So let's begin!

CLASSROOM — CONTINUOUS

Bela turns to step out — chalk still in hand, eyes sharp, mind already scanning the whole corridor for her runaway little culprit.

But behind her, there’s a tiny shuffle of feet.

Aashvi clenches her fists, gathers every ounce of courage, and calls out in a small but steady voice.

Aashvi (calling out):

“Ma’am…!”

Bela stops — turns halfway, eyebrow raised.

Aashvi (voice trembling but firm):

“Ma’am… aap class mein rahiye. Mai… mai aur Vanya leke aate hain Kikvi ko.”

Vanya, standing beside Aashvi now, quickly nods — backing her sister up.

Vanya (little voice, but brave):

“Haan ma’am… hum leke aate hain. Please…”

Bela’s eyes narrow at both of them — a sharp, silent glare that could melt steel.

The whole class goes pin-drop silent. Aashvi and Vanya hold their breath.

Then Bela’s eyes soften — just a flicker — seeing their pleading faces. She exhales slowly.

Bela (low, controlled):

“Teen minute. Agar teen minute mein wapas nahi aaye… toh tum dono bhi punishment mein hi count hogi. Samjhi?”

Both nod vigorously — relief mixing with fear.

Aashvi & Vanya (in unison, quick):

“Yes Ma’am.”

They share a deep sigh, then rush out together — out the door, down the corridor — mission Bring Back Kikvi activated.

They peek inside the staff room — no sign. Check behind a pillar — empty. Then they notice the faint squeak of a classroom door ajar down the deserted hallway.

Aashvi and Vanya push open a classroom door slowly.

They find her — little Kikvi — sitting alone on the last bench. Eyes squeezed shut, knees hugged to her chest, trying to be invisible.

Aashvi steps closer. Vanya goes to the other side. They place a gentle hand each on her shoulders.

Startled, Kikvi flinches — opens her watery eyes — sees them. The next second, she launches forward, throwing her arms around both of them. Tears spill out, soft sobs escape.

Kikvi (muffled in their hug):

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Aashvi rubs her back, Vanya pats her head.

Aashvi (whispers, firm but kind):

“Kya baat thi Kiku? Kyun bhaag gayi class se? Mumma already gussa h… ab toh ghar jaake pata nhi kya hoga.”

Vanya (nods, scolding softly):

“Tujhe pata hai na… aise nahi bhaagte. Ab Mumma ke gusse se koi nahi bacha sakta tujhe.”

Kikvi pulls back a little, wiping her cheeks.

Kikvi (broken whisper):

“I’m sorry yaar… but main sach mein bohot dar gayi thi. Mumma ka gussa… board pe sum… sab dekh rahe the aise.. Agar galat hota toh… sab haste… isliye main bhaag gayi…”

Aashvi cups her cheeks — makes her look up.

Aashvi (gently):

“Koi nahi hasega. Aur agar hase bhi, toh mai aur Vanu sabki taange tod denge. Samjhi?”

Vanya (serious face, fists up):

“Haan! Sum galat ho ya sahi — hum hai na tere saath.”

Kikvi sniffles — a tiny smile flickers through her tears.

Aashvi (deep breath):

“Chal. Ab wapas. Mumma ke gusse ko face karna hi padega. No escape.”

Kikvi gulps — but nods.

Aashvi and Vanya hold her hands tight. Together, the trio walks out — three little soldiers back to the battlefield.

---

CLASSROOM — A LITTLE LATER

Bela stands near the board, arms folded. The class is silent — waiting for the drama.

Aashvi and Vanya walk in, one on each side of Kikvi, like loyal bodyguards. Kikvi’s head stays low — tiny steps forward — heart hammering.

Bela’s eyes follow her — sharp, controlled, no softness now.

Kikvi stops in front of her, hands trembling behind her back.

For a long second, no one speaks.

Then Bela lifts her chin slightly — gestures at the board.

Bela (voice icy calm):

“Sum. Solve it.”

Kikvi’s throat tightens. She takes the chalk from Bela’s hand — her small fingers trembling. She can feel the weight of her Mumma’s stare — enough to freeze the whole room.

She turns to the board — glances once over her shoulder at Aashvi and Vanya. They both nod. Vanya mouths: You can do it.

Aashvi clenches a tiny fist in silent cheer.

Kikvi faces the sum. Takes a deep breath. Tunes out the whispers behind her — the little snickers — “Galat karegi dekhna…”

She ignores it all.

Her hand moves slowly, carefully. She checks her numbers twice. She finishes. She underlines it.

Kikvi lowers the chalk — still doesn’t dare look up. She stands frozen — heart pounding.

Bela steps forward — eyes flick from the sum to Kikvi.

Silence.

The whole class holds its breath.

Bela (flat, strict tone):

“Okay. You can go now.”

No praise. No comment. Just that.

Kikvi turns away — face burning — but there’s a tiny relief in her chest. She walks back to her bench — Aashvi and Vanya scoot over, giving her a small high-five under the desk.

---

LATER – END OF SCHOOL

The day drags. Kikvi barely lifts her head the rest of the periods. Bela says nothing — her glares alone enough to keep three girls pinned in guilty silence.

Finally, the bell rings — a shrill, sweet mercy.

Bags zip. Shoes shuffle. Whispered chatter begins.

But for Aashvi, Vanya, and Kikvi — they just share a silent look. One deep breath.

They survived Mumma’s glares — for now.

---

SEHGAL HOUSE — LIVING ROOM — EVENING

The house is unusually quiet. Mahir sits on the sofa, arms folded, watching Bela pace furiously in front of him. Vanya sits beside him, clutching a cushion tightly — eyes darting between her doomed sisters.

Aashvi and Kikvi stand near the wall — stiff, nervous — but it’s clear who the storm is about to hit today.

Bela stops pacing, spins to face Mahir — her glare says it all: Your daughters… OUR daughters…

Bela (sharp but controlled, venting):

“Mai na sahi mai tang aa gayi hu dono se. Mai ghar pe rahu ya school mai… inki ulti seedhi harkatein hi khatam nhi hoti h… Ek din… ek din yeh dono bina koi kaand kiye nahi nikal sakti..”

Mahir sighs — his gaze shifts from the girls to Bela — calm but resigned.

Mahir:

“Kya kiya iss baar?”

Bela throws a pointed finger at Aashvi — the eldest mischief magnet.

Bela (to Mahir, with heat):

“Madam ko class se bahar nikal diya gaya. Kis baat pe? Kyunki madam ko class ke beech mein baatein karni thi — woh zyada jaroori hai inke liye… Bas baatein karwa lo… Teacher toh pagal hai jo waha baith ke padha rahi hai… Isliye itni silly mistakes karti hai… Dhyaan degi tab na kuch ghusega dimaag mein… Lekin dhyaan toh sirf baaton mein hota hai… Corridor mein khadi thi madam, class mein toh man lagta nahi hai.”

Aashvi tries to open her mouth — but Mahir lifts an eyebrow — Don’t you dare. She gulps and clamps her lips shut.

Then Bela turns her blazing attention to Kikvi. For a flicker, her voice softens — but only for a heartbeat.

Bela (to Mahir, nearly shouting):

“Aur yeh madam — maths period chhod ke bhaag gayi. I don’t understand aisa kaunsa dar hai jo yeh ladki pagal ho jaati hai… Bas bhaagna hota hai… Board pe sum solve nahi karna tha toh poori class hi chhod ke bhaag gayi… Man toh kar raha hai ek kheech ke lagau!”

She takes a step forward, hand raised — but Mahir reaches out, stopping her just in time, steadying her with a calming hold.

Bela (still raging):

“School ke corridor mein bhatak rahi thi — yeh dono pakad ke wapas laaye hain.”

Kikvi lowers her head, tiny hands fiddling, lip trembling — tears gathering fast.

Mahir locks his eyes on her — disappointment deeper than anger.

Mahir (low, calm):

“Kal hi toh samjhaya tha, Kiku… Maths se bhaagna mana hai.”

Kikvi nods quickly, a tear slipping down.

Bela (scolding, voice bitter):

“Koi faayda nahi hai isko samjhane ka… Bas apne mann ka karna hai isko… Kal hi kaha tha na? Kaha tha ki nahi… Ki give up karna bura hota hai. Lekin nahi — drama karwa lo bas isse… Pyaar se samjha lo, daant ke samjha lo, koi asar hi nahi hai madam pe… Har din ka wahi naatak… Abhi se yeh haal hai… Bhaag rahi hai aise ek choti si cheez se… Aage jaake toh ghar se na bhaag jaaye…”

She cuts herself off mid-line — the words catching in her throat, the sharpness crumbling. Mahir’s hand on her arm says it all — Calm down. Hosh mein aao.. Kya bole ja rahi ho

Kikvi sobs silently now. Aashvi flicks a helpless glance at her sister — but she knows she’s next in line.

Bela understanding the bluntness of her words steadies her breath — her eyes find Aashvi, now stiff as a statue.

Bela (coldly, sharper than a blade):

“Aur tu — Aashi. Padhai se zyada important kya hai class mein? Bol!”

Aashvi stands frozen, head low, lips pressed tight.

No answer.

Bela doesn’t wait — she steps forward, grabs Aashvi’s ear gently but firmly, pivots her to face the wall.

Bela (angry):

“Kaan pakad. Deewar ki taraf muh karke khadi reh. Aur jab tak main naa kahoon, ghoomna mat. Shayad zubaan ko break mil jaaye.”

Aashvi sniffles, ears pinched in her own grip, cheeks burning red with shame as she stares at the wall.

Then Bela’s burning eyes swing back to Kikvi — who freezes, shaking, terrified of what’s next.

Bela (cold, low, no mercy):

“Kiku — tum jao study room mein. Poora maths ka homework nikaalo. Pichle pure week ke sums abhi solve karogi. Saaf, neat, bina galti ke. Galti hui toh phir se. Raat bhar lag jaaye toh bhi koi excuse nahi. Samjhi?”

Kikvi nods frantically — wipes her nose with her sleeve, chokes out a tiny: “Ji Mumma…” and scurries off — shoulders shaking.

Bela turns her cold glare back to Aashvi, still frozen against the wall.

Bela (snaps, no warmth):

“Aur tu? Seedhi reh! Hilegi toh double punishment milega. Wall pe khade rehne se zubaan theek ho jaaye shayad.”

Mahir watches the whole scene — he sighs, walks over, and rests a hand on Bela’s shoulder — grounding her.

Mahir (soft, just for her):

“Bas, ab shaant ho jao. Padh lenge. Seekh jaayenge. Tum ho toh… darna hi padega unko.”

Bela exhales — her eyes still locked on Aashvi’s back — anger there, but behind it, that same fierce, buried love.

LIVING ROOM — LATER

Aashvi still stands near the wall — hands clamped tight on her ears, forehead almost pressed to the paint. Her arms ache but she doesn’t dare move.

Vanya, clutching her stuffed toy, sneaks over — heart tugging for her sister.

Vanya (soft whisper, near Aashvi’s ear):

“Aashi… bas na… main Mumma se baat—”

Before she can finish, Bela’s voice slices through the air.

Bela (sharp, without even turning):

“Vanya! Tum bhi waha jaake baitho. Tumko bhi punishment chahiye kya?”

Vanya freezes — eyes wide — then quickly tiptoes away, plopping beside Mahir on the sofa, hugging her toy for dear life.

---

STUDY CORNER — SAME TIME

Kikvi sits at the table — her maths notebook spread wide open. Her pencil taps nervously on the page. Bela stands behind her chair — arms folded, hawk eyes on every number.

Kikvi solves a sum — tries to hide her trembling.

Bela leans over — checks it — finds a careless mistake.

Bela (flat, cold):

“Galti. Phir se.”

Kikvi erases, tries again — sweat dotting her forehead.

Second try — another slip. Bela doesn’t shout — she just taps the table sharply with her knuckle.

Bela (icier):

“Teen baar likho yeh. Jab tak perfect nahi hota.Jitna maths se bhaagne ki koshish karegi na, utna hi zyada maths tujhe karna padega, Kiku. Bhagne ka chance hi nahi hai — samjhi?”

Kikvi nods miserably, blinking away tears as she writes out another sum.

Kikvi’s shoulders slump — but she picks up the pencil again. The clock ticks on — her tiny fingers write, erase, write again.

---

DINNER TABLE — A LITTLE LATER

Finally, Bela sighs — gives Kikvi’s tense shoulder a slight push.

Bela (flat):

“Break. Dinner.”

They gather at the table — Mahir sits with Vanya next to him. Aashvi sits opposite, ears still red, eyes downcast. Kikvi settles in — shoulders stiff, eyes drooping from the sums.

It’s the quietest dinner ever. No giggles. No mischief. Just clinks of spoons on plates.

Bela eats silently — her eyes drifting from Aashvi to Kikvi now and then, her disappointment clear.

Mahir tries to lighten the mood with small talk — but one glare from Bela and even he goes silent.

---

DINING AREA — AFTER DINNER

Plates cleared. Mahir stands — places a gentle hand on Aashvi’s back.

Mahir (low, kind):

“Chalo. Tumhara kaam khatam. Jaake apna homework finish karo — main check kar lunga.”

Aashvi nods quickly — grabs her bag — practically runs to the study table.

Kikvi stays frozen on her chair — eyes flicking to Bela, who gestures sharply toward the sums again.

Bela (calm but steel):

“Tum yahin baitho. Baaki sums complete karo. Har ek neatly. Bina galti ke.”

Kikvi swallows her sigh — drags her notebook closer again.

Aashvi finishes her pages fast — even double-checks to make sure. She shows her work to Mahir — he nods, satisfied, and pats her head.

Mahir (gently to Aashvi, then Vanya):

“Chalo. Tum dono mere saath. Sona hai”

Vanya skips over — clutches Mahir’s hand, half-asleep already. Aashvi looks back once at Kikvi — sitting alone with her pile of sums and Bela’s hawk eyes — then lowers her head and goes with Mahir and Vanya.

STUDY ROOM — NIGHT DEEPENS

Kikvi rubs her eyes, trying not to yawn. Another sum done — Bela checks it, eyes sharp as ever.

Bela:

“Correct. Agla likho.”

Kikvi tries to glance back — maybe hoping for a little mercy.

Bela (without blinking):

“Koi excuse nahi. Mai bhi dekhti hoon next tiem kaise bhaagti h tu”

Kikvi sniffles, her voice tiny:

“Ji Mumma…”

She bends again, scribbling more numbers, correcting each mistake — learning the hard way that running makes it worse.

The wall clock ticks towards midnight — but Kikvi is still writing.

Bela doesn’t move — she stands there like a mountain, firm but silently making sure her child learns: Responsibility is not optional.

The clock nears midnight. The study lamp glows soft and yellow over a mountain of rough copies. Kikvi’s little head keeps drooping over her sums — each blink feels heavier than the pencil in her tiny hand.

Bela stands behind her chair, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the page as Kikvi rubs her sleepy eyes.

Bela (firmly):

“Eyes open. Ek aur galat hua toh phir se teen baar. Maths se bhaagna mana hai.”

Kikvi tries so hard — her pencil moves, the numbers form right but her eyelids droop shut for a second.

At that moment — the study door opens just enough. Mahir steps in quietly, arms folded, taking in the scene: his daughter hunched over sums, his wife standing like a strict fortress.

He sighs softly, walking closer.

Mahir (low, gentle, for Bela):

“Bela… bas bhi karo. Dekho toh zara… so gayi hai aadhi.”

Kikvi’s pencil rolls off her notebook. She jolts awake, eyes wide in fear, quickly tries to grab it.

Kikvi (mumbling half-asleep):

“Mumma, sorry… main… main…”

Bela sighs — her eyes flicker. She crouches down beside Kikvi’s chair, cups her cheek.

Bela (soft but stern):

“Aankh band karne se.. Ya bhaagne se bach nhi payegi.. Jaa so jaa. ”

Mahir chuckles softly at Bela’s tone — even when she melts, she’s all rules.

He slides a chair closer, sits, and gently lifts Kikvi’s tiny hands — her fingers red from hours of writing.

Mahir (to Kikvi, warm):

“Bas. Aaj ke liye enough. Mumma se aur panga nahi lena hai. Ab Papa ke paas aaja.”

Kikvi drops the pencil, shoulders sagging as if a mountain slipped off. She clutches Mahir’s kurta like a toddler — her eyes half-shut.

Bela tries to look angry still — but she can’t. She reaches out too, massaging Kikvi’s tiny wrists with her thumbs.

Bela (murmuring):

“Next time maths se bhaagegi toh aur bhi zyada karwaungi. Samjhi?”

Kikvi’s head bobs — eyes closed, mumbling sleepy words.

Kikvi (murmuring, drifting off):

“Sorry Mumma… main… nahi…”

She’s already asleep — curled into Mahir’s chest.

Mahir shoots Bela a soft teasing grin.

Mahir (whispers, playful):

“Dekha? Principal bhi tum ho, teacher bhi tum ho… Mumma bhi tum ho. Bas, ab thoda break lena seekho.”

Bela huffs a tired laugh, tapping his shoulder lightly.

Bela (mock glare):

“Jii haan, aap toh bas sabko rescue kariye. Bura toh mujhe hi banna hai na!”

Mahir winks — then nods to the door.

Mahir:

“Chalo. Ab sula dete hai.”

BEDROOM — NIGHT

Moments later, Mahir and Bela gently lay Kikvi down on the bed. She curls up instantly, pulling the blanket up to her nose, still mumbling half-sleepy, half-sorry maths words under her breath.

Kikvi (muffled, eyes closed, voice tiny):

“Sorry Mumma…”

Bela kneels down by her side, brushes back the hair sticking to her forehead, and tucks the blanket securely under her chin.

She watches that small tired face — her once-icy eyes soft now, full of warmth that only a mother can hold.

Her eyes drift to Aashvi — curled up on the other side, her face still showing the faint redness on her ears from standing at the wall so long.

Bela stands and crosses over — sits gently on the bed beside Aashvi. She bends down, places a soft kiss on her cheek. Aashvi stirs, half awake, half pouting — still a little sore, but calm now.

Bela runs her fingers over Aashvi’s ears — so gently — then massages her small hands that had been stiff from holding them up in punishment for so long. She strokes her back in slow circles.

Bela (murmurs, more to herself than to Aashvi):

“Aaj Mumma ne zyada daant diya na… Sorry, mera baccha…”

She leans in, kisses her again, and carefully pulls the blanket up to cover her completely — sealing her in safe warmth again.

Behind her, Mahir watches — a soft, knowing smile playing at his lips. He steps closer and wraps his arms around Bela from behind — pulling her against him in a gentle embrace. He presses a kiss to her temple, his voice low and reassuring.

Mahir (whispers in her ear):

“They’ll be fine. Tum ho na… sab theek hoga.”

Bela exhales — her shoulders relax into him. She looks at their sleeping trio — her fierce, impossible girls — and finally, her iron resolve melts away into that rare, quiet, mother’s smile.

She lets Mahir hold her, their hearts steady — knowing that tomorrow, too, there will be rules, lessons and laughter. But tonight… tonight they are just Mumma and Papa watching over their brave little soldiers.

---

GIRLS’ BEDROOM — EARLY MORNING

Soft morning light spills through the curtains. Kikvi is a tiny bundle under her blanket, buried so deep you can barely see her face.

Bela stands over the bed, dressed and ready for school. She gently shakes Kikvi’s shoulder.

Bela (soft but firm):

“Kiku… uth jaa. School jaana hai. Jaldi.”

No response — only a tiny grumble from under the blanket. Kikvi squeezes her eyes tighter shut.

Bela tries again, a bit louder — pulling the blanket off her head.

Bela:

“Kikvi. I said… utho.”

Kikvi scrunches her face, half-turns away, and pulls the blanket back up, mumbling:

Kikvi (half-asleep):

“Mumma… five minute… bas…”

Bela lets out a half-defeated sigh.

Aashvi and Vanya peek from behind her — dressed in uniforms, shoes untied, bags half-hanging off their shoulders.

Aashvi tiptoes closer to the bed, puts her face right next to Kikvi’s ear and sings dramatically:

Aashvi (whispers loudly):

“Good morning referee… school ki bus chhoot jaayegi!”

Vanya giggles, climbs on the other side and plants a tiny kiss on Kikvi’s cheek.

Vanya (coaxing):

“Kiku… uth ja na… please. Main tera favourite chocolate dungi…”

But Kikvi only pulls the blanket tighter and mumbles something completely incoherent.

Kikvi (muffled, sleepy):

“Nahi…sona h..maths nahi… five minute… bas…”

Bela crosses her arms, trying not to smile.

A LITTLE LATER

Mahir enters, half ready in his casuals, wiping his wet hair with a towel.

He looks at Bela, then at the sleepy lump on the bed.

Mahir (teasing):

“Kya hua? Kiku madam ka school bunk karne plan chal raha hai?”

Bela lifts her eyebrows, half-annoyed but half-soft too.

Bela:

“Kal raat itna likhwaya maine is liye neend nahi puri hui iski.”

Mahir sits at the edge of the bed, ruffles Kikvi’s hair through the blanket.

Mahir (deciding):

“Theek hai. Tum dono jao. Main hoon ghar pe. Aaj Kiku rest karegi. Maths se bhaag nahi rahi — bas recharge ho rahi hai.”

Bela rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue. She adjusts Kikvi’s blanket properly, brushing her forehead gently.

Bela (softly, to the blanket):

“Abhi bach gayi. Kal se phir se karwaungi.”

Aashvi and Vanya sigh dramatically — half-jealous, half-relieved.

Aashvi:

“Lucky hai… main bhi so lu?”

Bela glares. Aashvi zips her mouth shut.

LIVING ROOM — A FEW MINUTES LATER

Aashvi and Vanya rush around grabbing lunch boxes, shoes, bags.

Mahir stands at the door, waving them off, still holding his phone.

Bela picks up her bag, shoots him a playful glare.

Bela (smirking):

“Dhyaan rakhiyega. Maths ka homework kara dijiyega, ‘Papa version’.”

Mahir raises a hand in surrender.

Mahir (grinning):

“Madam ko ghar pe bhi principal banne se kaun rok sakta hai?”

Bela chuckles, kisses Kikvi’s forehead once more, and leaves with the other two girls — their chatter echoing down the hallway.

Inside, Mahir peeks back into the room — Kikvi is finally snoring softly, the house peaceful for a moment.

---

SCHOOL GATE — MORNING

The school gate bustles with students in neat uniforms and chattering parents waving goodbye.

Bela walks in through the main gate, her bag slung gracefully over her shoulder. On either side, Aashvi and Vanya cling to her hands — unusually obedient this morning.

A few parents standing near the gate notice Bela. Some nod respectfully, others whisper, recognizing her not just as an SHO but now as a teacher here.

Aashvi sneaks a proud glance up at Bela.

Aashvi (to Vanya, whispering):

“Dekha? Sabko pata hai na… Mumma teacher ban gayi.”

Vanya nods, chest puffed slightly, clutching her bag straps tight.

SCHOOL CORRIDOR —

Bela walks past the staff room. A few junior teachers greet her with polite smiles and a slight nod of respect.

Teacher 1 (smiling):

“Good morning, Ma’am. Welcome again.”

Bela (warmly):

“Good morning.”

Aashvi and Vanya exchange a look — their naughty minds clearly plotting how far they can push their “teacher Mumma” fame.

SCHOOL ASSEMBLY GROUND — MOMENTS LATER

Hundreds of students gather in neat lines, the morning sun bright on the courtyard.

Bela stands on the side stage area with a few senior teachers. Aashvi and Vanya stand in their class rows, sneaking glances at her again and again.

The Principal steps forward to the mic.

Principal (addressing everyone):

“Good morning students! Today we have a new addition to our teaching family. I’m sure many of you already know her — SHO Bela Sehgal. From today, she’s also your mentor and Maths teacher.”

There’s a soft murmur in the lines — students whisper to each other with big eyes.

Aashvi grins proudly at Vanya — who beams back.

ON STAGE

The Principal turns slightly to Bela.

Principal (smiling):

“Ma’am, if you’d like, please share today’s Thought of the Day with our students.”

Bela hides a tiny nervous breath, then steps up to the mic with a calm, steady poise.

She scans the sea of students — her eyes landing briefly on Aashvi and Vanya. Both stand straighter immediately, suddenly model students.

Bela clears her throat and begins:

Bela (strong, clear voice):

“Good morning everyone.

Today’s Thought of the Day is simple — ‘Discipline is the bridge between goals and achievement.’

No dream is too big if you stay honest, focused, and brave enough to never run away from your responsibilities.”

Her eyes flicker knowingly toward Aashvi — who gulps — and then to an imaginary invisible Kikvi.

A soft round of claps follows. The Principal nods appreciatively.

AFTER ASSEMBLY

As the lines break and students begin filing toward their classrooms, Aashvi elbows Vanya proudly.

Aashvi (beaming):

“Mumma toh star ban gayi.”

Vanya (grinning):

“Ha lekin humari lag gayi.”

Both giggle — half scared, half proud.

Meanwhile, Bela exchanges a few quick words with the Principal, then turns and walks off toward her first class — her steps calm but her mind focused.

Today, the teacher in her begins.

GRADE 8 CLASSROOM — MID-MORNING

The door creaks open. A hush falls over a class full of teenagers — half slouched, half whispering, some scrolling on hidden phones.

Bela steps in, her saree draped crisply, a neat stack of books in hand. There’s a flicker of nerves in her eyes — just for a second — before her SHO posture straightens her spine.

A few teenagers exchange skeptical glances — “Let’s see what she does…”

Bela places her books on the table, turns to face the class with a calm authority.

Bela (cool and clear):

“Good morning, everyone.”

A few muttered “Good mornings” come back — sloppy, bored.

She narrows her eyes ever so slightly. Her police instinct flickers through her teacher’s smile.

Bela:

“Louder, please.”

Class (reluctantly, louder):

“Good morning, Ma’am!”

She smiles — not too sweet — just enough to make them sit up straighter.

Bela:

“Better. I’m your new Maths teacher. And before anyone tries to test me… remember, Maths is my subject, but discipline is my habit.”

A few students giggle nervously. A boy at the back tries to hide his phone. Bela catches him in a heartbeat.

She walks up to him — not scolding, just standing there until he sheepishly tucks the phone away.

CLASSROOM WINDOW — SAME TIME

Aashvi and Vanya, sweaty from their games period, creep along the corridor. They spot their mother through the window — in full command mode — handling these big kids like a boss.

Aashvi presses her nose to the glass, whispering dramatically.

Aashvi (awed):

“Dekh na Vanu… kaise dikh rahi hai Mumma — full ‘Mission Impossible’ mode.”

Vanya nods, grinning wide, eyes shining with admiration.

Vanya:

“Yeh log toh phone nikaalte hi dar jaate hain. Hamari toh waat lag gayi ab school mein bhi…”

Aashvi nudges her and giggles — but both keep watching, proud little spies.

Inside the class -

Bela starts scribbling a tricky algebra equation on the board — her voice clear, explanation sharp yet gentle.

She throws a question at the whole class — picks a shy girl in the second row to solve it.

Bela (encouraging):

“Come on, beta. Mistake karogi toh seekhogi. Try.”

The girl stands, stammers, tries — Bela guides her step by step until she nails it. A few students clap softly. Even the backbenchers exchange an impressed look.

Bela turns, catches a glimpse of two tiny faces pressed to the glass. She raises an eyebrow — Aashvi and Vanya duck in a flash.

A tiny smile curls on Bela’s lips. She faces the class again — her confidence rooted deeper than ever.

---

SEHGAL HOUSE — STUDY ROOM — MID MORNING

Mahir sits at his sleek work desk, laptop open, phone buzzing softly beside him. Amid spreadsheets and calls, his eyes drift down.

Curled up like a sleepy kitten, Kikvi lies half in his lap — head resting against his chest, tiny fingers clutching his shirt lightly. Her eyes flutter open just a bit.

Kikvi (mumbling, half-asleep):

“Papa… mujhe aur sona hai…”

Mahir smiles, brushing her hair back gently.

Mahir (softly):

“So jaa… meri tired baby…”

He adjusts her so she’s comfortable, tucks the side of her blanket under her arm. Kikvi hums sleepily, nuzzles closer, and within seconds her breathing turns slow and soft again.

Mahir pauses his typing for a moment. He just looks at her — this small, stubborn, soft child. He leans down and places the lightest kiss on her forehead.

Mahir (whispers to himself, lovingly):

“Sote hue madam kitni shareef lagti h…”

He watches her for another peaceful moment, then smiles, straightens up, and dives back into his files — one hand still resting on Kikvi’s back, guarding her dream.

---

SCHOOL STAFF ROOM — LATE MORNING

Stacks of notebooks sit piled in front of Bela on the large wooden staff table. She flips through each page — red pen flying, neat remarks filling margins.

Around her, a few teachers sip tea, gossip quietly. One junior teacher, Miss Rhea, leans closer with a curious grin.

Miss Rhea (teasing):

“Ma’am, aapke bachche toh hum sabko pata hai. Kaafi naam suna hai unka school mein…”

Bela raises an eyebrow playfully, tapping her pen.

Bela:

“Acha? Naam kis liye suna hai? Padhai ke liye ya prank ke liye?”

The teachers giggle.

Miss Rhea:

“Aashvi aur Vanya toh famous hain… sabko entertain karti hain. Waise… aaj teesri wali nahi dikhi… Kikvi, right? Kahaan hai?”

Bela’s hand pauses for a second on the notebook. She adjusts her tone, calm but protective.

Bela:

“Thoda tired thi ghar par hi rest kar rahi hai.”

The staff laugh lightly, some nod in understanding. Another teacher flips a page and sighs.

Teacher 2:

“Waise Ma’am,aap SHO bhi thi aur ab yahan bhi! Kitna manage karti hain!”

Bela smiles faintly, eyes flicking to the window as if her mind drifts for a second — a quick flash of Kikvi snuggling on Mahir’s lap fills her thoughts.

She adjusts her saree, lifts her pen again, and with a calm authority:

Bela:

“Not a big deal, Ma’am. Jab bachche strong ho jaayein na… toh sab easy lagta hai.”

She flips to the next notebook, ready for whatever the day — and her trio — bring next.

---

CLASS 1B — POST LUNCH PERIOD

The classroom hums with lazy post-lunch chatter. Aashvi and Vanya lean over their notebooks, giggling at their own doodles, whispering secrets only they understand.

Aashvi flicks an eraser crumb at Vanya’s nose, both giggle again.

Their talk drifts — as it always does — to Kiku.

Aashvi (snickering):

“Pata hai na, abhi Kiku ghar pe papa ke saath maze kar rahi hogi? Pakka so rahi hogi abhi bhi — ghum phir ke homework nahi, no daant, kuch nahi…”

Vanya pouts, poking Aashvi’s arm with her pencil.

Vanya (mock envy):

“Hmmph… aur hum yahan baithe sums kar rahe hain. Lucky Kiku…”

But Aashvi's giggle freezes halfway her eyes flick suddenly to the front row — Ayush and Rahul giggling together, whispering, passing folded chits. They laugh and mimic someone — sticking out their tongue, making a silly gesture. “Kikvi — darpok — chashmish!”

Aashvi’s blood boils instantly. Her little fists clench on the bench.

Aashvi (hissing to Vanya):

“Dekh… dekh un dono ko! Woh hi hain na jinhone Kiku ko moti bol ke tease kiya tha? Aur uske marks pe bhi?”

Vanya stops doodling. Her eyes dart to Ayush and Rahul. She gulps — nervous.

Vanya (whispers):

“Hmm… lekin Aashi… Mumma school mein hai! Agar pata chal gaya na… toh humari bhi Kiku jaise waat lag jaayegi.”

Aashvi turns to her, fire in her eyes — whispering fiercely.

Aashvi:

“Aur agar abhi humne kuch nahi kiya na… toh Kiku roz pareshaan hogi. Mumma har jagah toh nahi dekh sakti na? Hum Team Aashvi hain ya nahi?”

Vanya bites her lip. She looks at Ayush and Rahul again — their annoying giggles, their mockery of Kiku’s shy stammer.

Her tiny fists clench too now.

Vanya (low but firm):

“Hum Team Aashvi hain.”

Aashvi smirks, mischief and protectiveness mixing perfectly.

Aashvi (determined, whispering):

“Bas. Aaj un dono ko pata chalega… Kiku se panga lene ka kya matlab hota hai. Direct TEAM AASHVI ko challenge kiya h.. Iska badla toh chukana padega. ”

Vanya leans closer, their heads bumping a bit.

Vanya (now whispering back, conspiratorial):

“Plan kya hai, Captain?”

Aashvi’s eyes gleam dangerously as she watches Ayush and Rahul — her brain already hatching a prank Kiku would have giggled at too.

Aashvi and Vanya huddle close, half hiding behind their open notebooks. Aashvi leans in, her eyes glinting with her ‘master plan’.

Aashvi (whispering, excited):

“Sun Vanu… jab Ayush aur Rahul class se bahar jayenge na… main un dono ki chairs ke niche chewing gum chipka doongi. Chipka doongi nahi — acchi tarah press karke chipka doongi!”

Vanya’s eyes widen — half shocked, half thrilled.

Vanya (covering her mouth, giggling):

“Chewing gum?! Phir jab woh baithenge toh…?”

Aashvi smirks, does a tiny proud nod.

Aashvi:

“Tab unke shorts chipak jayenge! Uth nahi payenge bina awaaz kiye!”

Vanya bursts into a muffled giggle, her shoulders shaking.

Vanya (hushed laugh):

“Aashvi… tu toh badmaash queen hai! Mumma ko pata chala toh…?”

Aashvi rolls her eyes dramatically, gives her a playful nudge.

Aashvi (teasing):

“Mumma ko pata hi nahi chalega… agar Team Aashvi secret rakhe toh!”

They look at each other — eyes locked, sharing the same spark — and slap their palms together in a victorious hi-fi.

Vanya (grinning, whispering):

“Done! Operation Chewing Gum!”

They peep ahead — perfect timing — Ayush and Rahul are asking the teacher permission to fetch a notebook from the library.

Aashvi’s eyes flicker with determination. She pulls open her pencil box, digs out the hidden, half-used gum she’d been secretly saving.

Aashvi (muttering):

“Bas… ab tum dono Kiku ko tease karne ke paise bharoge!”

The moment Ayush and Rahul step out, the girls exchange one last gleeful nod — ready to strike for their sister’s honour.

---

SEHGAL HOUSE — KITCHEN — LATE MORNING

Kikvi finally stirs awake, rubbing her eyes like a sleepy kitten. She shuffles into the kitchen in her soft night dress, hair all fluffy from sleep.

At the stove, Mahir stands with his sleeves rolled up, stirring a pan. He senses her and turns — his face instantly lighting up.

Mahir (playfully):

“Oho! Meri gudiya uth gayi? Aao, Chef Sahiba, aaj breakfast banwayenge tumse.”

Kikvi giggles, still half-asleep, and hugs him around his waist from behind.

Kikvi (mumbling into his back):

“Mujhe bohot bhookh lagi hai, Papa…”

Mahir (dramatic mock strictness):

“Toh madam sirf khana khayengi ya banengi meri assistant chef?”

Kikvi lifts her head, giving him her most adorable puppy face.

Kikvi (pleading):

“Papa mujhe cheese sandwich khana hai, pleaseee…”

Mahir lifts an eyebrow, pretending to scold.

Mahir (mock stern):

“No Kiku… Mumma gussa karengi. Cheese sandwich unhealthy hota hai.”

Kikvi gasps, then clings tighter — eyes wide, voice extra sweet.

Kikvi:

“Papa, please! Aap world ke best papa ho na… sabse acche papa ho na.. meri wish puri kar do na…”

Mahir tries to keep a straight face, but her puppy face breaks him. He sighs, melts, and kisses her forehead.

Mahir (defeated smile):

“Bas, bas — theek hai, meri maharani. Par Mumma ko pata chala na.. Dono ko punishment milegi!”

She squeals in delight, hopping in place. Mahir lifts her and sets her on the counter.

He hands her a tiny spoon and a bowl.

Mahir:

“Yeh cheeni daalo, phir achhe se stir karo — Chef Kikvi ki secret recipe!”

Kikvi sprinkles the sugar carefully, her tongue peeking out in concentration. She stirs with both tiny hands while Mahir pretends to give her a big round of applause.

DINING TABLE — LATER

Mahir and Kikvi sit side by side at the table — Kikvi chomping on her cheesy sandwich, a glass of chocolate shake beside her.

Kikvi (mouth full, happy):

“Papa, yeh best breakfast hai! Mumma ko mat batana… please?”

Mahir laughs, tapping her nose with his finger.

Mahir (teasing):

“Mumma ko sab pata chalega! Mumma se hum kuch bhi chupa nahi sakte.”

Kikvi sticks her tongue out dramatically and both burst into giggles.

LIVING ROOM — MIDDAY

After breakfast, Mahir spreads Kikvi’s maths notebook on the coffee table. He sits cross-legged on the floor. Kikvi plops beside him, hugging her soft toy.

Mahir (pointing at sums):

“Chalo Madam Kikvi, ab batao — five twos are?”

Kikvi (thinking, counting fingers):

“Five twos are… ten!”

Mahir (claps dramatically):

“Wah! Professor Kikvi! Next — seven fours?”

Kikvi scrunches her nose, counts again, then blurts out: “Twenty-eight!”

Mahir gasps, pretending to faint back on the sofa.

Mahir (dramatic):

“Arre wah! Aaj toh meri Kiku sabse badi professor ban gayi!”

Kikvi giggles, burying her face in his shoulder.

After some time -

Sunlight streams through the backyard trees. Kikvi stands ready with her tiny racket, feet bouncing in excitement. Mahir stands opposite her, acting equally serious.

Kikvi (shouts):

“Ready Papa? Main aaj aapko harane wali hoon!”

Mahir (mock fear, raising hands):

“Arre baba! Itni dangerous challenger!”

Kikvi swings — the serve wobbles but Mahir plays along, dramatically missing the shot.

Mahir (pretending to fall back):

“Out! Kikvi wins! Kikvi champion!”

Kikvi squeals in triumph, lifts her racket high like a trophy.

Kikvi (catching her breath, softer):

“Papa… Aashi aur Vanu bhi hote na… kitna maza aata. I’m missing them.”

Mahir kneels, cups her cheek gently.

Mahir (soothing):

“Don’t worry meri gudiya… wo bhi jaldi aa jayenge. Tab tak hum thodi padhai aur kar lete hain?”

Kikvi pouts dramatically.

Kikvi:

“Ok… par maths nahi! Kiku ko story book sunni hai!”

Mahir laughs, lifts her up in his arms.

Mahir:

“Done! Professor Kikvi ki demand poori.”

Inside, Mahir lies with Kikvi curled against him, the storybook open in his hand. His voice weaves a sweet bedtime story as Kikvi’s eyes flutter closed.

She drifts off mid-page, snuggled warm and safe — her little hand still gripping his shirt.

Mahir smiles down, kissing her hair.

Mahir (whispers to the sleeping Kikvi):

“Meri brave bacchi…”

He switches off the lamp, tucks the blanket closer around her — the quiet house filled only with the hush of her soft breathing.

CLASS 1B — LATER

Ayush and Rahul’s seats sit empty. Aashvi and Vanya glance at each other, then at the door, then back at the rest of the class — everyone lost in their own chatter. Perfect.

Aashvi pops open her pencil box like a tiny mastermind. She pulls out the squishy, half-dry wad of chewed gum — sticks out her tongue in disgust, but rolls it back into her palm.

Vanya keeps guard near the door, eyes darting, her hand half-covering a giggle.

Aashvi (sharp whisper, focused):

“Cover de na, Vanu. Koi aaye toh ‘Achhoo!’ bol dena.”

Vanya bites her lip to stop her laugh and nods — tiny thumbs up.

Aashvi tiptoes to Ayush’s chair first — lifts it slightly, presses the gum flat under the seat with her thumb. Next, Rahul’s chair gets the same treatment. Her eyes gleam with mischief.

Job done — she wipes her fingers with her handkerchief and shoots Vanya a victorious grin.

Aashvi (proud whisper):

“Mission successful.”

Vanya squeaks out a tiny “Achhoo!” as she nearly bursts laughing. They scramble back to their seats — eyes twinkling.

---

A FEW MINUTES LATER

Ayush and Rahul swagger back in, whispering and snickering. They plop down —

SQUISH.

They freeze. A second later —

Ayush (squirming):

“Arre… kya chipak raha hai?!”

Rahul (trying to stand, failing):

“Arey yeh kya hai! Chair se chipak gaya main!”

The sticky squeal makes the class erupt — giggles, pointing fingers, half-hidden snorts.

Aashvi and Vanya look ahead, innocent halos firmly in place — but their shoulders shake with silent laughter.

Ayush (red-faced, livid):

“Kisne kiya yeh?! Kiski himmat hui?!”

He whips around — eyes lock on Aashvi and Vanya immediately.

Rahul (spitting, furious):

“Yeh dono! Inhone hi kiya hoga! Kiku ki chamchi hain na!”

Aashvi’s smile drops. Rahul’s ‘Kiku’ burns like poison in the air.

Ayush (mocking, sneering):

“Haan! Kiku ki behene! Us moti specs waali ke bodyguards! Ek sum toh hota nahi usse sahi se darpok kahi ki… Poori family hi—”

Vanya’s little palm SLAMS the bench. Silence. She’s shaking.

Vanya (voice trembling but loud):

“Meri Kiku ke baare mein ek aur shabd bola na… toh muh tod dungi tum dono ka!”

Rahul lets out a mean laugh — Ayush hisses back.

Ayush:

“Arre tu karegi kya? Chipkali jaisi—”

Aashvi (explodes):

“BOHOT BOL LIYA! AB NHI BACHEGA!”

She lunges — grabs Ayush’s collar, yanks him forward. Vanya launches at Rahul — fists, hair, chaos. Tables screech. Bags fall. Pencils scatter.

Ayush tries to shove Aashvi — she slaps his arm away and kicks his shin. Vanya jumps on Rahul’s back, fists full of hair.

Ayush (half screaming):

“Arrey ma’am! Bachao—!”

Aashvi (beating) :

"Teri himmat kaise hui kiku ko pareshaan karne ki Haa.. Bohot galat panga liya h tune.. Aaj maar maar tujhe hospital pohocha dungi ruk tu."

---

SCHOOL CORRIDOR — SAME TIME

A teacher passing by stops short — hearing the ruckus. She peers in, sees Aashvi and Vanya mid-brawl — her eyes widen in horror.

Teacher (hissing to herself):

“Yeh kya ho raha hai! Bela ma’am ko batana hi padega — turant!”

---

STAFF ROOM — MOMENTS LATER

Bela stands mid-discussion with a teacher — the teacher rushes in, out of breath.

Teacher (gasping whisper):

“Ma’am! Aapke bacche… Aashvi aur Vanya… class mein lad rahe hain! Maar peet ho rahi hai!”

Bela’s face goes blank — then cold, her eyes sharp as knives. Without a word, she storms out — her saree trailing behind like a warning.

---

CLASS 1B — CONTINUOUS

Inside, the fight’s at its worst — Aashvi’s got Ayush’s collar twisted, Vanya’s got Rahul’s hair half-yanked sideways. Kids scatter, gasping.

And then — silence.

Bela stands at the door. Eyes blazing. Voice ice cold.

Bela (calm, deadly):

“Aashvi… Vanya… Bas.”

Both sisters freeze — panting, cheeks flushed, hair messed up.

Ayush and Rahul cower, fixing collars, wiping embarrassed tears.

Bela steps inside, slow and silent — her stare alone enough to silence the whole class.

Aashvi and Vanya don’t even breathe — knowing what’s coming next.

The air crackles with tension. Bela’s eyes scan Aashvi’s tight fists, Vanya’s tangled hair, Ayush and Rahul’s teary faces — the gum still sticking them awkwardly to their chairs. She says nothing at first — which is worse than shouting.

She steps forward — her heels click on the tiles like a countdown. Aashvi and Vanya stiffen, unable to look up.

Bela folds her arms.

Bela (low, calm, terrifyingly quiet):

“Aashvi. Vanya. Bahar niklo.”

Aashvi gulps — Vanya clutches the end of her braid — both slip past Ayush and Rahul, heads bowed. The class parts for them like they’re radioactive.

Bela throws one last dagger glare at Ayush and Rahul.

Bela (to Ayush & Rahul, cold, clipped):

“Tum dono Principal ke office mai jao. Abhi.”

Ayush tries to protest, but one look from Bela and he thinks better of it. They peel themselves off the gum, wincing and wiping their uniforms. Embarrassed, they shuffle out.

---

SCHOOL CORRIDOR —

Bela marches ahead. Aashvi and Vanya scurry behind her — like tiny criminals following a judge. Vanya tries to catch Aashvi’s eye — but Aashvi stares at her shoes, jaw tight.

They reach an empty corner. Bela stops so suddenly that Vanya bumps into Aashvi’s shoulder.

Silence. Bela turns. Arms still folded. Her eyes flick between both — her voice barely above a whisper.

Bela (calm but lethal):

“Batana pasand karogi kaise itni himmat hui school mein haath chalane ki? Kyun maara? Kisne seekhaya?”

Neither girl speaks. Aashvi’s throat bobs. Vanya tries to sniff back tears.

Bela closes her eyes — breathes in deep to keep her temper chained.

Bela (cold, clipped):

“Main tum dono ko padhne ke liye, discipline seekhne ke liye school bhejti hoon ya aise hi ladne ke liye?”

Aashvi blurts, voice trembling but fierce.

Aashvi:

“Unhone Kiku ko pareshaan kiya tha, Mumma! Uske chashme ko… marks ko… woh… woh darpok bol rahe the! Abhi bhi… Rahul—”

Her voice cracks. Vanya nods rapidly, tears spilling.

Vanya (pleading):

“Mumma woh Kiku ko roz bolte hain… ‘motu specs waali’… humne bola tha bas karo… nahi maane…”

Bela watches them both. Her expression shifts — anger flickering with something else: worry, protectiveness, exhaustion.

She rubs her temple. Her voice drops softer, but firm.

Bela (measured, sharp):

“Toh ladai karoge? Baalon se kheechoge? Tum dono gunde ho? Ladayi se koi baat sudhar jaati hai? Agar baat itni aage badh gayi thi toh aake mujhe bolna chahiye tha na”

Aashvi tries to speak — Bela lifts a palm. Silence again.

Bela (stern, final):

“Don’t. Ek shabd aur nahi. Abhi Principal sir ko face karo. Uske baad ghar jaake tum dono se alag se baat karungi.”

She steps back, turns — her voice low but unmistakably final.

Bela:

“Chalo.”

Aashvi sniffles, wiping her nose with her sleeve. Vanya grabs her sister’s hand tight — together, they follow Bela down the corridor, every step echoing like a warning bell.

---

PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE — LATER

Bela stands beside Aashvi and Vanya — the Principal behind his desk, Ayush and Rahul sulking on the other side.

Principal’s voice drones — about school discipline, violence, respect. Bela stands silent, arms folded — the only time she interrupts is to give Ayush and Rahul a death glare when they try to twist the story.

Aashvi and Vanya stand mute, heads lowered — every word drilling guilt deeper.

Principal Sharma (tired but stern):

“Bela Ma’am… main samajh sakta hoon, yeh bacche chhote hain… kabhi kabhi gussa mai haath uth jaata hai… par yeh school hai, yeh jagah maar-peet ki nahi hai.”

Bela keeps her chin up — arms folded, jaw tight, her eyes flicker protectively toward Aashvi and Vanya. But she knows she can’t interrupt yet.

Ayush tries to speak up, voice dripping fake innocence.

Ayush (mutters):

“Sir… unhone hi—”

Before he can finish, Bela’s eyes snap to him — one glare. He shuts up instantly.

Principal Sharma (sighing):

“Mujhe pata hai kya hua hoga. Main teachers se bhi sun chuka hoon. Ayush, Rahul — tum dono ka naam pehle bhi suna hai. Humesha dusron ko tease karna, mazaak banana… yeh sab yahan nahi chalega.”

Ayush and Rahul shift uneasily, their smirk gone.

Principal Sharma looks at Bela again — his voice softens a notch, but the discipline remains.

Principal Sharma:

“Bela Ma’am, aap teacher h. Par aaj baat aapke bacchon ki hai. I understand it was all their fault but aise ladai karna is against the school rules.”

Bela’s throat tightens — it hurts her pride, but she nods. She places a gentle hand on Aashvi’s shoulder as if telling her this is part of protecting you.

She turns to the Principal — voice calm but edged with regret.

Bela (controlled tone):

“Sir, main Aashvi aur Vanya ki taraf se maafi maangti hoon. Inhone galat kiya — school mai haath nahi chalna chahiye tha. Main ghar pe inse baat karungi. Dobara nahi hoga.”

Aashvi winces — hearing her Mumma say sorry for her burns deeper than any scolding. Vanya sniffles beside her.

Principal Sharma’s expression softens a fraction. He turns his sharp gaze back to Ayush and Rahul.

Principal Sharma (strictly):

“Lekin main Ayush aur Rahul ke parents ko bhi bula raha hoon. Agar unhone Kikvi ko ya kisi ko tease kiya, toh woh bhi galat hai. Tum dono ab ghar jao — kal tumhare parents se baat hogi. Aur agar dobara kisi bacche ko pareshaan kiya toh suspension hoga. Samjhe?”

Ayush and Rahul shrink, nodding quickly.

Principal Sharma leans back, exhausted.

Principal Sharma (firm but fair):

“Baat khatam. Bela Ma’am — thank you for cooperating. I know aap sahi ka saath deti h. Bas, next time… ladayi nahi. Report kariye please, hum handle karenge.”

Bela gives a respectful nod — her hand still resting protectively on Aashvi’s back.

Bela (softly):

“Ji Sir. Shukriya.”

Principal Sharma dismisses them with a wave. Bela gives one last sharp look to Ayush and Rahul — we’ll see how brave you are now — then turns and gently nudges her girls toward the door.

Aashvi’s hand curls into Vanya’s. The scolding will come later — but for now, they know Mumma stood for them too.

---

To be continued..

Do share your reviews though the comments. Thank you! ❤️