So let’s begin,
-
The Sehgal Mansion – 9:55 PM
The "No Late Night" rule was in full effect.
Bela was patrolling the hallway like a warden. The kids knew this wasn't a joke.
Team Unstoppable’s Bedroom:
The three girls were in their pajamas, standing by their beds.
Bela: (standing at the door) "5 minutes to 10. Lights off. Phones aside."
They reluctantly handed over their phones. Akshu smoothly handed over an old dummy phone she kept for emergencies; her real phone was securely taped under her desk drawer.
Bela: "Good no time pass chup chap sona h?"
Akshu: "Haan Ma'am."
Bela: "Khushi, kal subah jaldi uthne ke liye neend zaroori hai. So jao."
Khushi: "Ji Ma'am."
Bela switched off the main light, leaving only the dim night bulb on.
Bela: "Main 15 minute baad round lagane aaungi. Pin drop silence chahiye."
She closed the door.
10:05 PM
The room was dark.
Khushi: (whispering) "Gayi?"
Akshu: "Pata nahi. Risk nahi le sakte."
Vanshu: "Par sketch complete karna hai! Shading baaki hai!"
Akshu: "Aur mujhe video render karna hai!"
Suddenly, a soft bzzzt... bzzzt... vibrated from under Akshu’s desk.
The girls froze.
Khushi: "Is waqt kiska message ho sakta h?"
Vanshu: "Check kar jaldi.. Kahi sir ka toh nhi."
Akshu quickly slipped out of bed, crawled to her desk, and peeled the tape off her real phone. She turned the brightness all the way down to zero and opened the screen.
It was a message on their secret WhatsApp group: "Operation Surprise Test".
Akshu motioned for the other two. They quickly huddled under Akshu's thick duvet, forming a dark tent, and stared at the glowing screen.
Mahir Sir: "ABORT NIGHT SHIFT. I REPEAT, ABORT."
Akshu gasped silently and started typing furiously.
Akshu: "Kya hua Sir? Hum start karne wale the!"
Mahir Sir: "Mat karna! General Sahiba hallway mein chair laga ke baithi hain. She is literally checking files right outside your door. Full strict mode."
Khushi’s eyes widened in the dark.
Khushi (typing from Akshu's phone): "OMG. Woh guard kar rahi hain?! Jailer mode ON hai unka!"
Vanshu (whispering to Akshu to type): "Sir, par kaam kaise hoga? Shading, editing, sab baaki hai!"
Mahir Sir: "Aaj raat risk mat lo. Agar light ya aawaz aayi aur pakde gaye toh surprise ka The End ho jayega. Plus, additional saza. So jao aaj."
Akshu: "Par Sir, humare pass time nhi h hai!"
Mahir Sir: "Plan B. Kal main usey 'Shopping' ke bahane bahar le jaunga shaam ko.Tum log bas kal shaam 5 se 8 baje tak ka slot free rakhna. Ghar khali milega (mostly)."
Akshu: "Shopping? 3 ghante ke liye?"
Mahir Sir: "Haa mai usey alag alag shops ke chakkar mein uljha dunga. Tum log bas apna kaam khatam kar lena. 5 PM to 8 PM is your window."
Khushi (typing): "You are the best, Sir! Thank you !"
Mahir Sir: "I know. Ab chup chap so jao, warna Hitler mera phone zapt kar legi. Aur haan, agar stress relief ke liye chocolate khane ka mann kare toh jacket check kar lena jo chair pe tangi hai. Shaam ko chupake rakhi thi maine. Goodnight."
Akshu locked the phone and slid it under her pillow. Khushi crawled over to the chair in the dark, patted the jacket, and triumphantly pulled out three chocolate bars.
They sat under the blanket, munching silently in the dark.
Vanshu: "Kal shaam 5 se 8. The Golden Hour."
Khushi: "Tab tak bas kal ka din survive karna hai."
Akshu: "Bas Ma’am jo shaq na ho."
NEXT DAY,
The Sehgal Mansion – 5:00 PM (The Golden Hour)
The school day was over. Lunch was done. The "Nap Time" order had been successfully faked.
Now, the real mission began.
Mahir stood in the living room, checking his watch. Bela came down the stairs, dressed in a simple cotton suit, looking skeptical.
Bela: "Mahir ji, achanak shopping ka plan? List toh bani nahi hai. Aur abhi kya zaroorat h faltoo mai paise waste karne ki."
Mahir: (acting casual) "Arre Bela, shopping pe Jaane ke liye jaun itna sochta h, chalo na.. Waha jaake kuch accha mil hi jayega hume dekhna. Chalo, long drive bhi ho jayegi aur shopping bhi jayegi."
Bela narrowed her eyes.
Bela: "Aap kabse shopping mai itna interest dikhane lage?"
Mahir: "W.. Wo..suna h mall mai sale lagi h is liye bas socha kyu na ghum ke aate h isi bahane tumhara mood bhi fresh ho jayega. Chalo ab, traffic badh jayega."
He practically pushed her towards the door. Before leaving, Bela turned to the kids who were sitting in the living room like angels reading books.
Bela: "Main 8 baje tak wapas aaungi. Tab tak homework khatam hona chahiye. No TV. No mischief. Padhai jaati rakhna, aur Team Aashvi didi log ko tang mat karna.. Warna teeno ko murga bana dungi, let them study."
Team Aashvi: (smiling angelically) "Yes Mumma."
As soon as the car drove out of the gate, the atmosphere in the house transformed instantly.
Akshu: (throwing her book in the air) "GONE! THEY ARE GONE!"
Vanshu: "Time starts now! 3 hours. Go, go, go!"
The War Room (Living Room) – 5:15 PM
The living room was turned into an art studio and editing suite.
Station 1: The Portrait (Dining Table)
Vanshu spread out her art supplies. The charcoal sticks, blending stumps, and the reference photo Mahir had sent (a candid of Bela laughing while Mahir looked at her).
Vanshu: "Koi table nahi hilayega! Aashi, door raho. Charcoal phailta hai."
Aashi: "Main bas dekh rahi hoon! Help karun?"
Vanshu: "Haan, sharpener dhund ke la."
Station 2: The Edit (Sofa)
Akshu sat with her laptop, headphones on. She was going through gigabytes of data.
Akshu: "Vanu, Kiku! Idhar aao. Voiceover record karna hai."
She handed Kiku a hairbrush (pretend mic).
Akshu: "Bolo: 'Happy Birthday Mumma, aap duniya ki best police officer ho!'"
Kiku: (shouting into the hairbrush) "HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUMMA! AAP POLICE HO PAR AAP CHOR NAHI HO!"
Akshu: (facepalming) "Cut! Kiku, chor kyu bolna hai? Phir se. With feeling."
Station 3: The Poem (Window Seat)
Khushi sat by the window with her diary. This was the hardest part. She wanted it to be perfect.
Khushi: (muttering) "Aapki daant mein hai pyaar chupa... Jaise... Jaise karele mein... sehat?" Ugh! Karela nahi likh sakti!
She scratched it out frustratedly.
Khushi: "Focus Khushi. Think emotional. Think deep."
She closed her eyes, remembering the debate competition, the night Bela massaged her legs. The way Bela fought for her against Radhika. The way Bela tied her shoelaces.
The words started flowing.
She smiled. She had found her rhythm.
The Grand Distraction – 5:30 PM (The Palladium Mall)
Mahir’s SUV pulled into the VIP parking of Mumbai’s most luxurious mall, Bela raised an eyebrow.
Bela: “Mahir ji, aap itni mehengi jagah leke aaye h mujhe shopping ke liye?”
Mahir: (unbuckling his seatbelt with a charming smile) “Ha toh jo bhi lenge best lenge . Aaj mujhe apni biwi ke saath thoda time spend karna tha. Chalo.”
Before she could protest about the kids or the pending homework, Mahir held her hand and led her inside. His phone vibrated in his pocket—a thumbs-up emoji from Akshu. The “Golden Hour” at home had officially begun. Now, his job was to keep the General occupied until 8:00 PM.
The Saree Boutique:
Mahir steered Bela directly into an exclusive designer ethnic wear boutique. The mannequins were draped in rich silks and heavy embroidery.
Bela instinctively checked the price tag of a nearby suit and her eyes widened.
Bela: “Mahir ji, yeh dekhiye. Ek simple kurti ke bees hazaar (20,000)? Isse acha main local market se le lungi. Chaliye yahan se.”
Mahir smoothly stepped between her and the exit, taking the price tag out of her hand.
Mahir: “Bela, aaj tag mat dekho. Mujhe dekho.”
He walked over to the premium collection and his eyes landed on a masterpiece. It was a stunning, midnight-blue chiffon saree with delicate, hand-woven silver zari work at the borders. It looked exactly like a starry night sky.
He held it up against her. The deep blue perfectly complemented her complexion.
Mahir: “Perfect. Tum wardi mein officer lagti ho, par isme… tum bilkul meri khwab lagogi.”
Bela blushed slightly but tried to maintain her strict demeanor. “Mahir ji, bohot mehengi hogi. Koi zaroorat nahi hai—”
Mahir cut her off by handing the saree to the attendant. “Pack this.” He leaned closer to Bela, whispering, “Tumhari smile ke aage yeh duniya ki sabse mehengi cheez bhi sasti hai, Bela. Please, let me spoil you today.”
Bela shook her head, but a soft, shy smile escaped her lips. The SHO was melting.
The Kids’ Section:
Once the saree was bought, Mahir thought of heading to a café to kill time, but Bela’s maternal radar had locked onto something else.
Bela: “Aashi ke liye kuch naye kapde lene hain. Pichle hafte uski saari frocks choti ho gayi. Aur Vanu aur Kiku ki toh pant ki length hi kam pad rahi hai. Ab aaya eh toh unke liye bhi dekh lete h. Khush ho jayenge naye kapde dekh ke.. Aapki princess(Vanu) ti uchalne lagegi ‘Papa-papa’ karke.”
Mahir mentally cheered. Shopping for kids? That’s easily two hours killed.
They entered the vibrant children’s section. Suddenly, the fierce police officer was replaced by a typical, fussy mother. She was holding up tiny dungarees, pink tutus, and floral tops.
Bela: “Mahir ji, dekhiye! Yeh yellow frock Kiku pe kitni pyari lagegi na? Aur yeh denim dungaree… Vanu girti bohot hai, isme uske ghutne (knees) safe rahenge. Aur aashi ke liye umm..”
Mahir held the shopping baskets, smiling fondly as he watched her. She was so engrossed in matching hairbands with dresses for the 5-year-olds that she had completely forgotten about the time.
Mahir: (holding up a tiny jacket) “Aur Aashi ke liye yeh? ‘Cool Kid’ vibe?”
Bela: “Haan, par color fade nahi hona chahiye. Usse har cheez pe daag lagane ki aadat hai.”
By 6:30 PM, Mahir’s hands were full of bags filled with clothes for the little ones. Mission ‘Distract the General’ was going phenomenally well.
The Teens’ Section: Decoding Gen-Z
Bela: “Chote bacchon ka ho gaya. Ab Khushi, Akshu aur Vanshu ke liye bhi dekh lete hain. Wo toh kabhi bolenge nhi ki unhe zaroorat h par humara farz banta h.”
They moved to the older girls’ section, and the atmosphere shifted. Bela stared at the racks in pure confusion and mild horror.
Bela: (holding up a pair of heavily distressed jeans) “Yeh kya hai? Fatte hue kapde? Aur iske daam dekhiye! Hazaaron rupaye de kar koi phate hue kapde kyu pehnega? Isse acha main unhe apne purane jeans de du, khud kaat lenge wahan baith kar!”
Mahir burst out laughing, earning a glare from Bela.
Mahir: “Bela, isko ‘Ripped Jeans’ kehte hain. Aaj kal fashion hai. Vanshu ko aisi pasand ayegi shayad.”
Bela put it back immediately. “Bilkul nahi. Mere students bikhariyon ki tarah nahi ghoomenge. Aur yeh dekho…” She held up a crop top(which was too short and deep neck). “Isme toh aada kapda gayab hai! Thand lag jayegi inko. Main inke liye ache, fashionable t-shirt, dresses aur jeans lungi.”
Mahir just nodded dutifully, acting as the perfect bag-carrier while Bela meticulously picked out elegant, sensible, yet stylish clothes for the 14-year-olds.
With her hands finally free of kids' clothing racks, Bela suddenly stopped walking. They were passing by a premium men’s boutique. The display window featured sharp, tailored suits and crisp formal wear.
Mahir turned around, the bags rustling. "Kya hua? Aur kisi ke liye kuch reh gaya? Kiku ki socks?"
Bela shook her head and grabbed his arm, pulling him inside the store. "Aapke liye."
Mahir looked genuinely surprised. "Mere liye? Bela, mere paas bohot kapde hain. Aur aaj tumhara din hai, bachon ka saman bhi le liya humne. Mujhe kuch nahi chahiye."
Bela ignored his protests(typical husband behavior), walking straight to the premium formal shirts section. Her eyes scanned the racks with the same intense focus she used at crime scenes. She pulled out a rich, midnight-blue silk-blend shirt(matching her saree) that felt incredibly soft to the touch.
Then, she walked over to the glass display counter and pointed at a pair of sleek, matte-black and silver cufflinks. "Yeh dono pack kar dijiye."
Mahir walked up to her, his voice soft. "Bela, waise hi itna kharcha ho gaya hai aaj. I don't need this."
Bela turned to him, her expression softening, though her tone remained a gentle reprimand.
"Aapko lagta hai main dhyan nahi deti, Mahir ji? Jab se hum mall aaye hain, aapne mere liye duniya bhar ki expensive cheezein dekhi. Bachon ke nakhre uthane ke liye aadhi dukan khareed li.. Akshu, Vanshu aur Khushi ke kapde dekhte waqt bhi aapne kuch nhi kaha.. Par khud ki baat aayi toh aapko achanak kharcha dikh raha h?"
She took the freshly packed bag from the counter and handed it to him.
Bela: "Aur waise bhi... shaam ko aapne kaha tha na ki aapki favorite blue shirt ka button toot gaya hai aur kal important meeting hai? Toh bas wahi samajh lijiye isey."
Mahir’s breath hitched. He had completely forgotten the silly lie he had made up just a few hours ago to save the kids from her interrogation. He lied to protect the kids, and her first instinct was to buy him a replacement so his work wouldn't suffer. He looked at the bag, then at her, his eyes welling up with sheer adoration. He wanted to kiss her right there, but knowing his wife’s rule against public displays of affection, he settled for gently squeezing her hand.
Mahir: (voice slightly thick with emotion) "Wardi mein General, ghar mein maa... par mere aage hamesha meri sabse caring biwi. Thank you, Bela. Tum nhi hoti toh mera kya hota."
Bela looked away, a deep blush creeping up her neck, masking her shyness by adjusting her handbag.
Bela: "Ho gaya maska lagana? Chaliye ab, mujhe bhookh lagi hai."
Mahir grinned, picking up all the bags, feeling like the richest man in the world. "Chalo, tumhe kuch teekha khilata hoon."
The Street Chaat Date – 7:45 PM
They finally exited the mall, loaded with shopping bags. Mahir checked his phone. 7:45 PM. The kids’ window was closing. It was time to wrap up the diversion.
Mahir parked the SUV near Juhu Beach. He led her to a famous, bustling street-food stall. Sharma Ji Chaat Bhandar.
He ordered a plate of extra spicy Pani Puri (Golgappe) and a plate of Aloo Tikki Chaat.
They stood by the stall, the cool sea breeze messing up Bela’s beautiful hair. Mahir picked up the first water-filled puri and brought it to her lips.
Mahir: “Muh kholo.”
Bela rolled her eyes but obliged, eating it in one bite. The explosion of spicy, tangy mint water hit her instantly. Her eyes watered, and she let out a sharp breath.
Bela: “Teekha hai! Par maza aa gaya”
Mahir chuckled, pulling out a tissue. He gently wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye, his touch lingering on her cheek.
Mahir: (softly) “Wardi mein kitni bhi tough kyun na ban jao tum, SHO Bela Sehgal… par teekhe golgappe ke aage toh tumhe bhi rona hi padta hai.”
Bela sniffled, slapping his arm playfully, but leaned into his touch. “Aap na… kabhi nahi sudhrenge.”
Mahir stepped a little closer, ignoring the crowd around them. He looked into her eyes, which were shining under the streetlights.
Mahir: “Main sudharna chahta bhi nahi. Mujhe aadat ho gayi hai tumhari is strictness ki, tumhari care ki. Tum sabka itna dhyan rakhti ho Bela… kabhi kabhi mujhe lagta hai tum bhool jati ho ki tumhara dhyan rakhne ke liye main hoon yahan.”
Bela’s heart skipped a beat. The spicy aftertaste faded, replaced by a warm, overwhelming sense of love. She looked down at the paper plate, a shy smile gracing her lips.
Bela: “Mujhe pata hai aap h. Isliye toh main bina dare baki sab sambhal leti hoon.”
Mahir smiled, popping a golgappa into his own mouth before picking up a sweet papdi from the chaat plate and feeding it to her to cut the spice.
Mahir: “Chalo, ab ghar chalte hain. Bacche wait kar rahe honge.”
Little did she know exactly what the kids were waiting with.
8:00 PM – The Panic
Three hours had passed. The portrait was almost done—Vanshu was struggling with Mahir’s nose (“Sir ki naak difficult hai!”). The video was looking good, but the rendering was slow.
Suddenly, Akshu’s phone pinged.
Message from ‘Mahir Sir’:
“Red Alert.We are heading back. Traffic is light.”
Akshu: (reading aloud) “Oh god! Sir wapas aa rahe hain!”
Vanshu: (panicking) “Kya?! Meri shading baaki hai! Sir ki naak abhi bhi adhi hai!”
Khushi: “Mera poem ka last stanza bacha hai! Aur baccho ke cards ki finishing Baaki h jo mai kar rahi thi.”
Aashi: “Sameto! Pack up shuru karo!”
Vanshu: “Nahi! Thoda time aur chahiye. Main ruk nahi sakti.”
Akshu: “Risk hai Vanshu!”
Vanshu: “Risk hai toh ishq hai! Guard karo gate pe. Main finish karke hi uthungi.”
Team Aashvi ran to the main window to keep a lookout for the car.
Kiku: (noses pressed against the glass) “Koi gaadi nahi dikh rahi abhi.”
Vanshu’s hand moved with lightning speed. She shaded the background, defined the jawline, and finally added the sparkle in Bela’s eyes.
8:20 PM.
Vanu: “Gaadi! Papa ki gaadi!”
Akshu: “Shut down! Shut down!”
Vanshu blew the excess charcoal dust off the paper. It was done. It wasn’t perfect, but it was raw and beautiful. She quickly sprayed the fixative spray (so it wouldn’t smudge) and sandwiched the drawing between two cardboard sheets.
Khushi: “Chupao! Kahan chupayein?”
Aashi: “Sofa ke peeche!”
Vanshu: “Nahi! Sofa check ho sakta hai. Humare room mai mattress ke neeche!”
They sprinted upstairs. Vanshu slid the drawing under her mattress. Akshu hid the laptop in her laundry basket. Khushi threw her diary into her pillowcase.
They ran back downstairs, grabbed their school books, and sat exactly where they were three hours ago.
8:25 PM.
The front door opened.
Bela walked in, looking exhausted, holding a bags. Mahir followed, holding four bags of clothes and accessories, looking triumphant.
Bela: “Itni shopping ki h na… Mahir ji, hum agle kuch mahine tak Hume kuch khareedne ki zaroorat nhi padegi.”
She looked at the kids.
They were sitting like statues. Khushi was reading a book upside down. Vanshu was staring at a blank page. Akshu was sweating.
Bela: (narrowing her eyes) “Itni shanti?”
She walked over to Khushi and flipped her book right side up.
Bela: “Maths ulti padhogi toh numbers dimaag se gir jayenge.”
Khushi: (laughing nervously) “Wo… new technique hai Ma’am.”
Bela stared at them. She sniffed the air.
Bela: “Kamre mein… charcoal ki smell aa rahi hai. Aur fixative spray ki.”
The girls stopped breathing. Vanshu had used the spray in the living room. Rookie mistake.
Mahir: (jumping in quickly) “Oh! Wo… who maine… maine car ka AC vent saaf kiya tha spray se. Bahar. Shayad smell mere kapdon se aa rahi hai.”
Bela looked at Mahir, then at the girls. She knew they were lying. All of them.
But she saw the slight smudge of charcoal on Vanshu’s thumb which she was trying to hide inside her fist.
Bela smiled internally. Art project. Probably for school. She decided to let it slide.
Bela: “Theek hai. Go wash your hands. Dinner 9:00 baje.”
As she walked towards the kitchen, she paused.
Bela: “Aur Vanshu…”
Vanshu froze. “Ji Ma’am?”
Bela: “Agar wo charcoal ka daag sofa pe laga… toh dry cleaning ka bill tumhari pocket money se katega.”
She walked away.
The six of them collapsed onto the carpet, breathing heavily.
Vanshu: (whispering) “Sher ki gufa mein rehna aasaan nahi hai.”
Khushi: “Par hum bach gaye. Portrait ready. Video ready. Poem ready.”
Akshu: “Ab bas… The Big Day ka intezaar hai.”
They high-fived silently. Phase 2 was complete. Now, the final countdown began.
The Study Room – 9:30 PM
The room was bathed in the warm glow of table lamps. For the first time in forever, the silence wasn’t forced; it was productive.
Usually, “Team Aashvi” and “Team Unstoppable” operated in different orbits—the little ones played while the teens studied (or pretended to). Months ago, there were territories, lines drawn, and constant complaints of “Mumma, dekho di ne kya kiya!”
But tonight, the lines had blurred.
Vanshu was solving Chemistry equations, with Vanu sitting quietly beside her, reading a story book.
Akshu was memorizing Physics definitions, while Aashi held the book, acting as the strict invigilator, checking if Akshu missed a word.
And then, there was the miracle.
Khushi sat at the center of the table, her brow furrowed in deep concentration, tackling a mountain of Trigonometry. Next to her, perched on a high chair, sat little Kiku.
Kiku, who usually ran away at the sight of numbers, was staring at her own kindergarten math worksheet with a pout.
Kiku: (poking Khushi’s arm with a pencil) “Khushi di… yeh ‘Minus’ kyu karte hain? Agar mere paas 5 toffees hain, toh main kisi ko kyu du? Main saari kha lungi na?”
Khushi didn’t snap. She didn’t roll her eyes. She put her pen down gently.
Khushi: “Kiku, maths mein sharing hoti hai. Agar tu 2 toffee Vanu ko degi, toh Vanu khush hogi na? Toh 5 minus 2 equals 3. Aur tujhe ‘Joy of Giving’ milega.”
Kiku: (thinking hard) “Joy of Giving se pet bharta hai?”
Khushi: (chuckling softly) “Nahi, par dil bharta hai. Ab likho ‘3’.”
Vanshu and Akshu watched this exchange, stunned. They looked at each other, then at Khushi.
Vanshu: “Khushi… tu theek hai? Tu Maths kar rahi hai, wo bhi bina roye? Aur Kiku ko logic samjha rahi hai?”
Akshu: “Haan yaar. Usually toh tu ‘Theta’ aur ‘Beta’ ko gaali deti hai.”
Khushi sighed, looking down at her notebook where she had successfully solved three questions in a row.
Khushi: “Pata nahi yaar. Sir ne aaj subah table pe bol diya ki main ‘Full Marks’ laungi. Unhone Ma’am ke saamne humari side li, jhooth bola taaki hum sab bach sake. Aur phir tum dono bhi toh padh rahe ho na.. Akshu tumhe toh physics se chidh h phir bhi abhi padh rahi ho na.. Aur vanshu bhi puri koshish kar rahi h sir ki “science topper”wali baat ko prove karne ke liye.”
Akshu: “Hmm mann toh nhi h lekin agar marks kam aaye toh ma’am ko bura lagega.”
Vanshu: “Hum sab wahi koshish kar rahe h, sir ne bhale hi jhooth bola ho par apna best dena humari responsibility h.”
Khushi traced the numbers on the page with her finger.
Khushi: “Ab agar mai fail hui ya marks kam laye… toh Ma’am disappoint hongi, aur sir jhoothe sabit ho jayenge. Unka trust toot jayega.”
She looked up at her sisters, her eyes sincere.
Khushi: “Hum Ma’am ki daant seh sakti h, par unki disappointment nahi. Sir ne promise kiya hai, toh hume try toh karna padega na. Aur mujhe bhi at least passing se toh upar lana hi hoga.”
Vanshu smiled, reaching out to squeeze Khushi’s hand.
Vanshu: “Proud of you. Aur chinta mat kar, tu kar legi. Tera dimaag chalta hai, bas tu chalati nahi hai.”
Akshu: “Team Sehgal rocks. Hum sab pass honge, aur party bhi karenge.”
A moment of comfortable silence passed, the six of them connected by an invisible thread of unity. From rivals to roommates to a family unit—they had come a long way.
Akshu: (suddenly whispering) “Wait. Party se yaad aaya. Gift ka main part missing hai.”
Vanshu: “Kya?”
Akshu: “The Memory Book. Humne content ready kar liya—photos, poem, cards, sketch video. Par hum yeh sab chipkayenge kahan? Humein ek physical diary chahiye.”
Aashi: “Normal notebook lele?”
Akshu: “Nahi Aashi. Yeh special hai. ‘The General’s Memory Book’ needs to look royal. Classy.”
She pulled out her phone (hidden under the Physics book) and opened a shopping app. She had shortlisted a few items earlier.
Akshu: “Dekho.”
She turned the screen towards them.
It was a beautiful, vintage-style leather-bound journal. It had a dark mahogany cover with antique brass locks and thick, handmade paper inside. It looked like something a wizard or a poet would own.
Khushi: (gasps) “Wow. Yeh toh bohot sundar hai. Ma’am ko leather diaries pasand hain. Police station mein bhi unke paas ek hai.”
Vanshu: “Iska paper thick hai? Kyunki hum paint aur photos use karenge.”
Akshu: “Haan, 200 GSM paper hai. Perfect for sketching and sticking. Price thoda zyada hai… 2500 rupees. Par worth it hai.”
Kiku: “Order karo! Order karo!”
Akshu: “Address kahan ka doon? Ghar pe aaya aur Ma’am ne receive kiya toh surprise phuss.”
Khushi: “Sir ka office!”
Vanshu: “Nahi, office dur hai. School? Nahi, allowed nahi hai.”
Aashi: (raising her hand) “Shanti Didi! Unka quarter peeche hai. Address mein ‘Shanti Didi – Staff Quarter’ likh do. Courier wala wahan jayega, Mummy ko pata bhi nahi chalega.”
Akshu: “Genius Chutki! Done.”
Akshu tapped the screen.
Order Placed. Estimated Delivery: 2 Days.
Akshu: (putting the phone away) “Book aa jayegi Friday tak. Saturday night ko hum sab milke usse assemble karenge. Sunday ko birthday hai.”
Vanshu: “Matlab Saturday ki raat… ‘The Great Assembly Night’ hogi.”
Khushi: “Aur usse pehle… Friday ka Surprise Test survive karna hai.”
Bela’s Voice: (from the hallway) “Baatein kam, padhai zyada. 10 baje lights off.”
The six of them immediately bowed their heads back into their books.
Khushi: (whispering to the sine wave) “Tu aur main… humara yudh (war) abhi baaki hai.”
She picked up her pen, determined to make the numbers make sense, for the sake of the man who believed in her when she didn’t believe in herself.
___________________________________________
To be continued..
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