So let’s begin,

(PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE - NEXT MORNING)

The next morning, while Khushi, Akshu, and Vanshu were attending their classes in 9B, Bela walked into the Principal’s office. Radhika Ma’am was already present there, reviewing some files.

Bela stepped forward respectfully, placing an envelope on the Principal’s desk.

Bela (formally):

“Sir, as you instructed, here is the written apology from Khushi. She has acknowledged her mistake, and since the incident involved Ms. Radhika, she has agreed to attend additional Mathematics classes under her guidance. I will personally supervise those sessions in the staff room to ensure there are no further issues.”

The Principal unfolded the letter and read it carefully. After a moment, he gave a slight nod, visibly convinced by Bela’s assurance.

Principal:

“Very well, Bela Ma’am. That seems fair. I will allow this arrangement.”

Bela exhaled softly in relief, then after a brief hesitation, spoke again with quiet determination.

Bela:

“Sir, I have one more request. Khushi was extremely eager to participate in the debate competition. Unfortunately, due to the recent situation, she could not attend the practice sessions. Now, with only two days remaining, I understand the challenge, but I humbly request you to give her a chance. She has remarkable potential and I am confident she will not disappoint the school.”

The Principal’s expression grew thoughtful, but his tone was firm.

Principal:

“Bela Ma’am, I understand your concern, but you also know the school rules. Another student has already been selected, and with only two days left, it would be unfair to replace her without adequate preparation. This is not just a regular competition — the winners will be awarded with trophies and a cash prize of ₹10,000. The school’s reputation is at stake, and we cannot take such risks.”

Bela clasped her hands together, her voice soft but earnest.

Bela:

“Sir, I completely understand your hesitation. But I also know Khushi’s capability. She is a quick learner, and her confidence in expressing her thoughts is far beyond her age. If given even a day, she will prove herself worthy of representing the school. Please don’t let one mistake overshadow her talent.”

Radhika Ma’am, who had been listening silently, glanced at the Principal but chose not to intervene yet. The Principal leaned back in his chair, folding his hands, his expression thoughtful but unmoved.

Principal (firmly):

“Bela Ma’am, I appreciate your conviction, and I don’t doubt Khushi’s abilities. But this is not about individual talent — it’s about discipline, procedure, and fairness. The student already chosen has gone through the proper selection process. Allowing Khushi now would mean setting aside the rules, and tomorrow every parent and teacher will question the fairness of our system. I cannot do that.”

Bela opened her mouth again, determined to push a little further.

Bela (quietly, almost pleading):

“Sir… just one opportunity. If she fails to meet expectations in the next rehearsal, I will personally withdraw her name. But please, do not deny her without testing her once. Sometimes a single chance can change a child’s confidence for life.”

The Principal’s gaze softened slightly, but his decision remained unchanged.

Principal:

“I respect your dedication, Bela Ma’am, but my answer stays the same for now. The rules are made for everyone. I’m afraid Khushi will have to wait for another opportunity. Let her focus on learning from this experience.”

Silence lingered in the room for a moment. Bela’s shoulders dropped slightly, but she gave a composed nod, masking the disappointment pressing at her chest.

Bela (softly):

“Understood, Sir. Thank you for your time.”

She gathered the letter back into the file and turned to leave, though the quiet determination in her eyes made it clear she had not given up yet.

“Mujhe kisi bhi haalat mai sir ko convince karna hi padega."

- -

CLASS - 9B

The bell rang, and murmurs rippled across Class 9B as Bela Ma’am stepped inside. Her face was composed, her posture sharp, the same aura of discipline that always commanded attention. The chatter instantly died.

But before Bela could even speak, Akshika — her jaw clenched, eyes burning with unspoken emotion — pushed back her chair and rose. Not a word escaped her lips. Without glancing at anyone, she quietly picked up her notebook and walked out of the classroom.

The entire class froze, stunned. A few students exchanged confused looks, whispers starting to rise. Why did Akshika leave? Was this allowed? Had something happened?

Bela’s eyes briefly followed Akshika, but her expression betrayed nothing. She simply adjusted her dupatta and placed her books on the desk.

Only two pairs of eyes in the room — Khushi’s and Vanshu’s — remained calm. They understood. They had expected this. Their punishment was sealed the moment Bela had decided it, and Akshu, as stubborn as she was, would never bend in public. It had struck her pride, her ego, her need to be seen as strong in front of everyone. But no matter what, she couldn’t — wouldn’t — disobey Bela Ma’am.

Khushi glanced at Vanshu, who lowered her eyes with a sigh. They both knew how much it must have hurt Akshu inside to walk out like that, yet her silence was proof of the strange bond they all shared with Bela.

Bela, however, remained impassive. She tapped the desk lightly with her chalk and addressed the class in her usual firm tone, as though nothing unusual had happened.

Bela (coolly):

“Open your books. Page 84.”

The class obeyed at once, but the atmosphere was heavy, curiosity bubbling beneath their quiet compliance. Only Khushi and Vanshu kept their heads down, the faintest flicker of worry shadowing their faces.

The corridor was silent, save for the faint hum of other classes in session. Akshika stood stiffly just outside the door, back pressed against the wall. Her fists were curled tight around her notebook, nails digging into the cover.

Her chest rose and fell with sharp breaths, and for once, there was no smirk, no retort, no bravado. Just the quiet sting of humiliation.

Akshika (muttering under her breath):

“Sabke saamne… bina ek shabd bole… bahar aana pada mujhe.Ma’am… aapne meri izzat pe hi vaar kar diya. Jitna socha tha usse kahi zyada muskil h yeh..”

Her jaw trembled for a second, but she bit it down hard, refusing to let even a tear slip. Her ego screamed at her to storm off, to show defiance. Yet something stronger kept her rooted there — that invisible leash Bela had tied around her heart.

Akshika (after a pause, voice softer):

“Par… main aapki baat ka ullanghan bhi toh nahi kar sakti. Aapne kaha punishment h… toh h. Chahe dil tod de… par baat nahi taal sakti.”

She shut her eyes tight, trying to steady herself. Memories from the night before flashed in her mind — Bela’s stern punishments, but also her hidden care, the way she had eventually sent them to rest. That contradiction, that strange mix of discipline and protection, bound her in ways she couldn’t explain.

Her pride was wounded, yes. But her respect for Bela was deeper than her own ego.

So she stood there, silent and obedient, letting the punishment burn through her like fire.

AFTER THE CLASS –

The bell for the short break rang faintly in the background, and the corridor filled with chatter as students moved around. Akshika remained exactly where Bela had ordered her — outside the class, back straight against the wall.

Her head was held high, but her clenched jaw and tight fists betrayed the storm raging inside her. A group of students from another section passed by, whispering and giggling.

Student 1 (mocking):

“Arre, yeh toh 9B ki leader hai na? Dekho, punishment mein khadi hai.”

Student 2 (snickering):

“Lagta hai apna ghamand nikal gaya. Hitler Ma’am ne uski hawa tight kar di.”

Akshika’s face flushed crimson, but she didn’t flinch. Her pride screamed at her to snap back, to shut them up. But her punishment wasn’t over. Her lips pressed into a hard line as she muttered under her breath:

Akshika (whispering to herself):

“ Nhi akshu gussa nhi.. Bas kuch din ki baat h bardasht kar le… Ma’am ne kaha hai toh khud pe bhi kabu rakhna hoga.”

Just then, the classroom door opened. Bela stepped out, her expression unreadable as always. But her sharp eyes instantly softened at the sight before her. She didn’t miss the stiffness in Akshika’s posture, the slight tremble of her hand, or the way her eyes burned with unshed anger and humiliation.

For a moment, Bela just looked at her — silently, steadily. Akshika’s gaze flickered up, meeting hers for a split second, then dropped again.

Bela (firm, but quieter than usual):

“Bas.”

That single word carried both command and release.

Akshika blinked, momentarily unsure if she had heard right. Bela gave the faintest nod towards the door. Permission. Freedom.

Akshika’s lips parted, but no words came out. She simply nodded, swallowing hard, and moved past Bela into the classroom.

As she walked in, Bela turned slightly, her eyes following her. For all her strictness, she couldn’t ignore what she had just witnessed — a girl with fire in her veins, holding back her pride only because Bela’s word mattered more.

Bela (to herself, in a low murmur as she walked away):

“Mai jaanti hoon yeh mushkil h bohot tumhare liye... Par mai bhi tunhari Ma’am hoon Yeh punishment tumhare gusse ko ek self – control dega.. Ki har waqt gussa se tum sabko handle nhi kar sakti ho.. Gussa agar apni limit cross kar jaaye toh sirf khud ko nuksaan pohochata h.. ”

And with that, she left the corridor, carrying both the weight of her role and the quiet pride of what she had seen.

The final bell had rung. The corridors were emptying fast, echoing with the sound of laughter and chatter as students left for the day. But Khushi’s heart was beating faster than ever.

She stood outside the staff room door, staring at it as if it were a gate to some battlefield. Inside, she knew, waited her biggest test — not an exam, not a debate, but facing both Bela ma’am and Radhika ma’am together.

Her throat went dry. She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered to herself:

Khushi (murmuring):

“Khushi… control. Radhika ma’am kuch bhi bole… tu chup rahegi. Bas ignore karna h. Bela ma’am wahi hongi… ek galti bhi afford nahi kar sakti tu abhi. Samjhi?”

She drew in a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and knocked timidly.

Bela’s voice (from inside, calm and crisp):

“Come in.”

Khushi’s fingers tightened around her notebook as she pushed the door open.

Inside, Bela sat at the far side of the table, her posture straight, eyes fixed on some papers but clearly aware of Khushi’s every move. Beside her, Radhika ma’am sat with her usual stern face, arms crossed, eyes narrowing the moment Khushi entered.

The atmosphere was thick — formal, heavy, suffocating. Khushi stepped in slowly, lowering her gaze.

Bela (curtly):

“Close the door.”

Khushi obeyed instantly, shutting it softly behind her before moving a few steps closer, clutching her notebook like a shield.

Radhika (cold, her tone sharp):

“So… finally you’re here. I hope today you at least remember the difference between discipline and misbehavior.”

Khushi pressed her lips together, her nails digging into the cover of her notebook. She reminded herself silently — ignore… bas ignore.

Bela’s eyes shifted subtly towards her, catching the flicker of fear in Khushi’s stance. Her tone, however, remained professional.

Bela (firm, to Khushi):

“Show your Maths notebook.”

Khushi immediately stepped forward and placed the notebook on the table. Her hands trembled slightly, but she forced them steady and took a small step back.

Radhika flipped through the pages, her sharp eyes darting across the work. She gave a small scoff.

Radhika (dryly):

“Hm. Neat handwriting at least. Surprising… for someone who can raise her voice so confidently at a teacher.”

Khushi’s chest tightened, but she kept her eyes on the floor. Her lips moved slightly as if repeating her inner mantra.

Khushi (in her head, silently):

“Don’t answer. Don’t react. Ignore.”

Bela noticed the faint twitch in her jaw but said nothing, only folded her hands on the table.

Bela (with authority, to Radhika):

“From today, she will be attending extra classes under you. But under my supervision. She’ll sit here in the staff room — where I can ensure her focus remains only on the subject.”

Radhika shot Bela a side glance, then looked back at Khushi, her expression still severe.

Radhika (coldly, to Khushi):

“If you really want to prove that you belong here, don’t waste my time. No excuses, no arguments. Work. Understood?”

Khushi swallowed hard and gave a small nod.

Khushi (quietly, barely audible):

“Yes, ma’am.”

Bela’s eyes lingered on her for a brief moment — noticing the way Khushi’s shoulders sagged, the way she bit her lip to keep from speaking. But she gave nothing away, only gestured to the empty chair nearby.

Bela (calm, final):

“Sit. And start from where you left last.”

Khushi moved quickly to the chair, her heart still thumping, but a strange relief washed over her. She had survived the first few minutes. She hadn’t reacted. Not yet.

As she opened her notebook and bent over her work, the weight of both women’s gazes pressed on her. One strict… one silently protective.

Khushi bent her head low over the notebook, trying to keep her trembling hands steady as she flipped to the right page. The silence in the room was suffocating, broken only by the faint tick of the wall clock and the rustle of papers as Radhika ma’am prepared her notes.

Radhika (curtly):

“Page 56. Solve question 4.”

Khushi immediately began working, her pen scratching quickly on the paper. She could feel Radhika’s eyes boring into her every move. Sweat gathered at the back of her neck.

After a few minutes, she slid the notebook forward hesitantly.

Radhika barely glanced before speaking, her tone dripping with criticism.

Radhika:

“Wrong. Your steps are incomplete. If this is your preparation, no wonder you thought misbehaving was more important than learning.”

Khushi’s cheeks burned. Her first instinct was to defend herself — to say she hadn’t misbehaved, that she had only spoken up. Her lips parted slightly, but then Bela’s calm voice cut through.

Bela (firm, but not unkind):

“Khushi. Redo it. Take your time and show every step. No shortcuts.”

Khushi quickly lowered her head again, nodding.

Khushi (in her mind, desperately):

“Control, Khushi. Bas likh. Answer mat dena. Nahi toh sab barbad ho jayega.”

She redid the problem, her pen pressing harder than needed against the page. Finally, she pushed it forward again.

This time, Radhika studied it more closely, but her response was still biting.

Radhika:

“Hm. At least this looks like an answer. Remember, half knowledge is worse than ignorance.”

Khushi’s fingers curled tightly under the desk. Her throat ached with the words she was swallowing back.

Bela noticed. She leaned slightly forward, her voice steady but with a finality that ended the moment.

Bela:

“That’s enough for today’s correction. Khushi, continue with the next three questions silently. No breaks until they’re done.”

Khushi exhaled slowly, almost in relief. At least with silent work, she didn’t have to face Radhika’s barbs.

As Khushi bent to her notebook again, Bela’s gaze lingered on her. She saw the tension in her shoulders, the stubborn fire in her eyes hidden beneath obedience. And in that moment, a strange pride flickered inside her — Khushi was enduring it, for the sake of her word.

Radhika, meanwhile, gave a sharp sigh, shaking her head.

Radhika (muttering to Bela):

“Let’s see how long this discipline lasts.”

Bela didn’t respond. She only shifted her eyes back to Khushi, her silence speaking volumes — “Tum kar sakti ho.. Aur yahi tumhara patience build up karega.”

The rest of the hour passed with the scratching of Khushi’s pen and the occasional stern correction from Radhika. By the end, Khushi’s fingers were aching, but her work was neat, complete, and — more importantly — she had managed to keep her calm.

When Bela finally spoke, her tone was calm but carried weight.

Bela:

“Enough for today. Pack up.”

Khushi’s relief was visible in the way her shoulders slumped. She quickly closed her notebook and rose. Before leaving, she cast one nervous glance at Bela — as if silently asking, “Did I do okay?”

Bela didn’t smile, didn’t nod — but her steady gaze was answer enough.

Khushi walked out, her heart heavy but strangely proud. She had faced her biggest fear today — and survived.

---

Khushi stepped out of the staffroom, clutching her Maths notebook so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Her face looked pale, her eyes slightly red, but there was also something new flickering in them — the faintest spark of pride.

The moment she lifted her gaze, she saw them.

Akshu and Vanshu were standing right there in the corridor, pretending to be busy scrolling through notes, but their anxious eyes betrayed them. They had been waiting the whole time.

For a second, Khushi just stared at them, lips trembling. And then, without a single word, she rushed forward and threw her arms around both of them.

Her head buried against Akshu’s shoulder, her voice muffled and shaky.

Khushi (whispering, breathless):

“Main… main sambhal gayi… Uff Maar khane se bhi zyada mushkil tha yeh.. ”

Akshu stiffened for just a second — then her own arms wrapped tightly around Khushi, pulling her closer.

Akshu (softly, brushing her back):

“Pagli… of course tu sambhal jayegi. Tu sochti kya hai apne baare mein… hum sab se zyada himmat tujh mein hi hai.”

Vanshu, already misty-eyed, tightened her grip on Khushi’s other side, her forehead pressing against Khushi’s temple.

Vanshu (sniffling, half-laughing, half-crying):

“Bas kar… warna main bhi yahin staffroom ke bahar ro dungi. Aur sab bolenge — yeh teeno nautanki kahin bhi start kar dete hain.”

Khushi gave a watery laugh, but she didn’t let go. For once, it felt right to just stay there, between them. Their warmth soaking into her trembling body, their presence shielding her from everything she had just endured.

Khushi (voice breaking, but proud):

“Radhika Ma’am ne… jitna bhi kaha… main chup rahi… ek shabd bhi nahi bola… aur kaam pura kiya…”

Akshu leaned back slightly, cupping Khushi’s cheeks with both hands, forcing her to look up.

Akshu (firm, proud smile):

“That’s my sherni.”

Vanshu quickly wiped Khushi’s cheeks with her fingers and added with a grin through her own tears.

Vanshu:

“Ab toh officially proof ho gaya — punishment ke bhi apne medals hote hain… aur pehla medal hum teeno ko milega jis tarah hum apne punishments survive kar rahe h.”

Khushi:

“Seriously.. Mushkil h par hum saath h na toh sab kar lenge."

The three burst into giggles, tears still glistening in their eyes, but laughter spilling through anyway. A few passing students turned to look curiously, but none of them cared.

In that moment, it was just the three of them — bruised, shaken, but stronger than ever.

From the end of the corridor, Bela walked out of the staffroom a few minutes later, a file in her hand. Her steps were brisk as always, but the moment she turned, her eyes froze on the sight ahead.

Akshu, Vanshu, and Khushi — tangled together in one tight hug, laughing through their tears, as if the world outside didn’t matter.

They weren’t aware of her presence, and Bela didn’t call out. She just stood there, half-hidden behind a pillar, watching silently.

Her gaze softened, the sharp edges of her usual stern expression melting away.

Bela (in her thoughts, a faint smile tugging her lips):

“Yeh bacche… punishment ke baad bhi isi tarah ek dusre mein taakat dhoondh lete hain. Na shikayat… na doori. Bas… saath.”

Her eyes lingered on Khushi — cheeks still damp, but a new glow of pride shining through. Then at Akshu — bold, fierce as ever, holding Khushi like she could shield her from anything. And Vanshu — gentle, tender, her laughter healing both of them without even trying.

For a moment, her strictness faltered completely. She wanted to walk up, pull all three into her arms, tell them how proud she was. But she stopped herself, inhaling sharply, regaining her composure.

Bela (inner voice, firm but tender):

“Nahi… agar maine ab apna pyaar dikha diya toh inka discipline hil jayega. Inhe yeh sochne dena hoga ki main sirf unki teacher hoon… sirf tabhi yeh apna best denge.”

Still, she couldn’t resist one last glance. Her lips curved into the smallest smile, visible only for a heartbeat.

Then, with the grace of someone who carried both authority and love in equal measure, Bela turned and walked away, her heels echoing down the corridor.

But inside her heart, she carried that image — three broken-yet-unbreakable souls holding on to each other — as her quiet reassurance that she was on the right path.

The three of them were still holding on to each other when Khushi finally pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked at Akshu and Vanshu curiously.

Khushi (softly, puzzled):

“Waise… tum dono yahan? Practice ke liye nahi gaye?”

Akshu crossed her arms, her face firm but her voice carrying quiet determination.

Akshu:

“Nahi jayenge. Humne decide kiya tha na — agar tu participate nahi karegi toh hum bhi nahi karenge. Aur yeh final decision hai.”

Khushi’s eyes widened, panic rushing in. She quickly shook her head.

Khushi:

“Arey par—”

Before she could finish, Vanshu cut in, her usual soft tone now steady and resolute.

Vanshu:

“Nahi Khushi… Akshu bilkul sahi keh rahi hai. Hum teenon saath karenge toh hi… warna koi bhi nahi. Bas.”

Khushi’s heart clenched at their stubborn loyalty. She bit her lip, searching for words.

Khushi (pleading, her voice trembling a little):

“Accha… lekin kam se kam practice toh miss mat karo. Wahan enjoy karo, aur seekho. Please, itna toh kar sakte ho na…?”

(In her mind, a silent prayer formed, her eyes lowering slightly.)

Khushi (to herself):

“Kaash main koi raasta nikal pati… jisse tum dono meri wajah se give up na karo. Kanha ji, ab sab aapke haath mein hai… teeno ko part lena hi hoga.”

She looked up again, forcing a small hopeful smile.

Khushi (gently):

“Please yaar… practice ke liye jao. Aise mat karo.”

Akshu and Vanshu exchanged a long glance, both sighing heavily. Their determination was unshaken, but Khushi’s earnest request left them no choice.

Vanshu (reluctantly, with a nod):

“Thik hai… chalo, atleast practice toh kar lete hain. Waise bhi warna ma’am ko shak ho jayega.”

Akshu (grumbling but agreeing):

“Hmm… thik hai. Chalo phir. Milte hain baad mein.”

They gave Khushi one last reassuring pat before turning toward the practice hall, leaving her standing in the corridor, still caught between guilt and silent hope.

CLASS - 9B

The school was over and the participants were all busy with the practices, whirl Akshu and Vanshu were away for their respective badminton and art sessions, Khushi was hunched over her notebook in Class 9B, scribbling furiously to finish the pile of assignments Bela had given. Her head was bent so low, she almost didn’t hear her name being called.

Girl at the door (breathless):

“Khushi… Principal sir aur Bela ma’am ne tumhe bulaya hai. Auditorium mein. Abhi.”

Khushi’s pen froze mid-sentence. She looked up, startled, her eyes wide.

Khushi (stammering):

“Abhi? Auditorium mein? K…kya hua? Maine… maine kuch galat toh nahi kiya?”

But the girl had already left, leaving her more unsettled. Her stomach twisted nervously as she packed her notebook, her mind racing.

Khushi (muttering to herself as she walked):

“Hey Kanha ji… ab kya nayi mushkil aa gayi? Ma’am toh punish kar chuki thi… phir ab kya hua? Did I… did I mess up again?”

Her palms grew clammy as she pushed open the heavy auditorium doors.

Inside, the huge hall was eerily quiet. The stage lights were dim, yet she could clearly see three figures waiting at the center — Principal sir, standing tall with his usual serious expression; Bela ma’am, her arms folded, her face unreadable; and next to them, Ayushi, the girl who was selected in place of Khushi for the debate after her name was cancelled.

The sight of Ayushi made Khushi freeze. The girl’s arms were crossed tightly, and her sharp glare cut straight at Khushi as if she were some criminal caught red-handed.

Khushi’s heartbeat thundered in her chest. She stepped inside slowly, her throat dry.

Khushi (hesitantly, voice barely above a whisper):

“Pr…Principal sir? Bela ma’am? Mujhe… aapne bulaya?”

She glanced nervously between them. Bela’s eyes softened briefly, but her strict expression returned just as quickly. Principal sir motioned her forward.

Principal sir (firmly):

“Khushi, aage aao. Tumhe yahan ek important matter ke liye bulaya gaya hai.”

Khushi swallowed hard and walked closer, each step heavier than the last. Ayushi’s glare only grew sharper, as though she was silently accusing her.

Khushi (in her head, panic rising):

“Yeh Ayushi bhi yahan kyu hai? Zaroor debate ka hi matter hai… Kahi kuch problem toh nhi. Main kya bolu ab…?”

She finally stopped in front of them, her eyes fixed on the ground, too scared to meet anyone’s gaze.

Khushi (softly, voice trembling):

“Sir… ma’am… maine… kuch galat kiya hai kya?”

The silence stretched for a long, suffocating moment. Principal sir and Bela exchanged a brief glance. Ayushi huffed loudly, rolling her eyes, clearly annoyed by Khushi’s very presence.

And Khushi stood there — hands fidgeting, heart hammering, waiting for the storm she feared was about to fall on her.

Khushi’s knees felt weak as she stood in front of them. Her eyes darted nervously between Principal sir’s stern expression, Ayushi’s piercing glare, and Bela ma’am’s unreadable face.

Bela, noticing her trembling, spoke in her firm but steady tone.

Bela (calmly, to Khushi):

“Khushi… Principal sir chahte hain ki tumhare aur Ayushi ke beech yahin, abhi ek competition ho. So that we can select the best candidate to represent our school.”

Khushi blinked rapidly, stunned.

Principal sir (looking at Bela, his voice edged with doubt):

“Bela ma’am, with due respect… this decision feels completely biased. I don’t know why you’re insisting on this. I’ve never seen you take sides for any student before. But… since our goal is to send the best to represent us, I will allow it.”

Bela inclined her head slightly, her tone respectful but unwavering.

Bela:

“Thank you, sir. Main aapke decision ki bohot izzat karti hoon. Aur main aapko yakeen dilati hoon… aapko apne faisle par pachtawa kabhi nahi hoga.”

Khushi’s world spun.

Khushi (in her mind, panicked):

“Kya…? Yeh kya ho raha hai? Ma’am ne aisa kyun kiya? Yeh sahi nahi hai… bohot galat hai. Ayushi ke saath bhi, aur ma’am ki izzat ke saath bhi. Ma’am apne khilaaf sabko khada kar rahi hain… sirf mere liye?”

Ayushi’s voice sliced through the silence, sharp with anger.

Ayushi (furious, pointing at Bela):

“Bela ma’am, aap khushi ka favour kar rahi hain! Uska selection hua tha, but she skipped practice — that was her mistake. Uske baad uska naam cancel ho gaya. Aur mujhe choose kiya gaya. Aapko yeh baat bardasht nahi ho rahi, isliye aap ab yeh ‘extra competition’ karwana chahti hain humare beech?”

She crossed her arms, glaring fiercely.

Ayushi (bitterly):

“Yeh partiality hai ma’am. Kya main aapki student nahi hoon? Kya main kam hoon?”

The words echoed in the auditorium, sharp and accusing. Khushi flinched, guilt clawing at her chest. She wanted to take part in the debate — desperately. But not like this. Not at the cost of ma’am’s respect. Not by being the reason Bela ma’am was accused of favoritism.

Bela, meanwhile, stood perfectly still, her face calm and unreadable, taking Ayushi’s storm of words without blinking.

Khushi bit her lip hard, her heart pounding.

Khushi (in her mind, overwhelmed):

“Nahi… yeh galat hai. Main chahe jo bhi chahun… lekin ma’am ki izzat se badi koi cheez nahi. Agar meri wajah se Ma’am ko blame kiya ja raha hai… toh main yeh competition kabhi nahi jeet paungi.”

The auditorium felt colder with every word that left Ayushi’s lips. Her eyes burned with fury as she turned on Khushi.

Ayushi (spitting out the words):

“And you, Khushi… itni desperate ho gayi ho competition ke liye? Itni selfish? Aur selfish kya—tum toh lalchi ho! Sirf us cash prize ke liye is hadh tak gir jaogi, maine kabhi socha bhi nahi tha. You’re just snatching away my position for your own greed. Cheater!”

Khushi’s breath hitched. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest.

Khushi (in her mind, stunned):

“Paise? Nahi… main toh kabhi paison ke liye nahi kar rahi thi… kabhi nahi. Yeh… yeh toh…”

Her throat tightened. The same debate she once dreamt of with excitement now felt like a shackle, heavy and suffocating. She wanted to disappear, to run away from the stage.

Ayushi swung back to Bela, her voice sharper, louder.

Ayushi (accusing):

“And you, ma’am… mujhe toh lagta tha aap thoda partial hain Akshu, Vanshu, aur Khushi ke liye. Lekin itna? Apne dusre students ke saath aisa anyaay karengi aap, maine kabhi socha bhi nahi tha. Aap toh ek police officer bhi hain, ma’am… aur aap hi nyay ke jagah anyaay kar rahi hain?”

For the first time, a flicker of steel flashed in Bela’s eyes. She straightened, her tone sharp but controlled.

Bela (firm, cutting through the accusations):

“Ayushi… before you cross your limits further, yaad rakho kis se baat kar rahi ho. Tumhare words sirf mujhe nahi, poore system pe sawal uthate hain. And let me remind you—auditions ke waqt Khushi tumse pehle select hui thi. Tumne bhi auditions diye the, yaad hai na?”

Ayushi’s face flushed, but she snapped back quickly.

Ayushi (defiant):

“Wo sab mujhe nahi pata! Mujhe sirf yeh pata hai—galti Khushi ki thi. Agar usse debate karni thi toh practice mein aana chahiye tha. How can she be so careless? Aur ab bas expect karti hai ki sab kuch uske liye aasaan bana diya jaaye? Yeh unfair hai!”

Khushi’s hands trembled. Ayushi’s words cut deep like knives. Selfish. Careless. A cheater. And the worst part—the way Bela ma’am silently stood, absorbing the accusations that should have been hers to bear.

Khushi (in her mind, anguished):

“Ma’am meri wajah se blame le rahi hain… aur main chup khadi hoon. Yeh galat hai. Bohot galat. Yeh sirf Ayushi ka haq chhina hua nahi lag raha, yeh lag raha hai jaise ma’am ki izzat pe daag lag raha hai… meri wajah se.”

Principal sir finally raised a hand, his tone stern and cutting through the growing storm.

Principal Sir:

“Enough. Both of you. This is not a marketplace jahan tum dono ek dusre pe ilzaam lagao. Bela ma’am ke faisle par sawal uthana… Ayushi, yeh tumhari hadh se bahar hai. Aur Khushi—tumhare silence ko main weakness samajhoon ya guilt?”

Khushi’s heart skipped. All eyes were now on her. Ayushi’s glare, Bela’s unreadable gaze, Principal sir’s piercing question.

Her lips parted, but no words came.

***

Khushi’s POV

Khushi’s palms grew clammy as she wanted to speak—her lips parted again and again—but no words came out.

Her eyes darted to Ayushi, who was still fuming, then to Principal sir’s stern face, and finally to Bela ma’am.

Bela stood tall, her face unreadable, every inch the strict, unshaken teacher. But Khushi knew better. Behind that stoic mask, behind that silence, Bela ma’am was bearing accusations that weren’t hers to bear. Accusations that had only come because of her.

Khushi (in her mind, spiraling):

“Yeh galat hai… bohot galat. Ayushi ki jagah lena bhi, aur ma’am ko blame hota dekhna bhi. Agar ma’am zindagi bhar aise mujhe favor karti rahi toh? Har jagah log kahenge main ma’am ki special hoon, unki favorite. Classmates mazaak banayenge, teachers mujhe partiality ka product samjhenge. Aur ma’am… ma’am ki izzat pe daag lag jayega. Main yeh bardaasht nahi kar sakti. Mujhe debate chahiye, haan… par is tarah se? Nahi. Mai Ayushi ko jagah kaise le sakti hoon? Kya mai sahi mai selfish ho rahi hoon? Par apne baare mai sochna selfish hota h… Mai toh bas Akshu Vanshu peeche na hate is liye chahti thi ki sab thik ho jaaye, par is tarah.. ”

Her throat ached as if words were trapped there, pounding to come out, but fear and guilt strangled her voice. She clenched her notebook tighter, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes.

Khushi (to herself, painfully):

“Kanha ji… ab main kya karun? Aap hi rasta dikhaiye… Yeh kaha laake khada kar diya h aapne mujhe.. Maine sabki bhalai mangi thi aapse.. Aur aapne yaha sab uljha diya h.. ”

***

Bela’s POV

On the outside, Bela’s face was carved from stone—calm, expressionless, untouchable. But inside, every word Ayushi threw was like a slap.

Partial. Unjust. Playing favorites.

She had spent her whole life building a reputation of fairness, of strength, of discipline. She had taught dozens of children, stood against criminals, fought for justice—and now here she was, being accused of the very thing she despised.

Her jaw tightened, but she refused to defend herself too much. Any more words, and it would look like she was protecting Khushi.

Her gaze flickered to the trembling girl standing before her. Khushi’s wide eyes brimmed with fear and guilt, her silence screaming louder than words. Bela knew what was running through her mind—she had seen that conflict before, in other children who had suddenly realized the weight of her authority.

Bela (in her heart, pained):

“Khushi… tum samajhti kyun nahi? Main tumhare liye lad rahi hoon kyunki main tum mai potential dekhti hoon. Yeh ladai.. Tumhare liye nahi h—tumhari awaaz ke liye, tumhare haq ke liye h. Lekin agar tum hi darr ke peeche hat gayi… toh sirf competition hi nahi, apne aap se bhi haar jaogi.”

Her hands curled into fists behind her back. She wanted to reach out, to reassure, to whisper that this wasn’t favoritism—it was faith. But as a teacher, as Bela Sehgal, she couldn’t.

She could only stand still, waiting.

Bela (in her mind):

“Ab faisla tumhare haath mein hai, Khushi. Ya toh yeh mauka apna ke sabko dikhado tum kis layak ho… ya phir sabko sahi sabit kar do, jo tumhe weak aur selfish keh rahe hain wo sahi h.”

***

Ayushi’s POV

Ayushi’s fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. Her heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear Principal sir’s words anymore. All she could see was Khushi standing there—scared, silent, yet somehow still getting all the attention.

Ayushi (in her mind, bitter):

“Bas yahi bacha tha. Har jagah Khushi aur uski gang ko hi importance milti hai… ab debate mein bhi? Jab main din-raat practice kar rahi thi, tab yeh kahaan thi? Aur ab bas ek letter, ek request… aur ma’am uske liye khadi ho gayi? Yeh kaisi nainsaafi hai?”

Her eyes darted to Bela ma’am, who stood calmly as if nothing could touch her. But Ayushi’s anger only flared.

Ayushi (gritting her teeth):

“Sab kehte hain Bela ma’am impartial hain, fair hain… par main sach janti hoon. Akshika, Vanshika, Khushi—yeh teen hamesha unke nazdeek rahe hain. Aur ab ma’am unke liye apne rules tod rahi hain. Agar main chup rahi toh mera haq chhin jaayega. Aur main chup bilkul nahi rahungi.”

She glanced at Khushi again, who looked like she might break down any second. It only added fuel to Ayushi’s fire.

Ayushi (determined, in her mind):

“Yeh ladki jo apni parchai se bhi darrti hai… debate kya khak karegi? Aur ma’am uske liye itna kar rahi hain… unfair hai yeh. Nahi, main apni jagah kisi bhi keemat pe nahi dungi. Main mehnat karke yahan tak aayi hoon, aur koi bhi, chahe Khushi ho ya Bela ma’am, mujhe is stage se dhakel kar bahar nahi kar sakta.”

Her jaw tightened, her eyes burning with resolve.

Ayushi (resolute):

“Mujhe sabke saamne prove karna hoga… ma’am bhi galat ho sakti hain. Aur main dikhakar rahungi ki main hi is school ki best candidate hoon. Yeh competition main haar kar nahi, jeet kar hi jaungi—chahe iske liye mujhe Khushi ko todna hi kyu na pade. Aur aise bhi isko todna aasan nhi h.. She is on the verge, bas kuch aur mean words aur wo khud bhaag jayegi yaha se. Mai yeh competition se peeche nhi hat sakti.. Mujhe wo paise kisi bhi haalat mai chahiye.”

***

Khushi’s breath hitched the moment Ayushi’s gaze locked onto her. There was nothing but fire in those eyes—anger, bitterness, and a sharp edge of triumph waiting to cut her down.

Ayushi finally let her thoughts spill into words, her voice slicing through the silence.

Ayushi (taunting, bitterly):

“Khushi… tum itna politics kar sakti ho sirf ek competition mai part lene ke liye mujhe nhi pata tha.. Tumne apni nautanki mai Bela Ma’am ko fasa liya.. Mujhe toh lagta tha tum alag ho, par tum toh bas selfish aur lalchi nikli. Lalchi us cash prize ke liye… jo tumhe bina mehnat ke mil jaye. Tumhe toh sharam aani chahiye!”

Her words hit Khushi like stones. She froze, staring at the floor, her throat tight.

Ayushi (stepping forward, her voice sharper):

“Tum jaanti ho na, tumse yeh debate kabhi nahi jeeta jaayega. Tum khud apni shadow se darr jaati ho… stage pe jaakar kya kar logi? Din bhar bas Akshika aur Vanshika ke dum pe uchalti ho.. Bela ma’am tumhe favour karti h so you think tum kuch bhi kar sakti ho.. Mujhe todna chahti ho, par asli mein toh tum khud hi ek jhuki hui kamzor ladki ho. Mujhe lagta hai tum sirf Bela Ma’am aur apne wo do doston ke sahare ho. Unke bina… tum kuch bhi nahi.”

Khushi’s nails dug to her skin as she was trying to ground herself, but her chest was tightening.

Ayushi (smirking coldly):

“Bas ek baat yaad rakhna, Khushi. Mujhse yeh opportunity cheen ke tum kabhi jeet nhi paogi aur na jeetne ke baad bhi khush ho paogi.. Kyuki dusron ka haq cheen’ne wale ko kabhi khushi nhi milti h. Dekho, abhi se ro padne wali shakal ban gayi hai tumhari. Kyuki tum bhi jaanti ho yeh galat h… Kaisi student ho tum.. Bela Ma’am ko itna maanti ho.. Unki itni izzat karti ho aur phir bhi ek competition ke liye tumhari wajah se unhe yeh saare insults bardasht karne pad rahe h.. Sirf tumhari wajah se aaj unki izzat jaa rahi h khushi.. How selfish you are.. ”

Khushi’s lips parted, but no words came out. Her mind screamed—“Nahi, yeh galat hai… yeh ma’am ke liye bhi galat hai…” but her voice betrayed her.

At that moment, Principal sir slammed his palm on the desk, his tone sharp.

Principal Sir (to Bela, sternly):

“Bela ma’am! Yeh sab kya ho raha hai? Aapne hi is confrontation ko wajah di hai. Pehle selection cancel hua, ab dobara? Yeh sirf students ko ek dusre ke khilaaf khada karna hai. Mujhe aap se yeh umeed nahi thi.”

His words echoed across the empty auditorium, cutting deep. Bela’s face remained calm, but her silence seemed heavier than words.

Principal Sir (frustrated):

“Main keh raha hoon, yeh sab partiality lag rahi hai. Ek teacher jab apne students ke liye biased hoti hai, toh uski respect khatam ho jaati hai. Yeh situation isi taraf ja rahi hai, ma’am.”

Khushi’s heart sank. Each word against Bela felt like a dagger in her own chest. She wanted to scream that it wasn’t ma’am’s fault—that she never asked for this. But she couldn’t. Her throat burned, her eyes blurred with tears.

Ayushi folded her arms, smirking faintly as if she had won something already.

Ayushi (mocking softly):

“Dekha, Khushi? Ab sabko lag raha hai tumhe bina haq ke favour mil raha hai. Tum ek cheater ke roop mein yaad rakhi jaogi… aur ma’am bhi partial hone ke liye.”

That was the breaking point. Khushi’s body trembled; she couldn’t breathe.

Without saying a single word, she clutched the hem of her skirt and ran—her footsteps echoing through the auditorium, leaving behind Bela’s unreadable gaze, Principal sir’s disapproving frown, and Ayushi’s cold smirk.

The heavy doors of the auditorium banged shut behind her, silencing everything—except the storm raging inside her.

Outside the Auditorium -

Khushi burst through the heavy doors, her chest heaving, feet barely finding balance as she stumbled into the empty corridor. The noise of the auditorium—Ayushi’s cutting words, Principal sir’s accusations, even Bela ma’am’s silence—still echoed in her ears, refusing to fade.

She stopped near the staircase, clutching the railing for support, and finally collapsed onto the cold step.

Khushi (in a trembling whisper):

“Main… main aisa kabhi nahi chahti thi… Ma’am ke liye blame… aur mujhe selfish kehna… cheater kehna…”

Her breath came in uneven gasps as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. She hid her face in her palms, but the dam had already broken.

Khushi (in her mind, broken):

“Yeh competition jo mera sapna tha… ek choti si iccha thi.. ab ek bojh ban gaya hai. Main ma’am ki izzat ke khilaaf kuch bhi nahi seh sakti. Agar log unhe biased kehne lage… toh main kaise khud ko maaf karungi? Aur Ayushi… uske words… kya main waaqai sirf ek kamzor ladki hoon? Jo stage par khadi bhi nahi ho sakti bina kisi ke sahare?”

Her sobs grew louder as she curled into herself, hugging her knees tightly. Every word Ayushi had spoken replayed in her mind like poison.

Khushi (whispering, choking on her tears):

“Selfish… lalchi… cheater… ma’am ki wajah se sab mujhe yahi kahenge. Maine toh kabhi paise ke liye socha bhi nahi tha… phir bhi… sab mujhe galat samajh rahe hain.. Aur ma’am kyu kar rahi h aisa.. Kyu wo chup rehke saare ilzaam le rahi h apne upar.. Kyu unhone kuch kaha nhi.. ”

She banged her fist lightly against her knee in frustration, tears dripping onto her skirt.

Khushi (pleading in her heart):

“Kanha ji… ab kya karun? Mujhe toh sirf participate karna tha… apne liye, apne doston ke liye… par ab sab galat ho raha hai. Ma’am ki izzat daav par lag gayi hai, aur mujhe sab selfish keh rahe hain. Mujhe koi raasta dikhaiye… main aur bardasht nahi kar pa rahi.”

Her body shook as anotherr wave of sobs overtook her. She wanted to vanish, to disappear so no one could ever point fingers at Bela ma’am because of her.

The corridor remained empty, silent except for Khushi’s broken crying. And in that silence, she felt smaller than ever—crushed under guilt, fear, and the weight of being misunderstood.

Moments Later –

The auditorium doors creaked open softly. Bela stepped out, her face calm but her eyes sharp—masking the storm that brewed within. She scanned the corridor and immediately spotted Khushi sitting on the staircase, curled up, her shoulders trembling, muffled sobs escaping between her palms.

For a moment, Bela froze. The sight pierced through her like a knife—Khushi looked so small, so fragile, as if the weight of the world had crushed her in minutes.

Bela walked closer, her footsteps echoing lightly. She crouched down beside Khushi, her voice firm yet laced with a gentleness only Khushi could draw out of her.

Bela (softly):

“Khushi…”

Khushi flinched at her voice, quickly wiping her tears with the back of her hands, trying to sit straighter. But her red, swollen eyes betrayed her.

Khushi (broken, trembling):

“Ma’am… main… main nahi kar paungi…mujhse nhi hoga Yeh.. Aapne kyu kiya yeh sab.. Itna bada risk apni izzat daav pe laga di aapne.. sab galat ho raha hai… Ayushi sahi keh rahi hai… sabko lagega aap mere liye partial ho rahi hain. Aapki respect… aapka naam daav par lag raha hai sirf mere wajah se… main… main nahi chahti yeh, ma’am.”

Her voice cracked as fresh tears rolled down, and she lowered her gaze in shame.

Bela inhaled slowly, controlling the urge to immediately crush Khushi into her arms. Instead, she placed a steady hand on her shoulder.

Bela (firm but kind):

“Khushi… meri taraf dekho.”

Khushi hesitated, then lifted her teary eyes.

Bela (calm, steady):

“Kya tumhe lagta hai main apne career ke itne saalon mein kabhi partiality karti rahi hoon? Kya maine kabhi tumhe ya tumhari behno ko ek alag nazariye se dekha hai?”

Khushi shook her head quickly, guilt washing over her.

Khushi (in a whisper):

“Nahi ma’am… par sab keh rahe hain… aur mujhe lagta hai… sab meri wajah se…”

Before she could finish, Bela gently cupped her face, wiping away the wet streaks of tears with her thumb.

Bela (with quiet authority):

“Sun lo Khushi… tumhari wajah se meri respect kabhi daav par nahi lagegi. Jo log mujhe jaante hain, unhe pata hai main kabhi galat nahi karti. Aur jo mujhe galat samajhte hain… unhe samajhane ki mujhe zarurat hi nahi.”

Khushi’s lips quivered, her heart aching at Bela’s words.

Bela (leaning closer, softer now):

“Tumhe bas ek baat samajhni hai… maine tumhe yeh chance isliye diya kyunki mujhe tum par bharosa hai. Na paise ke liye, na kisi favouritism ke liye. Sirf isliye kyunki mujhe pata hai tumhari awaaz mein sachchai hai… aur tum stage par jaake apna best dogi. Yeh tumhara haq h.. Tum aise kaise chod sakti ho? Itne saare students ne auditions diye the.. Kyu Sirf tumhe select kiya gaya tell me.. Kya Ayushi ne diya tha audition us din?”

Khushi’s voice had dropped into a whisper, almost defeated.

Khushi (in a whisper):

“Nhi.. Par ma’am mai isey apna haq nhi samajhti..”

At once, Bela’s expression hardened. Her eyes, which had been soft till now, turned sharp—unyielding. She straightened her back, her voice slicing through the silence like steel.

Bela (sharply):

“Kyu? Batao mujhe.. Judges ne tumhe aise hi choose nhi kiya h Khushi.. Don’t forget that.. Aur jis haq ko tum aasani se chod rahi ho na bina lade.. wo Ayushi ka h bhi nhi.. She was chosen in you’re absence.. Yeh kadwa h par sach h.. Bhale hi sabko phir yeh partiality lag rahi ho.. Agar ek Raja ko kisi kaaran ki wajah kuch samay ke liye apne Rajya ka tyaag karna pad raha h toh wo uski majboori h.. Iccha nhi.. Aur isse uska rajya waha kisi aur ka nhi ho jaata h.. Apna haq pehchaan’na seekho Khushi.. Mai ek week absent thi school se.. Radhika ma’am meri jagah se maths classes le rahi thi as substitute.. Toh kya meri respect tumhare mann mai kam ho gayi ya unhone meri jagah le li batao mujhe?”

Her words struck like a whip—direct, undeniable. Khushi’s head shot up, stunned by the force behind them. Her lips trembled as she blurted, desperate:

Khushi:

“Ma’am please.. Yeh aap kya keh rahi h.. Aapki jagah koi nhi le sakta h, koi bhi nhi.. Bhale hi aap ek week absent thi par aapki authority, wo izzat koi nhi cheen sakta.. Aap jaisa koi nhi ho sakta..”

For a fraction of a second, Bela’s gaze softened at the sincerity in Khushi’s voice. But her tone stayed firm, unwavering, leaving no room for doubt.

Bela (firmly):

“aur mai yahi tumhe samjhana chahti hu.. Tum practice mai nhi ja payi thi wo tumhari majboori thi.. Par usse tumne jo jagah banayi h us competition ke liye wo cheen nhi sakta koi.. Wo haq Sirf tumhara hi h..”

Her hand tightened on Khushi’s shoulder—steady, grounding, almost like passing her strength into the girl. Bela’s voice held both command and faith, a reminder and a challenge at once.

Khushi’s voice cracked, her body trembling like a fragile leaf in the wind.

Khushi (broken, whispering):

“Nhi hoga ma’am mujhse.. Mai nhi kar paungi.. Sahi kaha tha Ayushi ne shayad.. Mai Akshu, Vanshu aur aapke sahare ke bina kuch bhi nhi hoon..”

The words pierced through Bela like a blade. Her jaw tightened, and in one swift motion she gripped Khushi’s shoulders, forcing her to look up. Her tone cut through Khushi’s sobs like steel.

Bela (sharply):

“Shut up! Usne keh diya aur tumne maan liya, haan? Wo tumhe sirf todne ki koshish kar rahi thi aisi baatein bolke… and look at you! Tum bhaag gayi waha se… apna haq is tarah chod kar prove kar diya usey ki she is right! Aur agar abhi bhi tum wapas nahi gayi na—then uski kahi ek ek baat sach ho jaayegi.”

Khushi’s lips parted, but no words came. The weight of Bela’s fury and love mixed together pressed down on her chest.

Bela’s voice grew firmer, her eyes blazing.

Bela (commanding):

“Aur khud ke liye na sahi… par humare liye tumhe Ayushi ke saath compete karna hoga, samjhi tum? Kyunki ab meri izzat… Akshu aur Vanshu ke sapne… sab tumhare haath mein hai. Decision ab tumhe lena hai. Kya chahti ho tum?”

Her words struck like thunder, shaking Khushi’s very core.

Bela (leaning closer, intense):

“Aur jitna main tumhe jaanti hoon… if not for yourself, but Akshu Vanshu ke liye… aur meri izzat ke liye—you will go inside and compete with Ayushi. Prove kar do ki tum kamzor nahi ho. Tum fight kar sakti ho apne liye!”

Bela’s grip softened slightly, her voice lowering but carrying the same weight of truth.

Bela (piercing):

“Waha Radhika ma’am ne mere baare mein do shabd kya keh diye, tumne bina soche samjhe unhe itna kuch suna diya tha… aur aaj jab baat khud ki hai… tum chup kyu ho? Get up, Khushi. Go in and fight. If not for yourself… then for your sisters. For me. You have to do this.”

To be continued..