So let’s begin,

SEHGAL HOUSE – STUDY ROOM

The door slams shut behind Bela. The echo lingers like thunder, leaving the room colder than before. For a heartbeat, none of the three sisters move — breaths uneven, faces wet with tears, bodies aching with every bruise and strike.

And then, as if pulled by the same invisible force, Akshu rushes to Khushi, while Vanshu breaks from her corner. The three of them collapse into each other’s arms, clinging desperately.

Akshu (sobbing, whispering through hiccups):

“Khushi… bas… please ro mat… hum sabki galti thi yaar…”

Vanshu (crying, clutching both their shoulders tight):

“Sab galti pe the hum… par ek dusre ke bina toh sambhal bhi nahi paayenge… Hum sab milke maafi maanenge ma’am se.. ”

Khushi buries her face against them, her voice raw, breaking with guilt and pain.

Khushi (choking, words tumbling out):

“Mujhse bohot badi galti ho gayi… ma’am bohot zyada hurt hui h.. Hum teeno ne toh promise kiya tha na ki ma’am ko disappoint nhi karenge phir yeh sab kaise ho gaya.. Suna na tum dono ne kya kaha ma’am ne wapas aisa kuch hua toh wo saare haq cheen lengi humse…”

Their tears mingle, soaking into each other’s shoulders. The ache from the strikes still burns across their skin, but in that closeness, it feels a little lighter — as if their unity has stitched together the broken pieces of their hearts.

They cry harder, not just from the pain, but from the release — from holding back too much, for too long. The punishment had broken their pride, but in this moment, their bond feels stronger than ever.

Akshu (softly, voice trembling):

“Jo bhi ho… ab se hum saath rahenge… chahe saza ho ya dard. Aur sab kuch share karenge kuch nhi chupayenge ek dusre se kabhi.. ”

The three sisters hold on tighter, sobbing until their voices fade into the quiet of the room — three guilty hearts, one unshaken bond.

Bela & Mahir’s Room -

Bela storms in, her face flushed red with anger still burning in her veins. But the moment her eyes fall on Mahir — waiting silently on the couch, worry etched in every line of his face — her breath shudders.

And then, without a word, she breaks. She rushes forward and crashes into his arms, hugging him so tightly as if trying to anchor herself.

Bela (choking, tears finally spilling):

“Mahir ji… main… main… itna gussa, itni disappointment… kyu.. kyu mujhe itna gussa gaya …”

Mahir’s arms tighten around her, one hand caressing her hair, the other patting her back in slow, steady rhythm. He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t question — he just lets her cry, letting her pour out everything she had held back in front of the girls.

Mahir (softly, calm as ever):

“Shhh… bas Bela… ab rona bandh karo… tumne jo kiya, jo kaha… sab zaroori tha. Agar tumne nahi samjhaya hota toh unhe kabhi ehsaas nahi hota. Tum unse pyaar karti ho Bela.. Tumhare mann ki feelings tum abhi accept nhi kar pa rahi ho is liye bas tumhe samajh nhi aa raha.. Tum ek Maa ki tarah unse pyaar katne lagi ho Bela is liye yeh sab tumne kiya.. Ab shaant hi jao.. Unhe bhi apni galti ka ehsaas ho gaya h.. ”

Bela pulls back just enough to look at him, her eyes swollen, her voice trembling.

Bela:

“Lekin Mahir ji… unhe maarte waqt… mujhe lag raha tha jaise main apna gussa nahi, apni hi bekar si bechaini nikal rahi hoon. Wo dar ki unhe agar kuch ho jaata toh.. Unhone jo kuch saha ek hafte tak chup chaap.. Khushi ki badtameezi mere se bardasht nhi hua aur sab bahar nikal gaya.. Wo bacche hai abhi… aur main… main unhe dard de rahi thi… mai itni nirdayi kabse se ho gayi?.”

Mahir gently wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumb, then makes her sit on the bed. He pours a glass of water and hands it to her, his gaze steady, grounding her.

Mahir (soft but firm):

“Bela… tum nirdayi nahi ho. Tumne dard diya, haan… par saath hi ek sabak bhi diya jo shayad aur koi nahi sikha sakta tha unhe. Kabhi kabhi pyaar sirf palak jhapakte sambhalne ka naam nahi hota… kabhi kabhi pyaar dikhana padta hai unhe unki galtiyon ka bojh . Warna kal ko koi aur unhe aur bura dard dega.”

Bela takes the glass with trembling hands, sips slowly, her tears still falling. But in Mahir’s words, she finds a strange reassurance — that her storm wasn’t without meaning.

Mahir, after giving her water, tries to ease her stiff mood.

Mahir (teasing, with a small smirk):

“Waise… itna maar diya becharo ko… chalenge kaise? Ab toh seedhi bhi railing pakad pakad ke chadhna aur utarna padega unhe.”

Bela shoots him a glare but her lips twitch — fighting a smile.

Bela (half warning, half amused):

“Mahir ji…”

Mahir (chuckling, raising hands in surrender):

“Accha baba, gussa mat karo. Pehle dinner kar lete hain. Tumne khud bhi kuch khaaya nahi h… aur bacche bhi bhookhe honge.”

Bela exhales, nodding faintly, still heavy with emotions but calmer now under his steady presence.

[Girls’ Room]

The trio limps inside, their faces pale, their arms and legs covered with red welts. They collapse on the bed, groaning in unison.

Akshu (clutching her thigh):

“Yaar… itna maara h ma’am ne… ab toh ghar mein half pant pehni toh pakka izzat lut jayegi. Dekho pair aur haath ki halat… main toh toot gayi hu, lagta hai ek-ek haddiyan hil gayi.”

Vanshu (looking at her arms dramatically):

“Sahi mai… mere sundar-sundar haath-pair ko kya bana diya… maar maar ke zebra bana diya. Black and red stripes hi stripes.”

Khushi (softer, troubled):

“Ma’am ki maar se zyada dangerous unki chuppi hai… jab unhone mujhe ignore kiya na… dil kaanp gaya tha andar se. Ekdum se lagta hai sab khatam ho gaya.”

The three sit silently, absorbing both the pain and the guilt. None of them dare mention going downstairs — the thought of facing Bela again makes their stomachs churn.

[Kitchen – Later]

The house is quiet. Team Aashvi has already been tucked in bed, sleeping peacefully. Bela, in her usual disciplined manner, is serving food into plates. But her eyes flick automatically towards the staircase.

The trio hasn’t come down yet.

Her jaw tightens. Not because of anger — but because she knows their hesitation. She stirs the curry slowly, lost in thought, as Mahir comes from behind and places a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Mahir (softly):

“Nahi aaye na abhi tak? Dar rahe honge. Tumhari maar se zyada tumhari nazar unhe hilaa deti hai, Bela.”

[Girls’ Room – Night]

The three sit huddled together on the bed, their bodies aching, the silence in the room only filled with their occasional groans.

Vanshu (whispering, hugging her knees):

“Mujhe toh bhookh lag rahi hai… par ma’am ke saamne dinner table pe baithna… bas soch ke hi dar lag raha hai. Kya karein?”

Khushi (shaking her head, guilt heavy in her voice):

“Bhookh toh sabko lagi hogi… lekin khana khane ka haq tabhi hai na jab ma’am hume maaf kare. Aaj… abhi toh main saamna karne layak hi nahi hu.”

Akshu (sighing deeply, rubbing her sore legs):

“Thik keh rahi hai Khushi… sach kahun toh abhi plate mein baith kar kuch khaana bhi bojh lag raha hai. Mandir mein chal ke baithte hain… thodi der shaanti milegi. Shayad thoda mann halka ho.”

The other two look at her, and silently agree.

[Living Room – Mandir Corner]

The mandir is softly lit, a faint golden glow from the diya flickering on the idols. The trio enters quietly, their steps dragging, and kneels down on the white mat spread in front of the mandir.

For the first time since morning, there is no noise, no scolding, no chaos — only silence.

Akshu closes her eyes, folding her hands tightly.

Vanshu stares at the flame, the reflection shimmering in her tear-filled eyes.

Khushi bows her head low, as if seeking forgiveness not just from God, but from the one person she respects the most.

They sit there peacefully, letting the heaviness of the day settle, their minds replaying every incident — the principal’s office, their words, their fight, Bela’s fury, and the unbearable silence that followed.

For the first time, their sore bodies forget the pain of the stick — what weighs on them more is the burden in their hearts.

Akshu (closing her eyes, folding hands tight, mind whispering):

“Kanha ji… maine galti ki. Ma’am ka dil dukhaya… aur apna bhi. Mujhe himmat dijiye ki aage se apni strength sahi jagah use karun… na gusse mein, na galat tarike se. Bas… mujhe ma’am ka trust dobara jeetne ka mauka dijiye.”

Her eyes remain shut, but her lips tremble.

Vanshu (staring at the flame, thoughts heavy):

“Maine sabse badi galti ki… ek hafte tak sab chhupaya. Agar pehle hi ma’am ko bata deti toh na police station jaana padta, na aaj sab yeh dard seh rahe hote. Ma’am ke saamne abhi jaane ki bhi himmat nhi ho rahi h. Kanha… mujhe apne words aur apne actions ke liye responsible banna seekha do. Ma’am ko proud feel karwana hai mujhe… bas ek chance aur.”

She wipes a tear that escapes her eye.

Khushi (head bowed, palms pressed together, voice inside breaking):

“Ma’am ko kabhi hurt na karne ki dua maangi thi… aur aaj sabse zyada hurt maine hi kar diya. Unki Baat sabke samane kaat di, badtameezi ki, unke saamne curse word bol diya… kya mooh dikhau ab? Kanha, please… mujhe sahi raasta dikhaiye. Main ma’am ko khone ka soch bhi nahi sakti. Agar unka trust phir se jeet paun… toh isse badi kripa aur kuch nahi hogi.”

Her tears fall onto the marble floor, the diya’s light catching the glimmer.

For a while, none of them speak. Just the three sisters sitting quietly, their guilt heavier than their wounds, their hearts quietly asking for strength and forgiveness.

In that silence, they find a strange peace — as if the mandir itself was telling them that acceptance of mistake is the first step to redemption.

Bela walks past quietly with a tray, expecting the girls to finally come down for dinner. But the sight she sees halts her steps.

The trio sits cross-legged on the mandir floor — heads bowed, hands folded, faces streaked with dried tears. The diya’s soft glow outlines their red arms and legs, their sore bodies trembling slightly, yet their silence steady.

Bela’s eyes soften for a moment.

(Inside her mind)

"Yeh bacche… abhi bhi punishment ke baad mandir aa gaye? Apne guilt ke saath… shanti dhoondhne. Shayad samajh aa gaya hai inhe… shayad sach-much realise kar li hai apni galti."

Her heart tugs, but her sternness doesn’t let her step forward just yet. She simply stands there, watching.

Akshu’s lips move in a small prayer.

Vanshu wipes her eyes but doesn’t break posture.

Khushi’s folded hands tremble, her shoulders heavy with shame.

Bela feels an ache rise in her chest.

"Meri maar, ya daant se zyada… unhe meri ignorance aur disappointment ne tod diya h. Aur ab dekh rahi hoon… unki aankhon mein sach mein pachtawa hai."

For the first time since evening, Bela exhales deeply. She places the tray quietly on the nearby table, her eyes still fixed on them.

Mahir, who had followed her halfway, notices the scene too. He rests a hand gently on Bela’s shoulder, whispering:

“Mujhe pata tha… tumhari shiksha unhe todti nahi… banaati hai. Dekh lo, samajh gaye teeno.”

Bela’s throat tightens, but she keeps her silence. She simply turns away before any of the girls notice her watching — hiding the wave of emotion that threatened to break through her stern façade.

[Kitchen – Sehgal House]

Bela was quietly arranging the last of the food, her hands moving with practiced precision but her eyes still heavy from what she had just witnessed at the mandir. Mahir leaned casually against the counter, watching her in silence.

Finally, she placed the tray down with three plates neatly served and said, her voice low but firm:

Bela: “Mahir ji… aap yeh khane ki tray baccho ke room de aayenge please. Agar main gayi bulane, toh wo thik se khayenge hi nahi.”

Mahir studied her face for a moment — the strict tone was still there, but beneath it, he could clearly hear the motherly concern. He smiled faintly and nodded.

Mahir: “Main de aata hoon. Tum chinta mat karo… aaram se khana khalo.”

He lifted the tray carefully and turned to leave. But before he could step out of the kitchen, Bela’s voice stopped him again.

Bela (softly, almost like a whisper): “Teeno ko bol dijiyega… acche se khayein. Plate mein kuch bhi chhode nahi. Bhookh lagi hogi, theek se khaaya bhi nahi h subah se.”

Mahir turned his head slightly, watching her with warmth. The fierceness of “Bela the Ma’am” had melted just enough to reveal “Bela the protector.”

He gave a small nod, his voice gentle:

Mahir: “Un tak tumhari baat waise hi pohncha doonga jaise tum keh rahi ho.”

And with that, he carried the tray out of the kitchen, leaving Bela standing still — her hands pressed on the counter, her stern mask intact, but her heart beating only for the three upstairs.

[Girls’ Room – Night]

A soft knock came at the door. The three girls, still sitting cross-legged on the bed in their loose T-shirts and full pants, exchanged confused glances. When the door opened and Mahir stepped in, tray balanced in his hands, all three instantly lowered their eyes, their posture stiff with awkwardness. The guilt of earlier weighed heavy — especially after what he had done for them.

Mahir (lightly, setting the tray on the study table):

“Relax… khana dene aaya hoon. Tumhari ma’am ne bheja hai aur order diya hai ki saara khatam kar dena, plate mein kuch bhi bachna nahi chahiye. Warna…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. All three instantly imagined Bela’s glare and ears twitched at the thought.

Khushi (quiet, guilty, not meeting his eyes):

“Iski zaroorat nahi thi, sir…”

Mahir chuckled, the sound breaking the heaviness in the room.

Mahir:

“Kaisi zaroorat nahi thi? Dekho, itni mehnat karne ke baad bohot zor ki bhookh lagti hai, main jaanta hoon. Is liye khana zaroori hai. Aur waise bhi, agar tumne nahi khaya toh Bela tum teeno se pehle meri class legi.”

At this, the trio couldn’t help but chuckle, exchanging shy smiles. The mention of their “ma’am’s” scolding sounded way funnier when paired with Mahir’s mock-fear. The mood instantly lightened.

Mahir (with a gentle smile, turning to leave):

“Chalo, kha lo acche se. Aur apna dhyaan rakhna.”

He gave them a reassuring look and stepped out, closing the door softly behind him — leaving the three with warm plates, lighter hearts, and a lingering feeling that they weren’t alone in this.

The soft click of the door echoed, and silence filled the room again. The plates sat steaming on the table, their aroma tempting, yet the trio still hesitated for a moment.

Vanshu (whispering, rubbing her arm):

“Mujhe lag raha tha hum bhookhe hi so jaayenge… par dekho, ma’am ko toh pata hi tha jaise sab kuch.”

Akshu (half-smiling, half-sighing):

“Pata hi nahi… unhone sir ko bheja bhi. Agar who khud aati toh hum sach mein khana kha hi nahi paate guilt ke wajah se.”

Khushi stared at the tray, eyes glistening. She pressed her lips together before speaking.

Khushi (softly):

“Ma’am kitna bhi punish karein, daant le, ignore kar le… par unki yeh care na… sabse alag lagti hai. Dil ke andar jaake chubhta bhi hai aur sukoon bhi deta hai.”

For a moment, all three sat quietly, letting the realization sink in.

Vanshu (trying to lighten):

“Haan aur sir ka khauf bhi dekhne ko mila. Wo bhi ma’am se darte h.”

The trio chuckled again, this time more freely. Their pain was still there — red marks stinging on their skin — but the heaviness in their hearts had eased a little.

Finally, Akshu got up limping, picked up the plates, and brought them to the bed.

Akshu (determined):

“Chalo… order toh ma’am ka hai. Plate saaf karni hi padegi.”

The three shared a smile, pulled the plates closer, and began eating slowly — each bite carrying guilt, relief, and the unspoken comfort of knowing they were cared for, even in punishment.

IN THE NIGHT -

The clock ticked past midnight, but sleep was nowhere near. The trio lay sprawled on their beds, their bodies stiff and sore. Every time they shifted even a little, a sharp groan escaped, the sting of Bela’s strikes still burning on their skin.

But more than the pain, it was the weight in their hearts that kept their eyes wide open. Guilt — raw, heavy, and unshakable — refused to let them rest.

Khushi, restless, turned to her side and found Akshu staring blankly at the ceiling. On the other side, Vanshu too lay wide-eyed, clutching her pillow tightly. Their gazes met in the dim light of the night lamp — three pairs of eyes reflecting the same unrest.

Akshu (whispering, voice low):

“Neend hi nahi aa rahi…”

Vanshu (sighing):

“Ma’am jab tak maaf nahi karengi, tab tak neend aayegi bhi kaise…”

Khushi bit her lip, guilt gnawing at her chest. She hesitated for a second before whispering back.

Khushi (with a weak smile):

“Chalo… maafi maang lete hain. Mera apology letter bhi ready hai.”

Her attempt at lightness made the other two smile faintly, though their eyes remained glassy.

Akshu (softly, thoughtful):

“Haan… aur sir ko Thank you bhi bolna chahiye. Aaj unhone humare liye kitna kuch kiya…”

Khushi (nodding, almost ashamed):

“Aur sorry bhi. Sabse pehle unhi ne thane mein humari taraf se maafi maangi thi… ab baari humari hai.”

For a long moment, silence wrapped around them, broken only by the ticking of the clock and their uneven breaths. Then, as if sharing the same thought, Akshu sat up slowly despite the sharp ache in her back. Vanshu followed, wincing as she pushed herself up. Khushi too rose, determination glinting faintly in her tired eyes.

Akshu pulled out some colored papers and pens from her drawer. With trembling hands, she and Vanshu began scribbling, folding, and decorating — a simple sorry card that carried their repentance. Khushi helped them, their chest heavy, lips pressed together in quiet resolve.

When the card was ready, the three of them exchanged a glance. No words were needed. Their swollen eyes, their trembling hands, their aching bodies — everything screamed one silent decision.

They had to say sorry.

Biting back the groans of pain, they stood up, supporting each other as they walked. Every step was slow, heavy, and laced with hurt — but also with courage. Their bodies may have been weak, but their resolve was strong.

Together, they made their way through the quiet, dimly lit corridor toward Bela and Mahir’s room — hearts pounding, guilty yet determined to repent for their mistakes.

[Bela & Mahir’s Room – Midnight]

Bela was half-leaning against Mahir’s shoulder while he scrolled idly through his phone. Her mind, however, was still circling back to the chaos of the day — every strike of her stick, every tear on their faces. She wasn’t at peace, not yet.

Just then, a soft knock broke the silence.

Bela and Mahir exchanged a confused glance.

Mahir (raising a brow):

“Is waqt… kaun ho sakta hai?”

Before Bela could respond, a trembling voice floated from the other side of the door.

Vanshu (hesitant, almost whispering):

“Ma’am… Sir… kya hum andar aa sakte hain?”

Mahir immediately set his phone aside and got up. When he opened the door, his eyes softened at the sight before him — Khushi, Akshu, and Vanshu standing nervously, their posture stiff, their faces pale, eyes lowered.

Khushi (hesitant, guilty):

“Sir… wo… ma’am se milna tha… abhi baat kar sakte hain?”

Mahir glanced at Bela. She gave a small nod, her face unreadable, still carrying that stern silence. With that, Mahir stepped aside, allowing them in, and closing the door behind quietly went back to sit beside Bela on the bed.

The room grew heavy with silence. The girls stood near the center, hands behind their backs, clutching tightly — Akshu and Vanshu holding the handmade sorry card, Khushi gripping her folded apology letter. Their throats tightened, but words refused to come.

Bela studied them for a long second, her sharp eyes unreadable, her voice calm but firm.

Bela (measured tone):

“Kya hua? Kyun aaye ho yahan?”

At that, the trio looked at each other nervously. Then, in unison, they stepped forward and carefully placed the card and letter on the bed in front of Bela and Mahir — their eyes still downcast, hands trembling, breaths uneven.

They didn’t dare speak. Their silence itself was louder than any words.

Bela’s gaze fell on the card, then on the letter, and finally back at the three girls — waiting, nervous, broken, yet holding themselves together.

The room stayed hushed as Bela’s gaze lingered on the items laid before her. Finally, she reached for the folded sheet — Khushi’s apology letter. Opening it, she began to read aloud, her calm voice filling the space.

The words were raw and honest, each line apologising to Radhika ma’am for the disrespect, the tone, the misbehavior — and tucked between the lines was Khushi’s guilt, her regret, her plea for forgiveness.

Mahir, meanwhile, couldn’t help but smile softly. His eyes flicked to the three girls — still standing stiffly, heads bowed — and then back to Bela. His heart warmed at the thought: “Inke liye Bela sirf teacher nahi hai… anchor hai. Uski maafi ke bina neend tak nahi aayi inhe.”

When Bela finished, she folded the letter neatly, placed it back on the table, and finally lifted her gaze to Khushi. For a moment, their eyes met — Bela’s stern, Khushi’s trembling — before Bela gave a small, controlled response:

Bela (short, almost clipped):

“Hmm.”

That one sound was enough to both sting and soothe.

Then her hand went to the other item — the handmade sorry card. She flipped it open, her eyes scanning. To her surprise, she didn’t just see her name, but Mahir’s too. The corners of her lips twitched involuntarily — a tiny crack in her stone façade. But before it could turn into a smile, she pressed her expression back into control.

Without a word, Bela handed the card to Mahir.

Mahir took it, confused. His brows furrowed as if to say, “Mujhe kyun de rahi ho?” But when his eyes dropped to the card, the confusion melted into surprise.

His lips curved upward, warmth spreading across his face as he read the girls’ clumsy handwriting, their doodles, their sincere lines of apology — not just for Bela, but for him too.

Mahir looked up at them, his smile genuine, a little proud, a little touched.

The trio, still with lowered heads, shifted nervously under his gaze.

Mahir’s smile lingered as he read the card, but then his brows lifted in mock confusion. He looked at the trio and asked softly:

Mahir:

“Yeh mera naam kyu likha hai yaha pe?”

The three froze. For a second, none of them dared to speak. Then Akshu, trembling, quickly stepped half-forward, her hands flying up to hold her ears.

Akshu (voice shaky):

“Kyuki sir… hum teeno aapko aur ma’am ko dil se sorry aur thank you kehna chahte the. Aapko itna pareshaan karne ke liye sorry, sir… sorry ma’am. Hume apni galti ka poora ehsaas ho gaya hai. Please maaf kar dijiye. Aur… thank you sir. Aapke shabdon ne hume bohot himmat di thi.”

Her eyes glistened, her voice breaking.

Right beside her, Vanshu mirrored the gesture — ears clutched, guilt on her face.

Vanshu:

“Sir… aapne humari galti ke liye maafi maangi thane mein. Uske liye bhi sorry. Agar aapki presence na hoti na, toh hum principal sir ke saamne apna sach kabhi rakh hi nahi paate. Dar ke maare chup ho jaate. Thank you, sir. Aur sorry ma’am… humari wajah se aap dono bohot disappoint hue. Aaj ke baad hum kuch bhi nahi chhupayenge aapse.”

Finally, Khushi’s throat tightened. She forced herself to speak, her hands trembling as she, too, held her ears.

Khushi:

“Ji sir… ma’am… jo kuch aap dono ne aaj subah se humare liye kiya hai… uske liye sorry aur thank you bohot chhote shabd hain. Aap har jagah hume protect karte rahe… aur humne bina soche-samjhe sirf aapko hurt kiya. Ma’am… aapki chhup rehne ki saza ne mujhe realise karaya ki maine radhika ma’am ke saath kitni badtameezi ki thi. Us pal mein main aapko bhi hurt kar gayi… sorry ma’am. Agar apane nhi bataya hota toh mai apne gusse mai kabhi realise nhi kar pati ki maine limits cross kar di thi.”

Her voice cracked; tears finally slipped down.

Khushi (softly, to Mahir):

“Sir… aap ek guardian ban ke har waqt humare saath khade rahe. Patiently, bina shikayat ke… aur hum bas aapko aur ma’am ko sharminda karte gaye. Dil se… sorry and thank you for everything you have done for us.”

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by muffled sobs.

Then Akshu whispered again, almost like a plea:

Akshu:

“Please maaf kar dijiye…”

Vanshu:

“Ek last chance de dijiye… hum apne aap ko sudhaarne ki puri koshish karenge.”

Khushi (sobbing):

“Please humare dil ka yeh bojh halka kar dijiye… warna hum khud se bhi nazrein nahi mila payenge. Humne aapko sharminda kiya hai.”

Their voices cracked under the weight of their guilt, the three of them standing like little children caught in storm — vulnerable, broken, and yet united.

The silence in the room was heavy with the trio’s apologies. Bela’s stern gaze hadn’t softened yet, but before the weight of guilt could crush them further, Mahir suddenly leaned forward, his tone teasing, light-hearted.

Mahir (grinning):

“Arre arre… sorry aur thank you jaise bade-bade shabd bolne ki koi zaroorat nahi hai. Maine aur tumhari ma’am ne jo bhi kiya, wo humara farz tha. Itne emotional mat ho jao yaar. Ab tum teeno bhi humare ghar ka hissa ho… humne wahi kiya jo sahi tha. Itna guilty mat ho jao. Mere case mein ekdum bindass raho… haan, apni ma’am ka dekh lena bas.”

The trio looked up at him, a mix of awe and embarrassment flickering in their faces. Bela, who had been trying to maintain her stern composure, shot him a glare—but the twitch at the corner of her lips betrayed her.

Mahir chuckled, clearly enjoying her attempt to stay stone-faced. Then, feeling the moment was right, he stood up. His eyes met Bela’s briefly—an unspoken exchange, his way of telling her “ab tum sambhal lo.”

He turned to the girls, his voice softer now, warm like a blessing. He gently patted each of their heads, his eyes filled with father-like affection.

Mahir (gently):

“Galtiyaan sabse hoti hain… aur tum teeno toh abhi bacche hi ho. Important yeh hai ki tumne apni galti accept ki, aur sudhar ki taraf pehla kadam bhi badha liya. Bojh mat rakho dil pe… bas ek lesson lo aur life mein aage badho. Mere best wishes tumhare saath hain. Aur yaad rakhna—main khud hamesha tumhare peeche hoon… ek guardian aur dost banke.”

He ended with a playful wink. The trio couldn’t help but smile through their tears, feeling lighter—blessed and protected at the same time.

Mahir (grinning):

“Chalo… ab apni ma’am ko mana lo aaram se wo zyada scary hai. Main chala.”

Before Bela could glare at him again, he quickly slipped out of the room with a mischievous laugh, leaving the trio with Bela.

Mahir’s laughter still lingered faintly in the air when the room fell silent again. Bela’s gaze, sharp yet unreadable, returned to the trio. For a long moment she just sat there, arms folded, eyes fixed on them — weighing, observing, letting the silence stretch enough for their nervousness to grow.

Finally, she spoke in her steady, commanding tone.

Bela:

“Yaha aao… Bed par baitho.”

The three froze for a second, their eyes darting toward each other in hesitation. The fear was still lodged deep — their ears ached from punishment, their hearts heavier from guilt. But slowly, with small uncertain steps, they moved forward and lowered themselves onto the edge of the bed.

Bela’s eyes didn’t soften, but they didn’t harden either. She simply watched them settle, her gaze lingering long enough to notice the way their shoulders drooped, how their fingers fidgeted nervously, and the quiet pain still etched on their faces.

But she said nothing about it.

She let the silence sit between them again, her authority pressing down, yet her eyes betrayed that faint, unspoken awareness — she had seen their hurt, she had measured it.

Bela’s eyes shifted from the trio to Akshu, who was nervously fidgeting with her own fingers in her lap. For a moment, Bela simply observed her, the sharpness in her gaze now softening.

Bela (gently):

“Akshu… look at me.”

Akshu froze, stunned. Hearing Bela call her by this name instead of the usual stern “Akshika” when in anger, felt like a small relief. Slowly, hesitantly, she lifted her eyes to meet Bela’s.

Bela:

“Tumhe pata h na, mujhe itna gussa kyu aaya tha?”

Akshu gave a small nod.

Bela:

“Bolo phir. Why do you think you deserved that punishment?”

Akshu’s throat went dry, but she forced the words out, voice breaking in guilt.

Akshu:

“Ma… ma’am, kyuki maine aapse baat chupayi. Ek hafte tak un sab galat cheezon ko bardasht karti rahi jo mujhe kabhi nahi karna chahiye tha. Sirf apne aap ko prove karne ke liye unki ragging seh li… fir gusse mein react kar diya. Aapke saamne gaali tak de di…” (her voice dropped, ashamed) “…Rohit ko maara bina soche ki uske consequences kya ho sakte hain. Apne gusse pe control nahi kiya… aur na hi apne liye stand liya.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she choked on her words.

For the first time that day, Bela’s lips curved into a faint smile. Without a second thought, she reached forward, wiping Akshu’s tears with her thumb. Akshu’s eyes widened — shocked at this side of Bela she had never imagined. Bela cupped her face, her voice now filled with warmth.

Bela (softly, with love):

“Very good… yahi chahti thi main. Ki tum apni galti samjho.”

(she paused, holding Akshu’s gaze)

“Galti karna badi baat nahi hoti, beta. Lekin usse seekhna aur accept karna bohot badi baat hai. Tumne jo saha uski zaroorat hi nahi thi, agar tumne sahi waqt pe baat share ki hoti. Tum jaisi ho na… ekdum perfect ho. Tumhe duniya ko prove karne ki zaroorat nahi hai ki tum kya kar sakti ho.”

Her tone grew firm, but not harsh — it carried a weight of experience.

Bela:

“Yeh sirf in ladkon ki baat nahi thi. Zindagi mein tumhe aur bhi log milenge jo tumhe har kadam pe test karenge, tumhari capability pe sawal uthayenge. Agar tum apna waqt sabko prove karne mein barbaad kar dogi, toh apne liye kab jee paogi? Duniya itni acchi nahi hai, beta… sab log tumhara bhala chahe, yeh kabhi nahi hoga. Isiliye galat ke khilaf bolna aur apne liye stand lena zaroori hai.”

Akshu’s tears kept falling, but her chest felt lighter as Bela’s words sank in.

Bela (with quiet pride):

“Mujhe hamesha tumhari courage pasand aayi hai. Wo himmat mujhe kahi na kahi apni yaad dilati hai. Tumhare andar ek leader hai — chaahe pranks plan karne ho ya team ko sambhalna, tum sabko apne saath le kar chalti ho. Us quality ko aise faltoo cheezon mein uljha ke waste mat karo. Tumhare paas creativity hai, dimaag hai — use sahi jagah channelise karo. Mere gusse ka nishana tum nahi thi, Akshu. Wo tumhari bhalai ke liye tha. Apne skills ko apni soch ko sahi disha do.. Wo karo jo tumhe khushi deta h.. Na ki wo jo dusre tumse karwana chahte h.. Rahi baat gusse ki.. Baccha yeh agar sahi jagah se sahi tarike se nikala jaaye na toh galat nhi h.. Mai hurt is liye thi kyuki tumne wo kaam kiya tha jo maine tumse expect nhi kiya tha.. Agar tum sahi ho toh bolo.. Raise your voice, but in a way that can bring justice to you.”

Akshu just stared at her, completely stunned. For the first time, she wasn’t seeing “the strict Ma’am” — she was seeing Bela’s heart.

And she couldn’t believe it.

Akshu (thought, dazed):

“Yeh… ma’am hai? Inka aisa side bhi h aaj pata chala..”

Khushi and Vanshu sat frozen, eyes wide. Shocked would be an understatement. To hear Bela — their strict, unbending ma’am — speak so gently, so lovingly to Akshu… it felt almost unreal. Yet somewhere deep down, they felt a wave of relief. She was still their ma’am — both stone and heart.

Then Bela’s gaze shifted toward Vanshu.

Vanshu’s breath hitched. She knew it was her turn now. Her hands trembled, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet those piercing eyes. But Bela reached forward, laying her hand gently over hers.

Bela (softly):

“Vanshu… dekho meri taraf.”

Vanshu hesitated, tears already threatening, but Bela’s voice only grew gentler.

Bela:

“Guilty feel karna acchi baat hai — galti ka ehsaas hone ke liye. Lekin itna bhi nahi ki tum mujhse nazrein na mila sako. Main tumhari ma’am hoon… aur tumhari koi galti itni badi kabhi nahi ho sakti ki tum mujhe face hi na kar sako.”

Slowly, Vanshu lifted her eyes. The moment their gazes met, the dam broke — tears streamed down her face. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed these words.

Bela wiped her tears away with infinite patience, then tucked a stray strand of hair back from Vanshu’s forehead.

Bela (gently):

“Samajh aayi apni galti?”

Vanshu (through sobs):

“Ha… ha ma’am. Sorry… mujhe aapse share kar dena chahiye tha. Wo notes, wo messages… bas dar gayi thi ki kahi aap gussa na ho jaaye…”

Bela’s lips curved into a faint smile. She gave a light tap on Vanshu’s head.

Bela:

“Pagal ladki… jab tumne kuch galat kiya hi nahi tha toh main gussa kyun hoti? Galti yeh thi ki tumne baat chupayi. Mujhe bhi nahi bataya thik h chalo, par in dono ko bhi nahi. Kyu? Tum teeno toh sabse zyada bharosa karte ho na ek doosre pe? Phir apni safety pe jab baat aayi toh chhupayi kyun? Tumhe pata h na kuch bhi galat ho sakta tha.”

Her tone deepened, firm but full of care.

Bela:

“Beta… agar sahi waqt pe in dono ne woh sab nahi dekha hota… aur usne kuch galat kar diya hota… toh humare paas kya bachta? Sirf regret. Aur wo regret insaan ko lifetime sukoon se jeene nahi deta. Darna nahi chahiye. Agar duniya se dar ke baith jaogi na… toh yeh aur darayegi tumhe. Log samajh jaate hain kaun dabane layak hai, aur phir aur faayda uthate hain. Lekin jab tum khud ke andar se himmat dikhati ho na… toh wahi duniya ruk jaati hai.”

Vanshu’s shoulders trembled. Bela squeezed her hand gently, steadying her.

Bela (encouraging):

“Tumhare paas sincerity hai, sacchai hai, mehnat hai… aur tumhari masoomiyat hi tumhari taakat hai. Lekin yeh taakat tabhi safal hogi jab tum dar ke nahi, himmat se saamna karogi. Chahe life ki problems ho, exams ho, ya koi bhi mushkil — face it with courage. Agar tumne pehle hi woh messages mujhe dikhaye hote, aur humne action le liya hota, toh us ladke ki himmat hi nahi hoti tumhe sabke saamne chhedne ki. Uska muh wahi band ho jaata. Lekin usne dekha tum chup ho… toh socha tum dar gayi ho. Aur usne maza lena shuru kar diya. Isliye… sahi waqt pe bolna bhi ek himmat hoti hai, beta.”

Her voice softened again, filled with pride.

Bela:

“Samjhi? Dar ke nahi… himmat se saamna karna. Aur jab bhi lage tumhe darr lag raha hai, bas yaad rakhna — you are stronger than you think you are.”

Vanshu nodded, tears still slipping but her heart lighter than before.

Vanshu (with determination):

“Ji ma’am. Mai samajh gayi.. Ab kabhi aisa nahi hoga. Main puri koshish karungi… aur aapki baat follow karungi.”

Bela gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, her eyes shining with belief.

Vanshu wiped her face, still sniffling, but relief softened her features now. Akshu gave her a small, reassuring nudge.

But Khushi… Khushi sat stiff, her nails digging into her palms. Her heart pounded, breath shallow. Because she knew — it was her turn.

Bela’s gaze shifted to her. Calm, unreadable. Not angry, not smiling. Just… steady. And that was enough to make Khushi’s throat close.

Bela (softly, yet firmly):

“Khushi…”

Just hearing her name in that tone broke something inside her. Her eyes welled up instantly. She looked up for a second, then down again, unable to hold that gaze.

Khushi (voice trembling):

“Sorry ma’am… Mujhme himmat hi nahi hai aapko face karne ki. Please… bas mujhe maaf kar dijiye. Maine aapke saath bhi badtameezi ki… aapki baat kaat ke. Mujhe apne aap pe sharam aa rahi hai. Mujhe nahi pata is galti ko kaise theek kiya jaa sakta hai…”

Tears slipped down her cheeks. Bela reached out and gently wiped them away, her voice steady but laced with honesty.

Bela:

“Chup, pehle. Haan, sach hai — sabse zyada disappointed main tumse thi. Kyunki jis student ki aankhon mein maine pehle din se hi apne liye izzat dekhi thi… maine kabhi socha bhi nahi tha ki wo aise behave karegi.”

Khushi’s breath hitched. She still couldn’t meet her ma’am’s eyes.

Bela (a faint smile tugging at her lips as memories returned):

“Yaad hai tumhe, pehla din? Admission ke liye aayi thi. Uniform mili bhi nahi thi, lekin maine tumhe uske bina class mein baitha diya tha. Books wagera kuch nhi the.. Thaki hui thi tum.. Phir class mein sone ke liye daanta, board pe bulaya, double homework diya… sirf isliye kyunki mujhe dekhna tha tum kis had tak patience rakh ke meri baatein follow karti ho. Mai sirf ek teacher thi tumhare liye us waqt.. Phir bhi tum ne wo sab kiya jo shayad us din tum nhi karna chahti thi.. Aur aaj bhi tumne kiya.. Jab aadhe ghante tak maine tumse baat nhi ki.. Jo galti tum maan’ne ko taiyaar nhi thi wo tumne us aadhe ghante mai samajh li..aur accept bhi ki. Yahi toh pehle step tha us galti ko theek karne ka.. Jis apology letter ke liye tumne mujhe mana kar diya tha office wahi abhi tumne khud likha h.. ”

Khushi nodded faintly.

Bela (softly):

“Tumne sab kiya. Bina argue kiye, bina back answer kiye. Us din mujhe samajh aa gaya tha — yeh sab normal nahi hai. Tumhari respect dil se aati hai, chahe saamne koi bhi ho. Isi wajah se mujhe tumse sabse zyada ummeed thi.”

Her voice dipped, gentle but firm.

Bela:

“Main jaanti hoon, Radhika ma’am ke words ne tumhe trigger kiya. Unhone mere baare mein bola, tumhare parents ke baare mein bhi bola. Par ek baat batao beta — tum apne parents ki izzat karti ho na?”

Khushi nodded quickly, eyes brimming.

Bela:

“Merī?”

Another nod, shakier this time.

Bela:

“Bas. Toh phir kya farq padta hai kaun kya bol raha hai? Tumhare parents jaante h ki tum mehnat karti ho.. Mai jaanti hoon phir baaki duniya se kya matlab h.. Jaise tum chahogi na log waise nhi chalenge.. Duniya ka kaam h bolna.. Tumhe debate practice ke liye time nahi mil raha tha… agar mujhe bataya hota, main baat karti unse. Par tumne bhi wahi kiya jo in dono ne kiya — kuch share hi nahi kiya. Aur inhe bhi nahi bataya, yeh soch ke ki pareshaan ho jaayenge.”

Her tone softened, a hint of affection breaking through.

Bela:

“Beta… jisse hum pyaar karte hain, uske liye pareshaan hona haq hota hai humara.”

Khushi’s lips trembled; her chest felt heavy.

Bela (calmer, but firm):

“Tumhara gussa bohot impactful hai, Khushi. Us din maine dekha jab tumne Aashi ko daanta tha. Usne chup chaap suna. Yeh mere liye bhi surprise tha. Kyuki wo aise hi sabki baat nhi sunti h.. Par tumhari suni usne…. Phir kyu galat react karke uss gusse ko galat direction mai leke Jaa rahi ho..Ek baat yaad rakhana duniya har waqt bas mauka dhoondhti hai tumhari weakness pakadne ka. Agar tum baar-baar trigger hoke patience kho dogi, toh tum khud ke hi nazar mein galat ho jaogi. Aur jab tak samajh aayega… tab tak der ho chuki hogi.”

Khushi swallowed hard, tears spilling faster.

Bela (leaning closer, voice heavy with meaning):

“Vanshu ke liye tum itni protective ho gayi ki Rohit ko itna maar diya… aur uska guilt tumhe baad mein hua, haina?”

Khushi nodded, ashamed.

Bela:

“Beta… kabhi-kabhi bade bhi aisi baatein keh dete hain jo dil ko choobti hain, trigger karti hain. Lekin iska matlab yeh nahi hota ki tum unse badtameezi karo. Ek maryada hoti hai. Apni baat rakhna tumhara haq hai… par wo line cross na ho, yeh zaroori hai. Kyunki jab tum wo line cross karti ho… toh sirf saamne wale ki nahi, apni bhi izzat gawa baithi ho.”

Her last words hung in the air, firm yet protective, leaving Khushi trembling — but lighter, as if a heavy truth had just been placed gently into her hands.

Khushi finally musters courage, her voice low, careful—

Khushi (hesitant, almost whispering):

“…aapne humein maaf kar diya?”

For a fleeting second, Bela’s eyes soften. But just as quickly, her face hardens again, the same unshakable authority snapping back in place.

Bela (stern, clipped tone):

“Maaf? Nahi. Abhi school ki punishment batani baaki hai.”

The trio freeze, exchanging wide-eyed glances.

Akshu (with fake relief, dramatic sigh):

“Haash… Ma’am wapas aa gayi. Main toh soch rahi thi yeh kaun hai… Ma’am ki koi judwa toh nahi aa gayi thi?”

Vanshu (nodding, whispering sideways):

“Haan, mujhe bhi vishwas nahi ho raha tha. Yeh Ma’am achanak itni pyaari kaise ho gayi? Ab thik hai… ab shaanti ki neend aayegi.”

Bela’s glare sharpens like a sword cutting the air. Both Vanshu and Akshu instantly clamp their lips shut, sitting straight like statues.

Bela (curt, in command):

“Akshika.”

Akshu gulps, muttering under her breath—just loud enough for Vanshu and Khushi to hear.

Akshu (muttering, mock-dramatic):

“Lo aa gayi ‘Akshika’ pe… pyaar ka teaser khatam. Kalpanik duniya se nikalke vaastavikta mein aajaye. Humara sapna officially toot chuka hai… Welcome back to reality. Ab toh samajh aa gaya h acche se “Akshika” sunna hi danger h ma’am ke muh se…”

Vanshu presses her lips, trying hard not to burst out laughing. Khushi lowers her head to hide her tiny smile.

Bela’s sharp eyes flick between them. She hasn’t missed a thing.

Bela (arching a brow):

“Kuch kaha tumne, Akshika?”

Akshu freezes, shaking her head like an innocent child caught red-handed.

Akshu (quickly):

“N-nahi Ma’am… kuch bhi toh nahi…”

Bela’s lips twitch almost imperceptibly—but she schools her expression back into a mask of sternness.

Her eyes scanned them one by one, then she leaned forward, voice cold and unyielding.

Bela: “Nautanki aur rona-dhona khatam. Ab dhyaan se suno. Akshika — tumhari punishment yeh hai ki Monday se mere period ke dauran tum class ke bahar rahogi. Bohot shauk hai na tumhe sabko prove karne ka, gussa dikhane ka? Ab dekhti hoon main — jab tak main nahi kahungi, you will not be allowed to enter the class.”

Akshu (protesting): “Ma’am yeh—”

Bela (cutting her off): “Not a word. It’s my order.”

She turned to Vanshu, voice still hard.

Bela: “Vanshika — tumhe phone se koi matlab nahi reh gaya tha, isliye messages ignore kiye aur phone switch off rehta raha. Toh from Monday tumhara phone mere paas rahega. Jab tak main chahungi.”

Vanshu (uneasy): “Ma’am… yeh thoda zyada nahi ho gaya?”

Bela raised an eyebrow; the look shut her up instantly.

Finally Bela looked at Khushi, the hardest tone reserved for her.

Bela: “Aur Khushi — tumne Radhika ma’am ke saamne bohot zubaan chala li. Tumhari punishment yeh hogi ki jab tak main chahungi, tum unke paas extra maths ke classes logi.”

Khushi (desperate, folding her hands): “Ma’am nahi please. Main aapke aage haath jhodti hoon — stick tod dijiye mere upar par yeh nahi. Main phir se koi limit cross nahi karna chahti. Please ma’am, request hai.”

Bela (firm): “Ek shabd nahi. This is my final decision. Aur itna kuch kehne-sun ne ke baad bhi tumhe lagta hai wo limit phir cross hogi? Don’t worry — yeh extra classes staff room mein hongi, under my nose. I will be present there. So dare you.”

They exchanged looks — stunned, sulking, defeated.

Akshu (muttering): “See? Proved — yeh ma’am hi hai. Dreamworld se nikal ke reality mein aa gaye. Meri izzat gayi.”

Vanshu (grimacing): “Mera phone… gone.”

Khushi (under her breath): “Maths phir se… aur scale bhi…”

Bela folded her arms, expression unreadable, and waited until the words sank in. Then, with the same controlled authority she always wore, she dismissed them.

Bela: “Theek hai. Ab room mai jao. Kal se timetable clear rahega — aur jo bhi rules maine bataye hain, who follow karna. No more secrets, no more hiding.”

They rose slowly, each carrying their punishment in silence — bruised bodies, heavier hearts, but a small, reluctant understanding beginning to form beneath it all.

Akshu and Vanshu exchanged a look, then slowly pushed themselves up from the bed, wincing and groaning from the soreness still clinging to their bodies.

Akshu (softly): “Khushi… chal na. Kya hua?”

Khushi didn’t move, her eyes still lowered, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

Khushi (absently): “Hm…”

That tiny pause was enough for Bela to catch. Her sharp eyes narrowed, tone crisp.

Bela: “Kya hua, Khushi? Ab kya soch rahi ho?”

Khushi hesitated, then shook her head lightly.

Khushi (quiet, almost to herself): “Nahi ma’am… bas… aapki punishment galat nahi hai shayad. Kyunki ab Monday se mere liye toh koi practice nahi hai. Isse accha maths kar lungi… Radhika ma’am ke saamne toh shayad marks hi improve ho jaaye. Aise hi sabko hurt kar diya h maine bohot.”

Bela froze for a second, words forming on her lips — but before she could respond, the girls had already begun to move. Akshu tugged at Khushi’s hand, Vanshu gave her a tiny nudge, and the trio slipped out of the room together.

Bela remained seated, her expression unreadable, but her eyes softened ever so slightly as the door closed behind them.

The girls reached their own room, still whispering, still stealing glances at each other — all three carrying punishments, all three still aching… but what they had witnessed tonight had shifted something inside them.

That moment when Bela’s stone face had cracked into gentleness, when her voice had carried care instead of only command — it lingered.

Even as their bodies complained, even as they lay down on their beds, their hearts felt strangely lighter. And with that shock, that disbelief that Bela could be this soft sometimes, they finally allowed their heavy eyes to close.

For the first time in days, sleep came without guilt.

***

BELA’S POV -

As the door clicked shut behind the girls, silence wrapped the room. Bela leaned back slightly, her hand still resting on the bed where Khushi had sat moments ago. Khushi’s words replayed in her head — “Isse accha maths kar lungi… marks hi improve ho jaaye.”

Bela’s chest tightened. It wasn’t just a line. It was a silent confession — Khushi hadn’t argued, hadn’t begged, hadn’t tried to escape. She had accepted the punishment, almost too easily, like she was surrendering something precious.

And Bela knew exactly what that something was.

She closed her eyes briefly, her hands tightening in her lap. “ Punishment tum teeno ko galti ka ehsaas karane ke liye tha.. Lekin yeh kya tha? Matlab wo abhi bhi us debate ke baare mai soch rahi thi… wo dil se participate karna chahti thi lekin ab selection cancel ho gaya h.. Aur yeh baat uske mann se nhi nikal rahi.. Mujhe baat karni hogi Principal sir is baare mai ek baar. Ek competition is tarah uska morale down nhi kar sakta.. Mujhe karna hi padega kuch na kuch.. ”

She exhaled slowly, pressing her fingers to her temple. This softness — it had surprised even her. The way she had wiped Vanshu’s tears, the way her voice had turned calm with Akshu, the way her anger had melted at Khushi’s broken apology.

“Mujhe itna… pighalna nahi chahiye tha shayad.” Her brows furrowed. “Discipline ke bina kahi yeh bigad na jaaye bas. Aur maine aaj… unke saamne apna ek alag hi chehra dikha diya. Pata nahi samajh paayenge ya nahi.”

But then again — their faces flashed before her. Vanshu, trembling yet listening with such sincerity. Akshu, biting back her tears yet nodding like she had absorbed every word. And Khushi — stubborn, impulsive Khushi — crumbling into guilt and yet finding honesty enough to admit her mistake.

“In teeno mai ek alag si masoomiyat hai… par saath hi itni taakat bhi. Shayad isi liye meri nazar unpe aur bhi zyada tik jaati hai.”

Her stern mask returned instinctively, even though no one was watching. “Nahi Bela… tu teacher hai. Ek limit hai jahan tak softness dikhani chahiye. Zyada pyaar, zyada nazdeekiyan… yehi toh line cross kar jaata hai. Aur fir discipline khatam.”

Yet, deep down, a quieter voice whispered inside her heart —

“Par agar aaj maine unhe thoda pyaar dikhaya… toh galat kya tha? Unki aankhon mai jo darr tha wo halka ho gaya, unke dil mai jo guilt tha wo bhi kam ho gaya. Shayad kabhi-kabhi… zaroori hai unhe samjhana ki ma’am sirf dantne ke liye nahi hoti. Kabhi kabhi… ma’am bhi maa jaise ho sakti hai.”

Bela closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. That thought scared her, but it also warmed her in a way she didn’t want to admit.

“Bas… kal se fir wahi. Wahi Bela. Wahi strict ma’am. Aur kuch nahi.”

But somewhere in the corner of her heart, she already knew — today had changed something.

***

NEXT MORNING –

[Living Room – Morning]

The sunlight filtered lazily through the curtains, spreading a golden glow across the room. Unlike weekdays, there was no rush, no chaos, no loud instructions echoing from Bela. The house felt calm, almost magical.

At the dining table, Bela sat with a pile of notebooks, her pen moving neatly across pages, glasses slipping down her nose. On the couch, Mahir was stretched out comfortably, lost in his favorite series, one hand casually propped under his head.

The calm was interrupted only by the soft padding of tiny feet. Team Aashvi emerged, still in their matching printed T-shirts and shorts, yawning like three sleepy kittens. Their hair was messy, their eyes half-shut, and they carried the innocence of unbroken dreams on their faces.

Aashi, murmuring “Mumma…” in her sleep-fogged voice, walked straight to Bela, arms lifted. Bela’s stern face instantly melted. She scooped Aashi up without hesitation, kissing her temple and rubbing her back gently.

Bela (softly, smiling):

“Arre meri gudiya… aaj uthna nahi kya?”

Aashi, still half-asleep, shook her head in a stubborn little no, burying her face in Bela’s shoulder. Bela chuckled, kissing her again, holding her close as if nothing else mattered.

Meanwhile, Vanu waddled over to the couch. Without a word, she curled up on Mahir’s lap, hugging his side like it was her favorite pillow. Mahir’s heart melted instantly. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, leaning down to whisper something only she could hear — words of love, of comfort, of a bond only they shared. Vanu smiled faintly in her sleep.

Kiku, the whirl of the trio, appeared last, clutching her teddy tightly. She didn’t say a word, just climbed up beside Bela and sat quietly, resting her little head against Bela’s stomach. Within seconds, her breathing slowed, slipping back into peaceful sleep, comforted by the warmth of her mumma’s presence.

Mahir glanced over, watching Bela with their two little girls clinging to her, and his heart swelled. Bela, still pretending to focus on her notebooks, couldn’t hide the softness in her eyes as she alternated between patting Aashi’s back and stroking Kiku’s hair.

The sight was enough to freeze the moment in time — a rare morning of pure calm, of unspoken love, where even the walls of the house seemed to breathe slower.

---

[Team Unstoppable’s Room – Morning]

The sunlight sneaked past the curtains, landing directly on Akshu’s face. She scrunched her nose, turned to the side with a groggy murmur… and the next second —

THUD!

Akshu crashed onto the floor, clutching her side and yelping,

Akshu: “Ahhh! Maaa!!”

Her shout jolted Khushi upright as if someone had set off an alarm.

Khushi (panicked): “Kya hua? Kya hua? Kaun aa gaya??”

On the other bed, Vanshu groaned, buried deeper into her pillow, voice muffled.

Vanshu: “Kya yaar… subah subah kyu chilla rahi ho? Sone do mujhe… puri body dard kar raha h… mai aaj yaha se hilne bhi nhi wali…”

Meanwhile, Akshu was still writhing on the floor dramatically.

Akshu: “Arre tum dono ko apni padi hai! Aahhh… dekho kaise gir gayi main… kal ki maar se waise hi ek ek haddi baj rahi thi, upar se yeh… ab mujhe uthane ke liye tum dono ko uthna hi padega!”

Khushi, already rubbing her sore shoulders, sighed like a warrior ready for sacrifice. She stood slowly, pain written on her face, and extended a hand to Akshu.

Khushi: “Chal, uth jaa… warna sach mai stretcher bulana padega…”

But the moment Akshu grabbed her hand, she yanked too hard, and Khushi toppled over beside her with another loud “AAHHH!”

Khushi (furious, sitting on the floor now): “Pagal ladki! Apne aapko giraana kaafi nahi tha kya… ab mujhe bhi kheench liya! Yeh toh seedha hospital ka case ban raha hai… Vanshu! Uth ja yaar aur help kar warna hum dono ka postmortem karna padega yahi pe!”

Vanshu lazily lifted her pillow a little, one eye peeking out at the chaos.

Vanshu (deadpan): “Nahi boss… main is jaal mai nahi fasne wali. Tum dono milke mujhe bhi kheench ke gira doge. Main toh yahi safe hoon… aaj bed se uthna bhi gunaah hai.”

She dropped the pillow back, mumbling,

Vanshu: “Jo marzi karo… main toh yahi so rahi hoon…”

Meanwhile, on the floor, Akshu and Khushi just glared at each other in pain, both holding their backs, muttering at the same time:

Akshu: “Sab teri wajah se hua!”

Khushi: “Nahi teri wajah se!”

And thus began their Sunday morning “tragicomedy.”

Khushi and Akshu clung to each other, carefully inching their way to sit on the bed, groaning with every movement. Akshu gingerly lifted her full pant and let out a dramatic groan:

Akshu: “Yaar… yeh toh pura laal ho gaya hai… aise haalat mai neeche kaise jaayenge? Izzat ka kachra ho jayega!”

Vanshu, hearing this, finally got up to inspect herself.

Vanshu: “Sahi mai… maar maar ke ma’am ne pura red-blue bana diya… Yeh dekho, haath mein bhi kitna hai!”

Khushi: “Main check hi nahi karungi… ek kadam bhi chalte hi aisa lag raha hai mai toot ke gir jaungi. Last wala strike ma’am ne kitna zor se maara tha… Kaunsi kali maa ghusa gayi thi unke andar… Ouch!”

She clutched her leg and collapsed back onto the bed.

Akshu: “Neeche wo teeno bacche bhi honge… aur itni garmi mai full kapde pehen ke ghoomna padega… Bhakk!”

Khushi: “Koi option bhi nahi hai… chalo fresh hoke neeche chalte hain. Par nahayenge kaise… poori body mai 440 volt ka current lag raha hai!”

Akshu: “Nahana skip hai aaj… Mai aur torture nahi bardasht kar sakti.”

Vanshu: “Same… maine toh pehle hi bola tha, aaj bed se uthungi nahi.”

Khushi (gritting her teeth, trying to sound motivational): “Ma’am ko pata chala na, wapas live telecast ho jayega stick ka… Aur itni garmi mein bina nahaye survive kaise karenge… Aaj Sunday hai, shampoo day… Chalo chalo, himmat karo jawano! How’s the josh.. ”

Akshu : “Yaha Jaan nhi bachi h, yeh josh ki baat kar rahi h.. Mujhe nhi nahanaaaaa..

Vanshu: “mann mera bhi nhi lekin chal le beta warna sahi mai repeat telecast ho gaya toh pakka hospital mai milenge..”

With that, Khushi grabbed her towel and led the way to the washroom, the other two following reluctantly, groaning and carefully avoiding every painful movement.

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To be continued..