi, and Vanya are squeezed into one bench, half-whispering about their “survival plan.”
Then — the click of the door opening.
Slowly, the chatter dies down. A few heads turn. One kid’s eyes widen comically.
Classmate (whispers to another):
“Arre… woh toh Aashvi ki Mumma hai na?”
Aashvi looks up first — freezes mid-giggle. Her pencil drops from her fingers.
Vanya’s jaw literally hangs open.
But it’s Kikvi who looks like her soul just ran away — her shoulders hunch in panic, tiny palms pressed on her half-finished notebook.
Kikvi (in a terrified whisper to Aashvi):
“Yeh… yeh humara nightmare hi hai na? Ma’am… Maths… oh no… Mumma…”
Bela stands at the front, calm, with that polite teacher smile — the kind that’s more dangerous than yelling. She places her register on the table with a soft thud.
Bela (sweet, to the class):
“Good afternoon, children.”
The entire class (murmuring, nervous):
“Good afternoon, Ma’am…”
Her eyes flick, landing on her three daughters — Aashvi tries to grin sheepishly, Vanya gives a tiny wave, but Kikvi just gulps so hard it’s audible.
Bela’s polite teacher smile lingers — but her eyes say just wait till we get home.
Bela (addressing all, sweet but sharp):
“From today, I will be taking your maths period. I hope we all enjoy it… together.”
Her eyes pause on Kikvi — who shrinks so far into her seat she might merge with her notebook.
She sets her bag on the teacher's desk and looks up with a small smile.
Bela:
“Alright, class. Let’s officially begin.”
The students sit up straighter — some excited, some nervous, and three girls looking like they're sitting in the principal’s office.
Bela scans the register and then looks up.
Bela (gently):
“Let’s start with something easy. Introductions. One by one, tell me your name and your favourite subject.”
The students begin introducing themselves. The moment is light, pleasant.
Student 1:
“Hi Ma’am! I’m Riyan. I like EVS.”
Student 2:
“My name’s Nidhi… I love drawing!”
Student 3:
“Ma’am, I’m Aarav. I like maths!”
Kikvi (muttering to herself):
“Why, Aarav? Yeh jor se bolna jaroori tha… kuch aur nhi bol sakta tha.. Mai murder kar dungi uska ”
Then comes the moment.
Bela (looking toward the last bench):
“Next?”
Aashvi (grinning):
“Aashvi Sehgal. Favourite subject: Lunch break.”
The class giggles. Bela raises an eyebrow but doesn’t react.
Bela (deadpan):
“Thanks for the honesty, Miss Sehgal. Let’s see if that remains your favourite by the end of today.”
Aashvi (gulping, sits down):
“Noted.”
Bela:
“Next?”
Vanya (tiny voice):
“Vanya Sehgal… I like colouring and English…”
Bela (soft smile):
“Good choice.”
And finally—
Bela (with meaning):
“Next?”
Kikvi (barely audible):
“K-Kikvi… Sehgal… I… like… art…”
Bela (tilting her head):
“Hmm… art. Interesting.”
She walks to the board, writing the subject name in neat chalk:
"Mathematics – Introduction to Addition & Word Problems"
Kikvi’s soul leaves her body.
Kikvi (mumbling under her breath):
“Yeh toh direct attack hai…”
Aashvi (whispering):
“RIP Kiku. Tera maths… Mumma ke radar mein…”
Vanya:
“Tera drawing bhi nahi bachaayega ab…”
---
Bela turns back to the class, still smiling.
Bela:
“Let’s start with something fun. Maths isn't scary — it's just another puzzle. And you know how I love solving puzzles, right?”
The class nods. Kikvi looks like she might faint.
Bela walks closer to their bench, placing a soft hand on Kikvi’s shoulder.
Bela (sweetly, almost a whisper):
“And you, Miss Artist… you and I have some catching up to do, hmm?”
Kikvi nods with a tight smile… already calculating how fast she can disappear into thin air.
Bela stands at the blackboard, chalk in hand — her calm smile making every child sit up extra straight.
Bela (cheerful, yet sharp):
“Okay, so… Maths is not boring. Not if we play with it. So today — everyone will solve one sum on the board. Easy sums, don’t worry.”
A collective nervous giggle spreads through the class.
She calls the first student — a shy boy tiptoes up, scribbles his answer, Bela nods encouragingly.
Bela:
“Good! See? Easy. Next!”
One by one, kids come up. Some fumble, some get it right — Bela guides them gently, making the class clap after each answer.
Then her eyes land on Aashvi.
Bela (sweetly, with a wicked glint):
“Aashvi beta… board pe aao.”
Aashvi slumps in her seat dramatically.
She turns to Vanya, whispering:
Aashvi (deadpan):
“Pray for my soul.”
Vanya (muttering back):
“Tu bhi mera naam yaad rakhna. Mera number bhi aayega.”
Aashvi takes the chalk, stands at the board, tongue poking her cheek in concentration. She writes the sum quickly — turns around with a fake grin.
Bela (inspects, nods, smirks):
“Correct. Good job, Miss Genius.”
Aashvi heaves a relieved sigh and scurries back.
Bela flips her register.
Bela:
“Vanya… next.”
Vanya squeaks, stands up, gives Aashvi a tragic thumbs-up — and tiptoes to the board. She solves hers too, her small fingers gripping the chalk like it’s a sword.
Bela (kindly):
“Very good, Vanya. See? No need to chatter if you know your work.”
Vanya giggles nervously, runs back to her seat — where Aashvi does a silent victory clap.
Now only one remains.
Near the last bench, Kikvi’s eyes widen in horror.
She tries to shrink behind her bag, then glances around — an idea sparks.
While Bela turns to write the next sum, Kikvi sloooowly slips off the bench, ducks under it, and starts tiptoeing toward the door, knees bent, palms on the floor.
A nearby boy watches her, amazed.
Boy (hushed):
“Kya kar rahi hai?”
Kikvi (hissing, desperate):
“Mission: Escape.”
One… two… three — she dashes for the door, tiny feet pitter-pattering down the corridor at full speed.
Bela turns back from the board, chalk in hand.
Bela (scanning):
“Okay, next… Kikvi? Come here.”
Silence.
She squints at the back bench. No Kikvi. Just an empty seat and a half-open bag.
Bela (raising an eyebrow):
“Kikvi?”
She looks at the row. The kids look everywhere but at her. Except one honest boy in the front who can’t hold it in.
Boy (timidly raises hand):
“Ma’am… Kikvi toh… woh… bhaag gayi…”
Bela blinks — one second of disbelief. Then her jaw clenches — equal parts amused and annoyed.
She hands the chalk to Aashvi.
Bela (low, calm but scary):
“Aashvi — solve this next sum. Main abhi aati hoon…”
And with that, Bela strides out, her sharp steps echoing down the corridor — hunting for the tiny runaway maths criminal.
To be continued..
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