So let's begin,
GREENFIELD PUBLIC SCHOOL – CLASS 9-B – MORNING
Khushi, Akshu and Vanshu slip through the door just as the first bell echoes. Their eyes lock on the back row—their bench.
Occupied. Three girls, elbows sprawled, bags dumped, grins far too wide.
Akshu (under her breath, frown tightening)
“Seriously… yeh log? Har baar kisi aur ki seat…”
She steps closer, palms open—trying courtesy first.
Akshu (steady voice)
“Excuse me, yeh hamari seat hai. Please bags shift kar do.”
The tallest of the trio—Sonal—leans back, chewing gum, smirk sharp.
Sonal
“Aww… dekho ‘Team Unstoppable’ ko. Class ki maalkin ho kya? Jo yahan pehle aaya, wahi baithega—rule suna nahi kya?”
The two other girls snicker, one muttering a half-audible “nautanki”.
Akshu (still measured, jaw clenched)
“Dekho… request kiya politely. Roz isi bench pe baithte hain hum. Please shift.”
Second Girl (rolling eyes)
“Arre ja na drama queen… bench pe naam likha hai kya tera? Itna hero banne ki aadat jaa kar Bela ma’am ke saamne ban. Waise bhi kal toh bada hero ban rahe the unke saamme.. Humari best friend Nikita ko suspend karwa diya.. Yeh humara revenge h.. We are not moving.. Jao na jao apni "ma'am” ko jaake complaint karo.. Loser"
The giggle that follows is louder this time, deliberate.
Khushi (nervously, tugging Akshu’s sleeve)
“Akshu, ignore kar de… bell baj gayi h, ma'am aati hi hongi.”
Vanshu (soft)
“Haan yaar… mat pad. Hum kisi aur jagah shift ho jayenge.”
But Akshu’s knuckles whiten on the strap of her bag. Breath shallow. That one word “Loser” buzzing in her ears.
Akshu (voice rising, steel-edged)
“Bas! Zyada smart ban rahi ho tum log. Hato bench se warna—”
Sonal (snapping back)
“Warna kya? Maar legi? Chal maar, dikha na kitni badi sherni hai.”
The tension pops like static—chairs screech as Akshu plants her bag down, half-leaning in. Khushi wedges herself between them, palms out.
Khushi (urgent whisper)
“Akshu, please… leave it. Bela ma'am aa gayi toh fas jayegi! Ma'am ko aane de hum shaanti se unko complaint karenge. Please.. Gussa mujhe bhi aa raha h lekin yeh sahi waqt nhi h panga lene ka.. ”
Vanshu (wide-eyed)
“Akshu stop, tu jaanti hai na Yeh log Jaan bujhke trigger kar rahe h tujhe mat pad inlog ke peeche— hum abhi ke liye kahi aur baith jaate h.. Ma'am aake dekh lengi na.. Chal.”
Too late. Akshu’s retort is already on her tongue—
Akshu
“Aaj nhi.. Har baar ka ho gaya h inlog ka.. Tameez sikhani padti hai kuch logon ko—”
Before the tension could escalate,
A crisp heel-click. The room stills.
BELA MA’AM stands framed in the doorway, attendance register underarm, gaze slicing through the chatter.
Bela (ice-cool, voice even)
“What's going on?Yeh kya tamasha laga rakha h first period mai?”
Pin-drop silence. Akshu stiffens; Sonal gulps, sliding her bag aside instinctively.
Bela (arching brow at the whole row)
“Everyone. Apni original jagah par. Abhi.”
She stops in front of Sonal and Akshu, eyes hard as flint.
Bela (voice low but cutting)
“Fighting. In my class. In front of everyone?”
(shakes her head, a razor-thin smile)
“Shame on both of you.”
Akshu opens her mouth, guilt tightening her throat.
Akshu (soft)
“Ma’am, I—”
Bela (snapping a palm up)
“Enough. Front of the class. Now.”
The two girls move, chairs scraping. The rest of 9-B sits frozen, backs stiff, breaths held.
Bela folds her arms, tone like ice on glass.
Bela
“Hundred sit-ups. Isi jagah. Sab dekh rahe hain.
Maybe tab samajh aayega—fighting se respect ya seat nahi milti.
Punishment se responsibility milti hai.”
A ripple of shock passes through the benches; someone gasps.
Khushi (half-rising, tentative)
“Ma’am… Akshu ki galti nahi thi, please—”
Bela (one warning glance, voice flat)
“Khushi.. Not a word.. Sit.”
Khushi sinks back, cheeks hot.
Akshu clenches her jaw, pride flickering in her eyes. She drops her bag, steps forward, lowers into the first sit-up. Sonal follows, trembling already.
Bela (cold command)
“Ginti karo. Saaf awaaz mein. Saath-saath.”
The two girls obey, voices thin at first.
Akshu & Sonal (murmuring)
“One… two… three…”
Bela (sharper)
“Zor se!”
Akshu & Sonal (louder, in rhythm)
“Four… five… six…”
The classroom is pin-drop silent except for the echo of numbers and the faint squeak of shoes on tile.
Vanshu steals a glance at Khushi, both gnawing their lips, guilt and worry etched on their faces—but neither dares move.
BELA – arms still folded, expression carved from stone. Only her eyes betray a flicker of ache as she watches Akshu’s strained breaths. She forces the softness down, mask firm.
The count rises, each syllable bouncing against the chalk-dusted walls.
Akshu & Sonal
“Twenty… twenty-one… twenty-two…”
The class sits like statues, the tension humming as lesson and punishment merge into a single, unforgettable silence.
The chant of numbers grows louder, filling the still room.
AKSHU & SONAL (strained, in sync)
“…eighty-eight… eighty-nine… ninety…”
Their knees buckle, breaths ragged. Sweat streaks down their temples.
Sonal sways, almost toppling—Akshu catches her elbow, forcing her upright.
Akshu (gritted whisper)
“Don’t stop. Finish it.”
The entire class stares, frozen; no one has ever witnessed a punishment carried this far.
AKSHU & SONAL (gasping, almost shouting)
“Ninety-eight… ninety-nine… one hundred!”
They sink to their knees, heads bowed, lungs dragging for air.
Across the room, Bela’s gaze stays locked on them—cold, still, unreadable. Silence stretches until it aches.
Bela (sharp)
“Good. Ab yaad rakhna — strength ka matlab ladna nahi hota. Akshu you could have waited till I came but no..You thought fighting was much better than patience.. And you Sonal.. Next time sit in your own seat otherwise the punishment will be worse.. Control, respect, aur patience mein asli strength hoti hai. Tum dono ko samajhna hoga — warna kal ke leaders banne ka sapna chhod do.”
Sonal nods frantically, still gasping.
Akshu, drenched in sweat, lifts her chin; pride flickers in her tired eyes.
Akshu (hoarse, steady)
“Ji, ma’am.”
Sonal echoes weakly, “Ji, ma’am.”
Bela studies them a heartbeat longer, expression unreadable, then pivots toward her desk, saree brushing against the chair.
Bela (curt)
“Sit down.”
The room exhales at once, tension leaking out of every corner.
Akshu hauls herself up, legs trembling, each step heavy yet defiant.
Vanshu and Khushi exchange anxious glances, catching the faint, stubborn half-smile Akshu throws them—I’m fine.
Behind her composed mask, Bela’s chest tightens. She knows Akshu’s pride will never show a crack—but unchecked, that same fire could one day burn her whole.
She straightens, chalk in hand, forcing her focus back to the lesson, though her eyes drift more than once to Akshu’s trembling fingers.
END OF PERIOD
The bell rings.
A long breath ripples through the room; whispered voices spark like tiny matches.
Bela closes her register, gaze unreadable, and steps toward the door. Before crossing the threshold she turns back, eyes sweeping the rows like a blade.
Bela (stern)
“Class discipline… hamesha yaad rakhna.”
Every whisper dies. Heads nod in unison.
She pivots and strides out, heels tapping the tiles.
CORRIDOR – OUTSIDE 9TH B
The steady clack of Bela’s heels echoes down the hall.
A soft shuffle trails behind her. She glances back—Akshu stands there, shoulders stiff, cheeks still flushed from exertion.
Slowly, painfully, Akshu moves forward. At the doorway, under the eyes of her classmates, she bends—palms gripping her ears, head lowered.
Akshu (low, steady)
“Sorry, ma’am.”
A collective gasp rises from inside 9th B.
The fiery Akshu, known for never bowing, stands humbled.
For an instant Bela’s eyes widen, then soften. A ghost of a smile edges her lips—warm, almost protective. This isn’t victory; it’s understanding.
Inside, Vanshu leans toward Khushi, whispering:
Vanshu (hushed)
“Dekha? Akshu ke liye ego sabse pehle toot-ta hai… jab saamne trust aur care ho.”
Khushi (nodding, proud)
“Hamesha. I’m proud of her.”
Bela steps closer, resting a hand lightly atop Akshu’s bowed head—a quiet sign of acceptance.
Bela (gentle, yet firm)
“Bas. Galti se seekhna… sabse badi jeet hai.”
Akshu straightens, relief flickering in her eyes.
Before moving on, Bela addresses the class clearly:
Bela
“School khatam hote hi… tum teenon — Akshika, Vanshika, aur Khushi — staffroom mein aana. Mujhe baat karni hai.”
A low murmur stirs through 9th B as Bela walks away, saree swaying, leaving an air of quiet authority behind.
Akshu exhales, meeting Vanshu and Khushi’s gaze. They nod in silent solidarity; rebellion has faded, replaced by resolve.
---
STAFFROOM – LATE AFTERNOON
The staffroom is quiet, sunlight pooling across piles of notebooks and a steaming kettle. Bela stands by the desk, arms folded, watching the three girls shuffle in.
They line up, still in uniform, bags clutched to their sides.
Bela (measured tone)
“Sit. Ab subah ka gussa khatam. Ab padhai ki baat karte hain. Unit tests mai zyada time nhi bacha h.. Already tum teeno ka mid-term admission h.. ”
(They sit, glancing at one another.)
Bela
“I want an honest update. How are you coping with the syllabus? Akshika, start.”
Akshu (clearing throat, steady)
“Ma’am, baaki subjects theek chal rahe hain… bas Maths ka level yahan thoda zyada hai. Meri purani school se alag pattern tha, adjust karne mein time lag raha hai.”
Bela (nodding, calm)
“Hmm. Theek. Mai personally tumhare liye—extra practice sheets banaungi. Tum bhi roz thoda-thoda solve karna.”
She shifts her gaze.
Bela
“Vanshika?”
Vanshu (relaxed, faint smile)
“Honestly ma’am, main sab manage kar rahi hoon… bas time management ka issue hota hai kabhi-kabhi. Assignments aur practice dono ek saath sambhalna mushkil lagta hai.”
Bela (approving)
“Time table banao. Jo tumhe fit lagta hai main check kar sakti hoon. Discipline se ho jayega.”
Finally, Bela’s eyes rest on Khushi. The girl fiddles with her skirt's edge, throat dry.
Bela
“Khushi? Tumhari progress?”
Khushi (voice small, nervous)
“Ma’am… main try kar rahi hoon. Sab subjects mein… bas practice kar rahi hoon.”
(She avoids Bela’s gaze, knowing Maths—and especially Science—are her biggest hurdles.)
Bela (brows knitting, reading Khushi’s tone)
(quiet, thoughtful)
“Hmm… tumhare bolne se lag raha hai kuch subjects mai problem h.”
(Khushi’s fingers tighten around her bag strap; she doesn’t answer. Bela studies her for a beat, but decides not to push.)
Bela (firmer now, gaze sweeping all three)
“Sun lo, tum teenon ko ek cheez yaad rakhna h — excuses se result nahi milta. Jo bhi subject mushkil lag raha hai, usme extra mehnat karo. Khushi, tum bhi. ‘Try’ bolna kaafi nahi hai, actual padhna padega.”
(Khushi nods quickly, eyes low.)
Bela
“Roz homework ke alawa at least ek ghanta revision. Jo nahi samajh aata, seedha mere paas aaoge. Samjhe?”
Akshu & Vanshu & Khushi (together)
“Ji, ma’am.”
Bela (still firm, but softer at the edges)
“Main tumhare potential pe doubt nahi kar rahi. Bas attitude aur effort sahi hona chahiye. Tum log smart ho — ab proof bhi chahiye. Kal se main check karungi kaun kitna revise karta hai.”
(The girls exchange quick glances; the weight of responsibility sinks in.)
Bela (straightening, finality in her voice)
“Ab jao. Kal se ek naye tareeke se shuru karna. Padhna priority hai — baki sab baad mein.”
The trio rise, murmuring a respectful “Ji, ma’am.” As they step out, Khushi exhales shakily. Akshu nudges her shoulder with a small, reassuring smile; Vanshu gives a quick thumbs-up. Inside the staffroom, Bela watches them leave, resolve in her eyes — she won’t let their spark go untended.
---
CLASS 1-B – LAST BELL
The bell clangs, a chorus of chairs scraping.
Aashvi, Vanya and Kikvi sling their tiny satchels over one shoulder. A few crayons roll across the desk as they tidy up.
Kikvi (peering at the little bandage on her elbow)
“Dekho, bilkul dard nahi hai ab!”
Vanya (grinning)
“Miss ne bola kal se writing practice normal kar sakte hain.”
Aashvi (tilting her chin, adjusting her hairband)
“Haan, chhodo… chalo jaldi. Mumma wait kar rahi hongi.”
They scamper toward the corridor, shoes squeaking.
CORRIDOR – OUTSIDE 1-B
Team Unstoppable — Akshu, Vanshu, Khushi — have just stepped out of the staffroom, still carrying their bags. The two groups almost collide near the staircase.
Khushi crouches instinctively, soft smile on her face.
Khushi
“Arre chhoti army! Chot kaisi hai ab?”
Kikvi (beaming, showing elbow)
“Bilkul thik, Didi!”
Vanya (shy but smiling)
“Better… ab likh bhi sakte hain.”
Khushi pats their heads fondly. Vanshu smiles at their cuteness instantly checking their wounds while Akshu’s gaze shifts to Aashvi, who is standing a little apart, arms folded, chin high.
Akshu (gentle)
“Aashvi? Tum theek ho?”
Aashvi rolls her eyes ever so slightly, flips her ponytail.
Aashvi (cool, curt)
“Haan… main thik hoon. Aapko ya wo chashme wali didi ko meri chinta karne ki koi zarurat nhi h”
(without waiting, she strides past them toward the stairs)
Akshu’s jaw tightens, a retort already on her tongue.
Akshu (muttering, irritated)
“Ye attitude dekh rahi ho…”
She takes a half-step forward, but Vanshu slides in, catching her arm.
Vanshu (calm whisper)
“Chhod na Akshu. Bacchi hai… gussa kar ke kya milega?”
Akshu exhales, fists loosening. Khushi straightens, still watching the younger ones trot off toward the exit.
Khushi (softly)
“Hmm.. Chod na.. Wo log safe h bas.”
The three sisters exchange a quiet glance, tension easing as they turn toward the staircase, ready to head for their own ride.
---
SEHGAL HOUSE GARDEN – LATE EVENING (FEW DAYS LATER)
The sun has dipped low; a golden wash lies across the swings and trimmed hedges.
A cricket bat clutched under one arm, Aashvi squints at her “fielders” — Vanya and Kikvi — posted near the flowerbeds.
On the far end, Bela stands by the gate, chatting with two neighbour aunties, saree pallu draped neatly, her eyes still flicking back every few seconds to the girls.
Kikvi (cupping hands around mouth)
“Ball ghumaa ke maarna Aashi!”
Aashvi (grinning)
“Bas dekhna… sixer jaayega!”
She runs a tiny “pitch,” swings — THWACK!
The ball soars, clears the hedge and vanishes into the half-built construction site across the lane.
Vanya (gasps)
“Arre! Park ke bahar!”
Kikvi (worried)
“Chhod do Aashi, wahan jaane mana kiya tha… Mumma dekh lengi toh daant padegi!”
Vanya (pleading)
“Dangerous hai… gir jaogi toh?”
Aashvi bites her lip, glancing toward her mum across the grass. Bela laughs at something the neighbour says, momentarily turned away.
Aashvi (whisper, stubborn)
“Woh meri lucky ball hai… bina uske khel nahi hoga. Mai jaa rahi hoon tumlog mumma pe nazar rakhna... Bas jaldi se leke aa jaungi zyada dur nhi gaya hoga ball.”
She slips her bat down, ducks behind a bush, and darts out the park’s side gate toward the site.
---
ON THE OTHER SIDE– OUTSIDE HOTEL
A few lanes away, Khushi, Akshu and Vanshu step out, tote bags swinging. A bundle of project sheets and a pen-drive peek from Akshu’s pouch.
Akshu (checking list)
“Stationery, A4 paper… aur pen-drives. Bas.”
Vanshu (half-joking)
“Printer wale bhaiya time pe ho toh shaam bach jayegi.”
Khushi’s phone buzzes. She moves aside, answering.
Khushi (soft smile)
“Hello mummy…(to akshu and vanshu) tumlog jao mai aati hoon Baat karke. "
As she paces a few steps toward the road, her gaze idly sweeps the lane—
across the hedge she spots a tiny figure in tee and shorts slipping through the half-built scaffolding across from Sehgal House.
Khushi stills.
Khushi (murmuring into phone)
“Mummy, ek minute… main baad mein call karti hoon.”
She ends the call, eyes narrowing at the small silhouette climbing over a plank.
Khushi’s POV —
It’s unmistakably Aashvi, clutching her bat handle like a torch as she vanishes behind a stack of bricks.
Khushi (under breath)
“Yeh Aashvi… akele wahan kyu jaa rahi h? Wo bhi is waqt? ”
She glances back — Akshu and Vanshu are busy bargaining with printout wale bhaiya. Without a word, Khushi tucks her phone in her pocket and slips toward the site, her steps quick but quiet.
The street hums with scooters and hawkers;
behind the peeling plywood boards, the construction site yawns open — metal rods, scattered planks, an unfinished staircase.
Khushi pushes the barrier just enough to slip in, eyes locked on the faint giggle of Aashvi echoing from somewhere deeper inside.
Half-set walls, hanging steel rods, broken planks across puddles of cement water. Dust motes shimmer in the slanting evening light.
Khushi slips inside, heart hammering, her voice hushed but urgent.
Khushi (softly calling)
“Aashvi… kahan ho? Chalo bahar… yeh jagah safe nahi hai…”
Her sneakers crunch over rubble. A loose tin sheet groans somewhere above.
Faint humming answers her—a little tune Aashvi sings while peering under a stack of bricks, still searching for her neon cricket ball.
Aashvi oblivious, crouched near a ledge where the floor drops to an unfinished lower level. The plank under her shoe trembles with each shift of weight.
Khushi (sharper, low panic)
“Aashvi… bas! Ruk jao!”
She sees the plank flex, a rusted nail jutting, and a pile of rods leaning precariously.
Khushi breaks into a run.
Khushi lunges, wrapping her arm tight around the little girl’s waist and yanking her back against her chest.
The rods CLATTER—one grazes past, a splintered plank snaps.
A sharp sting—Khushi’s right palm slices open on the nail’s edge.
Khushi (grimacing, whisper)
“Bas… bas… kuch nahi hua… shh.”
Aashvi blinks, startled, finally registering the danger. Tears well.
Akshu and Vanshu noticing Khushi’s absence and hearing the noise,raced across the lane. They duck under the plywood, breathless.
Akshu
“Khushi! Sambhal ke!”
She and Vanshu dash forward as a loose beam tilts toward the sisters. Vanshu shoves Khushi and Aashvi aside, taking a scrape on her shoulder. Akshu braces an elbow, catching the beam just enough to guide it down harmlessly, skin grazing against rough cement.
Dust settles. The four crouch behind a half wall, panting.
Khushi’s hand bleeds down her wrist.
Vanshu’s sleeve torn, red streak on her arm.
Akshu rubs a raw mark on her elbow.
Aashvi clings to Khushi’s shirt, shaken.
Akshu (checking Khushi’s hand)
“Pagal ho gayi thi kya! Pehle apni jaan dekh leti…”
Khushi (soft, still holding Aashvi)
“Bacchi gir jaati toh… main kaise dekhti?”
Vanshu (exhales)
“Chalo… sabko bahar niklo. Ma'am ke paas chalna padega.”
The four stumble out of the half-built structure, coughing dust. A light breeze rustles the half-hung tarpaulin over the gate. All of them stand still for a few beats, letting the pounding in their chests ease.
Khushi leans back against a boundary wall, right palm streaked red, her other arm locked around the little girl.
Aashvi’s small fists clutch Khushi’s shirt, face buried against her shoulder, sobs shaking her.
Akshu (soft, crouching so her eyes meet Aashvi’s)
“Aashvi… shhh… dekho, ab hum bahar aa gaye. Tum bilkul safe ho.”
Vanshu (gently rubbing the child’s back)
“Brave girl ho na tum… dekho, girne nahi diya na kisi ne. Ab rona bandh, hmm?”
Aashvi sniffles, eyes darting between Akshu and Vanshu. Slowly, her sobs reduce to little hiccups, though her arms remain tight around Khushi’s neck.
Khushi (murmuring into her hair)
“Bas, chhoti… sab theek hai. Main yahin hoon.”
Aashvi shifts slightly, still unwilling to be put down, one tiny hand reaching sideways to clutch Akshu’s fingers as though stitching herself to both sisters for safety.
Akshu (half-smile, squeezing her hand)
“See? Hum teenon h tumhare saath. Ab darr ko bolo – bhaag jaane.”
Vanshu (trying a lighter tone)
“Cricket ki champion bhi darr gayi toh kaise chalega? Next time ball bahar jaye toh… kisi ko bula lena, samjhi?”
Aashvi gives a trembling nod, cheek still pressed to Khushi’s shoulder. Her breathing steadies. Khushi brushes a palm over the child’s hair despite the sting in her cut hand.
For a long moment, the four simply breathe—dust swirling away, the echo of the near miss still ringing but softened by warmth and closeness.
SEHGAL HOUSE - GARDEN
The evening shadows lengthen.
Kiku and Vanu stand by the wickets, eyes scanning the park.
Kiku (worried)
“Vanu… Aashi itni der se ball leke wapas kyon nahi aayi?”
Vanu (biting her lip)
“Mujhe bhi darr lag raha hai… chalo mumma ko batate hain.”
They sprint across the lawn.
Bela is finishing a neighbourly chat, arms folded, when the two burst in, breathless.
Kiku
“Mumma! Aashi ball lene gayi thi bahar… wapas nahi aayi!”
Vanu
“Construction side ke uss hisse mein gayi lagta hai…”
Bela’s face drains of colour.
She grips both their hands.
Bela (urgent)
“Kyaa.. Yeh sab.. Kaise.. Tum dono ne mujhe kyu nhi bataya.. Aur usko Jaane kaise diya. Chalo mere saath—abhi!”
LANE OUTSIDE SITE
Bela hurries out, Kiku and Vanu trotting by her side. Her eyes rake the dusty stretch—then freeze.
A few metres ahead:
Khushi stands unsteady, right hand bloodied, Aashvi clinging to her shoulder; Akshu and Vanshu hover close, brushing grit from their sleeves, faces pale.
Bela (voice breaking)
“Aashi!”
She rushes forward, panicked,arms out.
Bela (pleading)
“Yeh sab kya hua.. Baccha, meri god mein aa ja… please!”
But Aashvi burrows tighter into Khushi’s neck, one arm still stretched to clutch Akshu’s hand, whimpering.
Bela (softer now, coaxing)
“Aashi… Mumma yahan hai. Safe ho tum. Kya hua mera baccha.. Itni dari hui kyu h beta bata na mumma ko”
The child only shakes her head, clutching tighter.
Bela’s gaze lifts—and locks on the crimson streak across Khushi’s palm. Her breath hitches.
Bela (sharp, worried)
“Yeh kya hua haath ko? Khoon…!”
Her eyes dart to Akshu’s scraped elbow, Vanshu’s dusty knee.
Bela (voice trembling, maternal)
“Tum teenon ko chot lagi h?!”
Khushi manages a shaky smile, rocking the sobbing child.
Khushi (soft)
“Chinta mat kijiye, ma’am… Aashi ko bachate hue bas… thoda lag gaya.”
Akshu squeezes Aashvi’s little fingers.
Akshu (gentle)
“Ma'am, woh ball ke peeche chali gayi thi construction site ke andar… humne nikal liya.”
Vanshu nods, brushing grit off her own palms.
Bela swallows hard, emotion and relief warring on her face. She strokes Aashvi’s hair while checking Khushi’s bleeding hand, voice low but firm.
Bela
“Pehle yahan se chalo… chot saaf karni hai. Phir baat karenge.”
She gathers Kiku and Vanu close, her free hand hovering, torn between scooping Aashvi up and letting her cling to Khushi.
Khushi steadies her breath, feeling Aashvi’s little fists still knotted in her collar. The child’s sobs have softened to hiccups.
Khushi (soft, coaxing)
“Aashi… bas, ab Mumma ke paas jao chalo. Safe ho tum.”
She strokes the back of the girl’s head, murmuring reassurance. Gradually Aashvi loosens her grip, though one tiny fist still clings.
Khushi (whispering, smiling)
“Dekho… Mumma wait kar rahi hain. Unke paas chale?”
Aashvi sniffles, glances toward Bela, then back to Khushi. Khushi kisses her hair and gently guides her arms free, passing her into Bela’s waiting embrace.
Bela (urgent, maternal)
“Bas, meri bacchi… Mumma yahan hai.” (checks her quickly for bruises)
“Khushi, Akshu, Vanshu—ghar chalo. First aid karna zaroori hai.”
Akshu (shaking head)
“Ma’am, chinta mat kijiye… hotel paas hi hai. Hum wahan hi clean kar lenge.”
Bela (stern, insistent)
“Nahi! Yeh mazaak nahi hai—Khoon nikal raha h dekho! Tum sab mere saath chalo, abhi.”
Vanshu (calm, polite)
“Ma’am please… hum vaada karte hain ki abhi wahan pahunch ke wash, antiseptic sab karenge. Panic mat kijiye.”
Bela (raising voice slightly)
“Main order kar rahi hoon Vanshika—Chalo mere saath!”
The trio exchange a glance, then Khushi steps forward, voice steady but gentle.
Khushi
“Ma’am… sach bol rahe hain. Bas thodi si chot hai. Hum sambhal lenge. Aap tension mat lijiye.”
Bela’s jaw tightens. She looks at the blood on Khushi’s palm, the wound on Vanshu’s shoulder, the scrape on Akshu’s elbow. Anger flickers, but beneath it—worry. Finally she exhales, defeated.
Bela (low, firm)
“Promise karo—abhi first aid karoge. No delay.”
Akshu & Vanshu (together)
“Promise, ma’am.”
Khushi (nodding, soft)
“Ji, ma’am. Abhi.”
Khushi moves forward, brushing Aashvi’s damp cheek with her thumb, voice tender.
Khushi (to Aashvi)
“Apna dhyaan rakhna chhoti… aur agli baar se akele mat jaana, hmm?”
Aashvi clutches Bela’s shoulder, eyes still wide, nodding faintly.
Khushi offers a faint smile, turns to follow her sisters. The three begin walking toward the main road, their silhouettes fading into the evening.
Bela stands rooted, Aashvi curled against her chest, Kiku and Vanu hovering by her side. Her fingers trace the smear of blood on her kurti from Khushi’s palm. Relief battles frustration; her voice breaks in a whisper only Aashvi hears.
Bela (to herself)
“Yeh ladkiyaan… apni zidd chhodti nahi.”
She watches them disappear beyond the lane, helpless yet grateful they’re safe.
---
SEHGAL HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – EVENING
The door clicks shut behind them. Bela ushers the three girls in, her arm firm around Aashvi. Kiku and Vanu trail behind, glancing nervously at their sister.
Bela lowers herself onto the couch, settling Aashvi in her lap. The little girl’s fingers knot into Bela’s kurti, face buried in her shoulder.
Bela (soft, coaxing)
“Bas beta, ghar aa gaye. Tum safe ho. Paani peelo, thoda sa.”
She pours a glass, gently tipping it to Aashvi’s lips. The child sips without a word, eyes glassy, shoulders still trembling.
Kiku crouches by the armrest, eyes wide.
Kiku (careful, trying to lighten)
“Aashi… ball mil gayi? Batao toh Mumma ko?”
Aashvi only presses her cheek harder into Bela’s chest.
Vanu kneels on the other side, voice quiet but warm.
Vanu
“Aashi… ek shabd bhi nahi? Hum sunne ko ready hain. Bol na kuch.. Tu chup rehti h toh kuch accha nhi lagta h.”
Silence stretches. Bela strokes her back, murmuring something soothing in her ear. Finally, Aashvi shifts a little, her small voice cracked but clear.
Aashvi (whisper, guilt-ridden)
“Mumma… woh didi…” (a tiny sob) “…unke haath mein chot lagi… bohot… meri wajah se. Khoon nikal raha tha. Unko dard ho raha hoga, na Mumma?”
Bela cups the girl’s damp cheek, eyes softening despite her own lingering fear.
Bela (low, reassuring)
“Shh… beta, accident tha. Didi ne tumhe bachaya, isliye chot lagi. Par woh strong hain. Abhi theek kar lenge apne aap ko.”
Kiku slips a hand over Aashvi’s knee; Vanu nods encouragingly, trying to coax a smile.
Vanu (gentle)
“Aashi… Didi log strong hain. Par tum bhi strong ho, samjhi? Ab bas next time Mumma ke bina aise kahin nahi Jaana. Hum dar gaye the bohot pata h.. ”
Aashvi sniffles, still clinging, but a fraction of the tension in her small shoulders loosens. Bela hugs her tighter, her voice quiet but steady.
Bela (whisper, into Aashvi’s hair)
“Mumma yahan hai… sab theek hai. Tumhari Didi bhi theek ho jaayengi.”
The living room hums with the faint rustle of Bela’s kurti, the distant tick of the clock—an island of quiet after the storm.
---
HOTEL ROOM – NIGHT
The latch clicks shut, sealing the three of them away from the world. Cool air from the AC hums, faintly rattling the curtains. They wash off the dust of the evening, splash water on their faces, and finally settle on the bed, breaths still uneven.
On the bedside table, the first-aid box lies open—cotton balls spilling, antiseptic glinting under the yellow lamp, bandage rolled and waiting.
Khushi (forcing a smile, flexing her unhurt hand)
“Chalo… pehle ek ek karke shuru karte h. Vanshu, tu idhar aa.”
Khushi steadies the kit with her left hand while Akshu holds Vanshu’s shoulder steady. They dab antiseptic on the raw patch just below Vanshu’s collarbone. Vanshu hisses but keeps still.
Vanshu (grimacing)
“Aah… bas thoda aur, phir khatam.”
Akshu (soothing and blowing on the wound)
“Bas, aur do second. Strong girl.”
They tape a gauze over the scrape, press it gently. Vanshu exhales, relieved.
Akshu (reaching for cotton)
“Ab mera dekh lete hain. Yeh elbow poora chhil gaya yaar.”
Vanshu chuckles softly, masking her sting as she cleans Akshu’s bleeding elbow, wrapping it in gauze with care.
When they turn to Khushi, the mood shifts. Her right palm and wrist are streaked with drying blood, a deep cut pulsing stubbornly. Both sisters freeze.
Akshu (panicked whisper)
“Yeh… yeh toh kaafi gehra hai, Vanshu. Khoon ruk hi nahi raha.”
Vanshu (eyes brimming)
“Akshu… kya karein? Doctor bulaye kya?”
Khushi notices the tremor in their voices, forces calm.
Khushi (soft, steady)
“Arre, Pagal ho kya. Kuch nahi hoga. Bas clean karte hain… thoda gehra hai, bas isliye zyada lag raha hai.”
She offers her trembling hand. Akshu pours antiseptic on cotton, hands shaking.
Akshu (warning)
“Lag sakta hai… bahut.. Mujhe toh dar lag raha h.. Teri jagah kahi mai hi na chilla du.”
Cotton grazes the wound—Khushi jerks back with a sharp cry.
Khushi (shouting)
“Ahhh! Bas, mat karo…!”
Akshu and Vanshu exchange frantic looks, almost in tears.
Vanshu (pleading)
“Khushi please… thoda sa toh karna hi padega, infection ho jayega.”
Khushi clenches her jaw, breathing hard, then cups both their faces with her good hand.
Khushi (gentle, breathy)
“Accha suno… main thoda chillaaungi, par tum dono strong rehna. Hum teeno saath hain, theek ho jayega.”
She stretches out the injured hand again, eyes squeezed shut. Akshu nods, dabbing quickly. Khushi flinches, biting her lip to stop a scream. Vanshu steadies the wrist, whispering encouragement.
Vanshu (soft)
“Bas, bas… almost ho gaya.”
Finally, gauze wraps around the cut, taped snug. The room exhales with them. Khushi leans back against the headboard, pale but smiling faintly.
Khushi (weak chuckle)
“Uff I swear yeh antiseptic lagana kisi yudh se kam nhi.”
Akshu wipes her eyes; Vanshu sniffles, hugging her briefly.
Akshu (half-angry, half-relieved)
“Pagal… agli baar aise stunt mat karna.”
Khushi (teasing)
“Agli baar ho bhi gaya toh tum dono ho na.”
Laughter, shaky but real, breaks the heaviness. Outside, the city hums, oblivious to the little sisterhood regrouping over a box of bandages.
---
SEHGAL HOUSE – NIGHT
Main door clicks open. Mahir steps in, loosening his watch, the day’s fatigue on his face. He freezes as soon as he spots Bela on the sofa, Aashi still clinging wordlessly to her, Vanu and Kiku huddled close. A faint tremor runs through the room.
Mahir drops his bag, strides across and gently lifts Aashi into his arms.
Mahir (worried)
“Arre meri gudiya… yeh kya haal bana rakha hai? Bela, kya hua?”
Bela exhales shakily, brushing Aashi’s damp hair back.
Bela (voice low)
“Garden mai khel rahe the.. Ball ke peeche… construction site tak chali gayi thi. Main darr gayi thi Mahir ji… Khushi, Akshu aur Vanshu waha time pe pahunch gaye. Agar wo nahi hote toh…”
Her words falter, eyes glassy. She recounts the rush—the fall of bricks, the panic, the three girls shielding Aashi. Mahir listens silently, jaw tight. He presses a kiss to Aashi’s temple, still rocking her softly.
Mahir (quiet reassurance)
“Shh… bas, sab theek hai ab. Main hoon yahan.”
He crouches, drawing Vanu and Kiku close, ruffling their hair, speaking in an even, soothing tone.
Mahir
“Tum dono bhi dar gaye na? Ab sab normal hai… Daro nhi Papa ke paas ho tum.”
Gradually, the tension ebbs. The house staff lay the dinner table; They eat together. Through the meal, he keeps slipping an arm around Aashi, coaxing small morsels into her mouth. Vanu and Kiku nibble quietly, still glancing toward their sister.
Later, upstairs, Bela and Mahir guide all three children into bed. Aashi clings a moment longer to Bela before Mahir hums her favourite lullaby, fingers stroking her hair until her breathing steadies. Vanu and Kiku curl beside her, comfort returning in slow waves
Lights dim. Mahir shuts the door softly, finds Bela standing at the window, arms folded tight.
Mahir (soft)
“Abhi bhi soch rahi ho?”
Bela’s brow creases, the memory vivid.
Bela
“Khushi ke haath se khoon ruk nahi raha tha, Mahir ji… par wo fir bhi bas Aashi ko sambhal rahi thi. Akshu, Vanshu… sabne jaan ki parwah kiye bina meri bacchi ko bachaya h.”
Mahir steps closer, resting a hand on her shoulder.
Mahir (steady)
“Mai samajh gaya tha tumhari chinta. Par socho—unki wajah se Aashi safe hai. Kal subah jab tum unse milogi school mai tab check kar lena… aur zarurat ho toh doctor bhi bhej denge. Waise kuch din pehle wo teeno mujhe mile the coincidentally.. Late ho rahe the school ke liye auto strike thi.. Tumse dar rahe the.. Phir achanak gaadi ke saamne aa gaye ki sir lift de dijiye please warna ma'am scale se maarengi" (he says in a teasing tone to lighten the mood)
Bela(shocked, a faint smile creeping her lips)
"Pagal h yeh teeno bilkul.. Kuch din pehle hi Akshu ko 100 sit ups karaye the maine ladne ke liye.. Aur abhi jo hua wo dekh ke kaun kahega yeh wahi ladki h.."
Mahir(soft)
"Aise hi h teeno.. Ab tumhare students h.. Sambhal lenge.. Chalo.. Aaram karlo ab"
Bela nods faintly, still seeing the blood-slick palm in her mind. Mahir tightens his arm around her, silent promise in the gesture.
MASTER BEDROOM – NIGHT
Mahir pushes the door open, flicks on a dim side-lamp. The soft glow spreads across the neat room. He guides Bela to sit on the edge of the bed, pours a glass of water from the carafe and presses it into her trembling hands.
Mahir (gently)
“Lo… pehle yeh piyo. Saans lo thoda.”
Bela sips, her shoulders still tight. The moment the glass leaves her fingers, her voice cracks.
Bela (whisper breaking into sobs)
“Mahir ji… socha bhi nahi tha aaj aisa din dekhna padega. Aashi… humari bacchi agar usko kuch ho jaata toh? Main… main toh…”
Tears spill; she presses a palm to her face. Mahir quietly slides closer, fingers stroking her hair.
Mahir (low, steady)
“Shh… abhi sab theek hai. Hamari gudiya safe hai Bela.. Shaant ho jao.. ”
Bela shakes her head, the words tumbling.
Bela (choked)
“Par aap samajh rahe hain? Wo teen… har baar hamare baccho ko bachane aa jaate hain. Aaj toh… apni jaan ki parwah nahi ki. Mahir ji, unke haath-pair pe khoon tha… unhe itni chot lagi h.. hotel mein akeli ladkiyaan… na khane ka thikana, na koi doctor… mujhe darr lag raha hai. Hum kuch kar nahi rahe… main kuch karna chahti hoon.. Aur maine koshish ki par unki zidd. Maine unhe kaha ghar chalne ke liye par mana kar diya unhone.. Itne ziddi kyu h yeh teeno.”
Mahir cups her damp cheeks, eyes soft.
Mahir (reassuring)
“Bela, shant ho jao. Tumhara darr sach hai, par abhi woh bacche bhi bahadur hain. Kal subah dekhte hain kya kar sakte hain. Unki madad karenge, doctor bhi bhej sakte hain, jo zarurat ho hum karenge. Tum bas shaant ho jao, saans lo.”
Bela collapses against his chest, sobs muffled in his tshirt. Mahir holds her firmly, palm rubbing slow circles on her back.
Mahir (murmuring)
“Bas… bas… main hoon yahan. Hum sab sambhal lenge. Tum bas apne aap ko sambhalo.”
The room goes quiet except for her uneven breaths. Mahir’s arms stay locked around her—a silent promise that tomorrow, they’ll make it right for the three girls who risked everything.
After some time the sobs in Bela’s throat have softened; she sits curled against Mahir, glass empty on the nightstand. Mahir keeps stroking her hair, letting her breathing steady.
A beat passes. Mahir clears his throat, voice low but thoughtful.
Mahir (measured)
“Bela… ek baat sochi hai. Hamare ghar ke guest rooms waise bhi khaali pade hain. Mumbai jaisi jagah pe teen ladkiyaan hotel room Mein aise akele… mujhe safe nahi lagta. Even if they find a flat struggles kam nhi honge.. Khana manage karna.. Padhai.. School.. Aaj maine dekha unhe.. Wo bhale hi bahar se normal the ekdum but I could sense their helplessness Bela... Kyu na unhe yahan guest room de dein? Tumhari bhi nazar rahegi, woh bhi surakshit rahenge. Unke parents ki bhi chinta kam ho jaayegi.”
Bela stiffens, blinking at him as if he’s spoken something impossible.
Bela (shocked, stammering)
“Mahir ji… aap yeh kya keh rahe hain? Aise kaise… woh meri students hain! Teacher-student ke beech yeh line main kaise tod sakti hoon? Aur humare bacche unka kya?”
Mahir shifts, gently tilting her chin upward so she meets his gaze.
Mahir (firm, quiet)
“Dekho meri taraf, Bela.”
She hesitates, eyes flicking up to his.
Mahir (soft but pointed)
“Dil par haath rakh kar batao… itna sab hone ke baad bhi tumhe lagta hai ki woh sirf tumhare students hain?”
Bela swallows, Mahir’s words hanging in the dim room—images of Khushi’s bleeding hand, Akshu and Vanshu’s pale faces, Aashvi clinging to Khushi flashing behind her eyes. Her lips part, no answer forming.
The yellow bedside lamp pools soft light across Bela’s damp face. Mahir’s hand still cradles her chin; his voice stays calm but nudges the truth.
Mahir (low, insistent)
“Bolo, Bela… kya hua? Abhi kuch der pehle tumne khud kaha tha—jab-jab hamare baccho par musibat aayi, yeh teenon saamne khadi rahi hain. Tum roz school mein kitne students se milti ho… kitnon ke naam tak yaad nahi rehte, kyunki farq nahi padta—woh sirf tumhare students hain.
Phir yeh teen alag kyon? Tum inki har chhoti-badi baat mujhse share karti ho. Akshika ko tum ‘Akshu’ kehti ho, Vanshika ‘Vanshu’ ho gayi… yeh nicknames kab teacher-student ke rishton mein aate hain? Khushi ke haath ki chot dekh kar tumhaara dil baahar aa gaya… sirf is liye kyunki usne Aashi ki jaan bachayi?”
Bela’s lips tremble. She wipes at a fresh tear, eyes darting away, then back to Mahir.
Bela (broken whisper)
“Mahir ji… main… main teacher hoon, mujhe line maintain karni chahiye. Par… jab unka naam sunte hu dil kasak uthta hai, jab woh hanste hain toh lagta hai ghar ke bachche hain… aaj Akshu vanshu ki chot dekh ke.. Khushi ka haath dekh ke… main bas… darr gayi thi.”
She presses her palms together, voice catching.
Bela (choking)
“Woh hotel ke kamre mein hain, bina parivaar, bina sahare… aur main bas yahan baith kar ro rahi hoon. Un—teenon ko dekh kar lagta hai jaise… jaise main sirf unki teacher nahi rahi. Par kyu Mahir ji? Yeh kab ho gaya?”
Mahir cups her face, thumbs brushing the tears away.
Mahir (gentle, sure)
“Kyuki kuch rishte anjaane mai dil ke bohot kareeb aa jaate h Bela.. Uspe kisi ka control nhi hota h.. Toh maan lo, tumhara dil unhe apna bana chuka hai. Unke liye jo darr tum mehsoos karti ho… woh tabhi hota hai jab rishta sirf attendance register tak simit na ho.”
Bela exhales shakily, the fight draining out.
Bela (soft, almost to herself)
“Shayad… shayad aap sahi keh rahe h.. main unse door nahi reh sakti. Jo hua aaj… mujhe samajh aa gaya ki woh kitne nazdeek aa gayi hain.”
Mahir gives a faint smile, rubbing her shoulder.
Mahir (reassuring)
“Toh fir hamara guest room kyun khaali rahe? Unke parents ko bhi tasalli milegi, tumhare dil ko bhi sukoon. Kal baat karte hain un teenon se—agar chahein toh yahan aa jaayein.”
Bela nods slowly, eyes still wet but softer now, the knot of fear loosening as she leans back against his chest.
To be continued...
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