So let's begin,
-
The Master Bedroom - 11:30 PM (The Birthday Eve)
The house was completely silent. The chaotic six were finally asleep peacefully, all ready with their preparations and probably dreaming of the priceless reactions they would get tomorrow. While Bela was more than ready to call it a night. She assumed Mahir was already asleep, having complained of a "headache" after returning from the dinner.
She stepped out of the washroom, wiping her face with a towel, dressed in her simple, comfortable cotton nightgown. She was mentally preparing tomorrow's schedule-breakfast, laundry, maybe a little revision session for the kids.
But as she looked up, she stopped in her tracks.
The harsh overhead lights had been switched off. The room was bathed in the soft, warm glow of the bedside lamps.
And there, resting perfectly in the center of their neatly made bed, was the elegant boutique bag from their shopping trip at the Palladium Mall.
Bela frowned slightly, walking over. On top of the bag sat a crisp, white envelope. Her name was written on it in Mahir's distinct, neat handwriting:
To Mrs. Bela Sehgal.❤️
She set the towel aside and picked up the envelope, her heart suddenly beating a little faster. She opened it and pulled out a small card.
"Wardi, routine, aur strictness ka time khatam.
The kids are asleep, the house is secure, and the 'General' is officially off-duty. For the next few hours, I don't want the SHO, the teacher, or the strict mother. I just want my Bela.
Wear this. I bought it because it reminded me of the night sky, but it won't shine until you wear it. Dress up for me, beautifully.
I'm waiting for you where our memories live. Come down before the clock strikes 12.
Yours always,
Mahir."
Bela read the note twice. A deep, warm blush crept up her neck, coloring her cheeks. A shy, almost girlish smile broke through her usually composed expression.
Pagal aadmi, she thought, her chest swelling with affection. Headache ka bahana banakar yeh sab plan kar rahe the.
She opened the boutique bag and carefully pulled out the saree. The midnight-blue chiffon cascaded over her hands like water, the delicate silver zari borders catching the dim light of the room. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and the fact that Mahir had picked it out specifically for this moment made it priceless.
Bela looked at the wall clock. 11:40 PM. She had twenty minutes.
For the first time in a very long time, Bela Sehgal didn't rush to get ready for duty or a school run. She took her time.
She draped the midnight-blue saree perfectly, the lightweight fabric hugging her frame. Instead of tying her hair up in her signature, severe police bun, she brushed it out, letting the soft, dark waves cascade freely down her back.
She stood in front of the mirror. She applied a stroke of kohl and eyeliner to her sharp eyes, a subtle shade of lipstick, a pair of matching silver jhumkas and bangles and finally, placed a small silver bindi on her forehead. She looked at her reflection. The strict officer was gone. Looking back at her was a woman deeply loved, radiating a quiet, elegant beauty.
She checked the time. 11:55 PM.
Taking a deep breath, her heart fluttering with the anticipation of a newlywed, Bela opened the bedroom door. The hallway was dark, but a faint, magical glow was coming from the balcony that led to the backyard.
She stepped out softly, her heels making a faint click against the floor, ready to follow the trail Mahir had set for her.
She pushed open the glass doors of the balcony and stepped out into the cool Mumbai night.
The sprawling backyard, usually cloaked in darkness at this hour, was transformed. A pathway of small, glowing paper lanterns snaked its way across the lawn, leading directly to the old wooden Gazebo. Between the lanterns, a thick carpet of deep red rose petals had been laid out, looking almost like velvet under the moonlight.

(I have uploaded a reference picture of the Gazebo , hope it helps.)
Bela stepped onto the pathway, the soft crush of petals beneath her silver heels the only sound breaking the silence.
As she walked past the first lantern, she noticed a small, handwritten card tied to its handle with a silk ribbon. She paused, gently untying it.
"To the world, you are the law, the discipline, the unbreakable shield,"
the first note read.
She smiled softly, walking a few steps further to the next lantern. Another card waited for her.
"To our three little heartbeats, you are their anchor, their strict but fiercely loving mother."
Her eyes misted slightly as she moved down the glowing path. The night breeze played with her open hair, the chiffon of her midnight-blue saree fluttering gently. She reached the final lantern, positioned right at the wooden steps of the Gazebo.
She picked up the last note.
"But to me... you are simply my universe. The girl I fell in love with in the rain."
Bela looked up from the card, her breath catching in her throat.
The Gazebo was a vision, draped in thousands of warm white fairy lights that twinkled like captive stars. But it wasn't the lights that made her heart skip a beat.
It was him.

(I tried creating the picture using AI, but it didn't turn out exactly how I wanted. You can use it as a reference for their
outfits.😅)
Mahir stood in the center of the Gazebo, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. He wasn't wearing his usual structured corporate suits. Instead, he was wearing the shirt-the premium, midnight-blue silk-blend shirt she had bought for him at the men's boutique.
It fit him like a dream, the rich color perfectly mirroring her own saree. The sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing the sleek silver watch resting familiarly on his right wrist. His usually perfectly styled hair was delightfully messy, a few soft strands falling casually across his forehead, softening his sharp jawline and making him look utterly, devastatingly handsome.
He looked like the boy who had stolen her heart years ago, but with the quiet, intense confidence of the man who still owned it.
Mahir took a step forward, his eyes locking onto hers. The moment he saw her in the saree, with her hair cascading down her shoulders and that shy, beautiful bindi resting on her forehead, the rest of the world simply ceased to exist.
He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. He walked down the short wooden steps and closed the distance between them.
He stopped just inches away, his gaze tracing her face as if memorizing it all over again. He slowly raised a hand, his knuckles gently brushing against her cheek, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His touch sent a familiar, electric shiver down her spine.
Mahir: (his voice a low, husky whisper) "Tumhe pata hai... jab maine yeh saree dekhi thi, toh mujhe laga tha yeh bohot khubsurat hai."
His thumb gently traced her jawline, his eyes completely captivated by her.
Mahir: "Par main galat tha. Saree khubsurat nahi hai, Bela. Tumne isse pehen kar iski keemat badha di hai."
Bela's cheeks burned with a deep, rosy flush. She looked up at him through her thick lashes, her hand instinctively reaching up to rest lightly on his chest, right over his heart. She could feel it beating just as fast as hers under the soft silk of the blue shirt.
Bela: (smiling softly) "Aur aapne meri di hui shirt pehni hai... Taki match kar sakein?"
Mahir looked down at her hand on his chest, then back into her deep, kohl-lined eyes. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms securely around her waist, pulling her flush against him.
Mahir: "Maine yeh shirt isliye pehni hai kyunki tumne ise itne pyaar se mere liye chuna tha. Aur jab baat tumhe match karne ki ho, General Sahiba... toh main zindagi bhar tumhare kadam se kadam milane ke liye taiyaar hoon."
They stood there in the lantern-lit glow, wrapped in each other's arms. There were no kids fighting over homework, no police cases, no school tests. The breeze carried the scent of roses and his familiar cologne. It was pure, unfiltered intimacy.
It was, in every sense of the word, their moment.
The night breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the faint, sweet scent of the roses. Mahir's arms were wrapped securely around Bela's waist, and she rested her hands lightly on his chest, feeling the steady, rhythmic beating of his heart beneath the silk shirt.
For a long moment, they just swayed slightly under the fairy lights, completely lost in their own world.
Mahir leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. He rested his forehead against hers, his breath fanning her face.
Mahir: (whispering) "Pichle kuch dino se tum itni thaki hui thi. School, ghar, aur in che(6) shaitaano ki padhai... Main bas chahta tha ki aaj raat ke kuch pal sirf aur sirf tumhare naam ho. Bina kisi duty ke."
Bela closed her eyes, a contented sigh escaping her lips. "In sab mein thakan zaroor hoti hai, Mahir ji. Par jab din ke aakhri mein main aapke paas aati hoon, toh saari thakan gayab ho jati hai. Aap meri sabse badi shanti h."
Mahir smiled, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. He gently guided her in, his hand resting on the small of her back.
Bela: (whispering, her voice trembling slightly) “Mahir ji… yeh sab…”
Mahir: “Yeh sab tumhare liye hai. Sit.”
He made her sit on the cushions and handed her one of the hot, ribbed glass tumblers. He picked up his own and clinked it gently against hers.
Mahir: “Vow Number One. The Beginning. Aaj se kai saal pehle, ek ladki ne mujhse kaha tha ki use mehenge restaurants se zyada tapri ki chai pasand hai. Yeh us ladki ke liye, jisne mujhe simplicity se pyaar karna sikhaya.”
Bela took a sip. The strong flavor of ginger and cardamom hit her tongue, instantly transporting her back to their courtship days. She was overwhelmed by now.
Bela: “Perfect hai. Bilkul waisi hi.”
Mahir: (smiling softly) “Abhi toh party shuru hui hai, General Sahiba.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, sleek velvet box. He popped it open to reveal a delicate platinum chain with a beautiful, understated star pendant.
Mahir: “Vow Number Two. The Partner. Tumne jab SHO ki post sambhali, you got stars on your shoulder. Duniya ke liye tum ek strict officer ho, students ke liye ek strict teacher, bacchon ke liye unki Maa. Par mere liye… tum mere aasmaan ka sabse chamakta sitara ho. Yeh us partner ke liye jiske bina meri duniya andheri hai.”
He moved closer, brushing her open hair aside, and fastened the chain around her neck. Bela’s hand instinctively went up to touch the cold metal of the star resting against her collarbone.
Bela: “Mahir ji… it’s beautiful.”
Mahir: (chuckling) “Wait. Vow Number Three thoda spicy hai.”
He reached under the small table and pulled out a glass jar filled with something dark and tangy, along with a small bowl of Imli (tamarind) dipped in chocolate sauce.
Bela burst into a sudden, watery laugh, covering her mouth.
Bela: “Imli aur chocolate? Seriously? Aapko meri pregnancy cravings abhi tak yaad hain?”
Mahir: “Kaise bhool sakta hoon? Raat ke 2 baje mujhe pure shehar mein ghumaya tha tumne iske liye. Vow Number Three is for the Mother. Jisne humari family ke liye itna pain saha. Chahe Team Aashvi ko janam dena ho, ya Khushi, Akshu, aur Vanshu ko apne dil se apnana ho. Tumhari is mamta (motherhood) ke liye, yeh meri taraf se ek chota sa ‘Thank You’.”
Bela looked at the imli, her heart swelling. She picked up a piece and fed it to him, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
Mahir: (eating the imli and wincing playfully at the sourness) “Okay, moving on before I need water. Vow Number Four.”
He stood up, took the chai glass from her hand, and placed it on the table. He pulled out his phone, pressed play on a hidden Bluetooth speaker, and a soft, slow, instrumental melody filled the Gazebo.
He held out his hand.
Mahir: “May I have this dance, Mrs. Sehgal?”
Bela placed her hand in his. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist, while her arms naturally found their way around his neck. They swayed slowly to the music, stepping perfectly in sync, just like they always did.
Bela: (resting her head on his chest) “Aapne mujhe puri tarah nishastra (disarmed) kar diya hai aaj raat.”
Mahir: (kissing the top of her head) “Wohi toh mera maksad (goal) tha. Vow Number Five. The Sanctuary.”
He stopped dancing but kept her in his arms. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a beautifully designed, handmade card. He handed it to her.
Bela opened it. It read: The ‘No-Questions-Asked’ Spa & Rest Voucher. Valid for a lifetime.
Bela: (looking up, confused) “Voucher?”
Mahir: (his voice turning thick with emotion) “Duniya tumhe tough samajhti h, Bela. Tumhe humesha strong rehna padta hai. High – profile cases handle karne ke liye wo zaroori bhi h.. Bacchon ko tootne se bachane ke liye tumhe sakht banna padta hai. Par tumhara kya? Jab tum thak jati ho, toh kiske paas jati ho?”
Bela’s breath hitched. He had hit the exact fear she had confessed to him days ago.
Mahir: “Yeh voucher ek promise hai, Bela. Mere saamne, tumhe strong banne ki zaroorat nahi hai. Tum weak ho sakti ho, tum ro sakti ho, tum thak sakti ho. Aur tum jab chaho yeh voucher mujhe dena, aur main tumhari saari duties take over kar lunga. I will be your shield, Bela. Jab tum apni dhaal utha ke thak jao, toh mere peeche chhup jana. Take a day off.. Sleep the whole day, go for a relaxing spa, pamper yourself, eat what gives you happiness and just be yourself or rather just be mine.”
The dam broke. The strict SHO, the terrifying Maths teacher, completely shattered. Bela threw her arms around Mahir’s neck, burying her face in his shoulder, and sobbed. She cried for the exhaustion, for the fear of failing the kids, for the sheer pressure of being perfect. And Mahir just held her, stroking her hair, letting her release everything she had bottled up.
After a few minutes, Bela pulled back, wiping her eyes, a beautiful, unburdened smile on her face.
Bela: “Aapse acha mujhe koi nahi samajhta, Mahir ji.”
Mahir: “Kyunki main tumhari rooh (soul) padhta hoon. Aur hum alag thodi h.”
He wiped a stray tear from her cheek. Then, he reached into his jacket one last time and pulled out a ring box. He opened it, revealing a stunning diamond Eternity Ring.
Mahir: “Vow Number Six. The Future. Is ring ka koi beginning ya end nahi hai. Just like my love for you. Yeh tumhare us sacrifice ke liye jo tum humare future ke liye roz karti ho.”
He slipped it onto her ring finger, right next to her wedding band. It fit perfectly.
Bela: “Mahir ji… it’s too much…”
Mahir: “Shh. Ek aakhri (last) bacha hai. Vow Number Seven. The Humsafar.”
To Bela’s absolute shock, Mahir took a step back and went down on one knee. He pulled out a flat velvet box from his inner pocket. Inside lay a pair of exquisite, heavy silver Payal (anklets).
Bela: (gasps, stepping back slightly) “Mahir ji, kya kar rahe h? Uthiye please.”
Mahir: (looking up at her, his eyes filled with absolute devotion) “Shaadi ke waqt humne saath phere liye the Bela.. Aaj mai wapas unhe tumhare saath jeena chahta hoon.. Saatva (7th) phera dosti aur sath chalne ka hota hai. Bela, main tumhare aage chal ke tumhe lead nahi karna chahta, aur na hi tumhare peeche chal ke tumhe follow karna chahta hoon. Main tumhare sath chalna chahta hoon. Kadam se kadam mila ke. Yeh payal is baat ka promise hai, ki tum jahan bhi jaogi, meri dhadkan tumhare kadmon ki aawaz ke sath chalegi.”
He gently lifted the hem of her saree, took her right foot, and placed it on his knee. With reverent hands, he clasped the cool silver anklet around her ankle. He repeated the process with her left foot.
As he clasped the second one, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her instep.
Bela was completely speechless. Her heart was beating so fast she felt it might burst out of her chest.
Mahir stood up. The clock on his phone flashed 12:15 AM.
Mahir: “Happy Birthday, meri Jaan. I love you.”
Bela didn’t say a word. She couldn’t. She just grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and captured his lips in a fierce, passionate kiss that conveyed every ounce of love, gratitude, and relief she felt. Mahir responded instantly, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground as the fairy lights twinkled around them like stars.
When they finally broke apart, resting their foreheads against each other, they were both breathless.
Bela: (whispering, a teasing smile playing on her lips) “Aapne standards bohot high set kar diye hain, Mr. Sehgal. Ab dekhte hain aapke bache subah isko kaise beat karte hain. Aur is baar toh puri paltan h.”
Mahir: (chuckling softly) “Bacchon ka surprise apni jagah, Bela. Par main bas yeh yaad dilana chahta tha ki tumhare ‘General’ mode ke peeche jo khoobsurat aurat hai… main uske bina ek pal nahi reh sakta. You know what jhooth bolte h log ki shaafi ke baad pyaar kam ho jaata h.. Mera pyar toh roz tumhare liye thoda badhta h.. ”
They stood there in the quiet Gazebo, listening to the soft chhan-chhan of her new anklets every time she shifted, completely unaware of the magnificent ‘Memory Book’ waiting for them upstairs, but perfectly content in the beautiful present they had created for themselves.
The Master Bedroom – 9:00 AM (The Birthday Morning)
The morning sun filtered through the sheer white curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. For a woman whose internal clock usually jolted her awake at 4:30 AM for drill and duties, 9:00 AM was a scandalous luxury.
Bela slowly drifted out of a deep, dreamless sleep. The first thing she registered wasn’t the chirping of the birds outside, but the steady, rhythmic thumping of Mahir’s heart against her back.
She was cocooned in his embrace. Mahir’s strong arm was draped heavily over her waist, holding her flush against his chest, his face buried in the crook of her neck. His breathing was slow and even, his warm breath tickling her skin.
Bela didn’t move. She didn’t want to break the spell.
Usually, her mornings began with a mental checklist: the morning punishment drill, kids lunchbox, their uniform, assignments, tests, and the pending files at the police station. But today, the ‘General’ was completely off-duty.
She shifted her right foot slightly under the heavy duvet. A soft, musical chhan-chhan echoed softly under the covers. The silver anklets. She brought her left hand up, letting the morning sunlight catch the diamonds on her new eternity ring, resting perfectly next to her wedding band.
A soft, content smile graced her lips. The heavy armor she wore every single day felt entirely stripped away, leaving behind just Bela—a woman who was profoundly, overwhelmingly loved.
As she shifted again, the arm around her waist tightened instinctively. Mahir groaned softly, nuzzling his nose deeper into her hair.
Mahir: (voice husky and thick with sleep) “Itni jaldi uth gayi? Aaj toh chhutti hai…”
Bela: (whispering, her voice gentle) “9 baj gaye hain, Mahir ji. Mere hisaab se toh aadhi subah nikal chuki hai.”
Mahir slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the sunlight. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her. Her face was relaxed, the usual strict lines smoothed out by a good night’s sleep and the lingering magic of the midnight Gazebo surprise.
Mahir: “Good morning, Birthday Girl.”
He leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead, then her cheek, and finally her lips.
Bela: “Good morning. Aur… thank you. Raat ke liye. Main shayad theek se bol nahi payi, par… you made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.”
Mahir: (smiling, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear) “Khushi ke aasuon (tears of joy) ne sab kuch bol diya tha, Bela. Mujhe words ki zaroorat nahi padi.”
He pulled the duvet back slightly, his eyes falling on her feet.
Mahir: “Payal aawaz kar rahi hai?”
Bela: “Hmm. Bohot pyari aawaz hai. Aisa lag raha hai jaise ghar mein thoda aur music add ho gaya hai.”
Mahir chuckled, pulling her closer again, resting his forehead against hers.
Mahir: “Toh aaj ka kya plan hai, Mrs. Sehgal? Bed tea? Breakfast in bed? Ya seedha lunch?”
At the mention of breakfast, Bela’s maternal radar, which had been blissfully dormant, suddenly pinged to life.
She frowned, looking towards the bedroom door.
Bela: “Mahir ji… 9:15 baj gaye hain.”
Mahir: “Haan, toh?”
Bela: “Toh ghar itna shant kyu hai? Sunday morning hai. Aashi - Vanu aur Akshu-Vanshu ki ladayi ki aawaz nahi aa rahi. Kiku TV ke liye nahi ro rahi. Khushi ke girne ki aawaz nahi aayi. Yeh sannaata (silence) bohot ajeeb hai.”
Mahir’s heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly why the house was quiet. Downstairs, “Team Sehgal” was probably executing the last Phase of ‘Operation Surprise Test’ with military precision. He needed to stall the General.
Mahir: “Arre, thak gaye honge kal raat ki padhai se. Sone do unhe. Aise bhi Sunday h aaj..Tum kyu tension le rahi ho? Aaj tumhara din hai.”
Bela sat up, pushing the duvet aside.
Bela: “Mahir ji, jab che (6) bache ek saath shant ho, toh uska matlab shanti nahi hota. Uska matlab hota hai ki koi bohot bada toofan aane wala hai, ya koi bada nuksaan ho chuka hai.”
She quickly tied her hair into a messy bun and was heading towards the door.
Mahir: (sitting up, trying to hide his panic) “Bela, wait! Kam se kam slippers toh pehan lo!”
Bela: “Main bas check karke aati hoon ki sab theek hai ya nahi. Mujhe yeh shanti bilkul pasand nahi aa rahi.”
As she walked towards the door, the silver anklets chimed with every step. Chhan. Chhan. Chhan.
Mahir quickly threw on his t-shirt and followed her. He pulled out his phone and frantically typed a message to the group chat he had created with the teens.
Message: Alert! The General is awake and suspicious. She is heading downstairs! Execute! Fast!
Bela opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway. The silence was indeed deafening. No giggles, no whispers.
She started walking down the stairs, Mahir trailing closely behind her, trying to mask his nervous smile.
Bela: (whispering back to him) “Dekha? Koi aawaz nahi. Main bata rahi hoon, inhone pakka kitchen mein kuch jalaya hai.”
They reached the landing. The living room was completely dark. The heavy curtains were drawn shut, blocking out the morning sun.
Bela: “Andhera kyu hai itna? Raat ko curtains kisne draw kiye the?”
She reached for the light switch on the wall.
Bela: “Khushi? Akshu?Vanshu? Kahan ho sab?”
Her fingers found the switch.
Click.
The living room flooded with light, and before Bela’s eyes could even adjust to the brightness, six voices erupted in perfect, deafening unison from behind the sofas.
“SURPRISE!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUMMA/MA’AM!!!”
Bela physically recoiled, her hand flying to her chest. For a woman who faced criminals without flinching, six screaming children jumping from behind the furniture was a genuine jump-scare.
The living room, which was spotless just hours ago, had been completely transformed. Elegant black and gold balloons—the "Chemicals"—floated near the ceiling. A massive, glittering banner reading "Happy Birthday to the best Mumma" hung across the large windows.
Before Bela could even process the visual shock, Team Aashvi charged.
Aashi, Vanu, and Kiku crashed into her legs, hugging her tightly.
Kiku: "Happy Birthday Mumma! Dekho humne ghaas-phoos nahi banaya!"
Bela looked over the little ones' heads to the three teenagers standing near the center table, beaming with pride and a tiny bit of nervous energy. Khushi was nervous regarding her poem yet smiling, Vanshu was and Akshu were holding a party popper.
POP!
Gold confetti rained down on Bela.
Mahir, who had been standing right behind her, wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders, resting his chin on her head.
Mahir: (whispering) "Surprise, Mrs. Sehgal. Kaha tha na, shanti ka matlab humesha toofan nahi hota."
Bela was utterly speechless. She looked at the decorations, then at the kids. The strict SHO persona completely evaporated, leaving behind a very overwhelmed mother.
Bela: "Yeh... yeh sab kab kiya? Kal raat ko toh main 10 baje sabke room check karke aayi thi. Aur Mahir ji... Aap bhi isme shamil the?"
Khushi: (stepping forward, grinning) "Surprise Test ka jawab Surprise Party se diya hai, Ma'am! Aur Sir humare secret agent the. Unhone hi aapko 'shopping' aur 'dinner' ke bahane distract kiya tha."
Bela turned to look at Mahir, her eyes wide. "Matlab ki woh shopping aur woh dinner... sab distraction tha?"
Mahir: (laughing) "Distraction plus romance, Bela. Multitasking."
Akshu: "Wait, wait! Main ingredient abhi baaki hai!"
Akshu and Vanshu jogged into the kitchen and emerged a moment later carrying a massive, beautiful 3-tier chocolate truffle cake. It looked absolutely decadent, with gold flakes sprinkled on the dark chocolate frosting.
Vanu: (clapping her hands) "Pythagoras Geometry Box aa gaya!"
Bela blinked, thoroughly confused. "Pythagoras... kya?"
Vanshu: (laughing) "Ma'am, yeh humara code word h.. Yaad h revision ke beech kabhi kabhi hum yeh sab words use karte the?"
Bela’s detective brain finally connected the dots. The hushed whispers, the sudden interest in studying together, the weird terminology.
Bela: "Wait. 'Geometry Box' matlab cake? Aur Pythagoras..."
Akshu: "Pythagoras matlab Chocolate flavor. Aur balloons the humare 'Chemicals'. Humein pata tha aapke kaan har jagah hain, isliye hum code words use kar rahe the."
Bela couldn't help it. A genuine, bright laugh escaped her lips—a rare, beautiful sound that echoed in the living room. She shook her head in disbelief.
Bela: "Tum logon ne literally padhai ko apni saazish (conspiracy) bana liya? Unbelievable. Mujhe ko hi outsmart kar diya badmash.. Itni buddhi agar padhai mai laga ki hoti toh full marks aa jaate.. Ab samjhi mai itne dino yeh jo tum dono teams ki jugalbandi chal rahi wo sab tumlogo ki planning ka part tha. Oh god.. Aur mai soch rahi thi bacche sudhar gaye h.. "
Akshu stepped forward, puffing her chest out slightly. The success of the surprise had injected her with a newfound burst of courage.
Akshu: “Ma’am, agar hum sudhar gaye… toh aapka entertainment kaise hoga? Thane mein toh sab aapse darr ke chup chap khade rehte hain. Ghar pe thoda action aur drama toh banta hai na, warna aap bore ho jayengi!”
Bela raised an eyebrow, her strict SHO glare making a brief, instinctual comeback. Akshu instantly took a half-step back, gulping. But then, Bela’s eyes softened, and she let out another warm chuckle.
Mahir: “Chalo chalo, ab cake cutting. General Sahiba, please.”
Bela walked to the center table. The kids surrounded her. She cut the cake amidst a chaotic chorus of the “Happy Birthday” song. She fed the first piece to Mahir, then to each of the kids.
Before Bela could say anything, she felt three pairs of tiny hands aggressively tugging at her tshirt.
Aashi, Vanu, and Kiku: “Mumma, neeche aao! Neeche aao!”
Bela immediately melted, dropping to her knees to match their eye level. The moment she did, the five-year-old trio launched a coordinated attack.
Mwaah! Mwaah! Mwaah! They planted wet, sloppy, and incredibly loud kisses all over Bela’s cheeks and forehead.
Aashi shoved a brightly colored, slightly crumpled piece of chart paper into Bela’s hands. “Mumma, mera card! Maine khud banaya hai!”
Bela opened it. It was a drawing of a giant stick figure wearing a massive blue police cap, holding what looked like a laser gun, surrounded by tiny, terrified stick figures.
Bela: (laughing, kissing Aashi’s cheek) “Yeh main hoon? Kitni strong lag rahi hoon. Thank you, Aashi. Best drawing ever.”
Vanu eagerly handed hers over next. It had a drawing of a very round, very fat animal wearing a crown.
Vanu: “Yeh Jungle ka Raja hai Mumma! Maine Lion banaya hai, Elephant nahi!”
Bela: (pulling Vanu into a tight hug) “Mera smart bacha! Yeh duniya ka sabse pyara lion hai.”
Kiku shyly handed her card. It had no drawings, just the numbers ‘5 – 2 = 3’ written in wobbly handwriting, with a bunch of shiny star stickers plastered everywhere.
Kiku: “Joy of Giving, Mumma! Aapko saari toffees dungi main.”
Bela kissed Kiku’s forehead, her eyes shining with tears. “Aww, meri Kiku. Mujhe toffees nahi chahiye, bas tumhari smile chahiye.”
Then, the three little ones exchanged a highly secretive, serious look. They reached into their tiny pajama pockets.
Aashi: “Mumma, humne aapke liye ek special gift bhi rakha hai. Humari sabse favorite cheezein!”
Aashi placed a bright pink, plastic butterfly ring on Bela’s palm.
Vanu carefully placed a very smooth, shiny white pebble she had clearly found in the garden.
And Kiku, with utmost sincerity, placed a slightly squished, half-melted chocolate bar in the center.
Kiku: “Aap jab thak jao, toh yeh kha lena!”
Bela stared at the plastic ring, the garden pebble, and the melted chocolate. For a woman who was used to receiving expensive gifts from her husband, these innocent, purely heartfelt treasures were priceless. She chuckled, a tear slipping down her cheek at their sheer innocence.
Bela: “Yeh meri life ke sabse expensive gifts hain. Main inhe hamesha sambhal ke rakhungi.”
Standing a few feet away, Khushi, Vanshu, and Akshu watched the scene unfold. They were smiling at the little ones pure love and cute efforts so hard their cheeks hurt, and Mahir had his arm proudly around his three little princesses. Seeing the usually tough, unyielding General completely surrender to the love of the little ones made all the stress, sleepless nights, and fake studying absolutely worth it.
But, as with all things in the Sehgal household, the peace was temporary.
The emotional moment was suddenly hijacked by the alluring scent of dark chocolate. The trio of five-year-olds turned their heads simultaneously toward the center table. The 3-tier “Pythagoras” cake sat there in all its glory, topped with edible gold flakes, chocolate curls, and a beautiful fondant police cap.
Kiku’s eyes widened. “Mera chocolate! Mujhe Mumma ki topi khani hai!”
She made a dash for the cake.
Aashi immediately grabbed Kiku’s frock. “Nahi! Topi meri hai! Maine sabse acha card banaya tha! Tu star kha le!”
Vanu pushed her way into the center. “Nahi! Main sabse bada wala chocolate curl khaungi!Wo meri favourite h!”
The elder trio, who had been watching affectionately just seconds ago, suddenly snapped out of their emotional daze. The sight of the delicious cake toppings triggered their own inner children.
Khushi: “Oye! Peeche hato! Main itne dino se drill kar kar ke thak gayi hoon, mujhe sabse zyada chocolate chahiye!”
Vanshu: “Excuse me?! Mehnat sabne ki h! Gold flakes mere hain!”
Akshu stepped right in front of Aashi, blocking the little girl’s path to the fondant police cap.
Akshu: “Chutki, peeche hat ja. Topi main khaungi. Yeh idea mera tha. ”
Aashi put her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. The ‘friendship’ was officially over. The truce had expired.
Aashi: “Nahi dungi! Aapka idea tha toh kya hua.. Aap toh waise bhi badi ho, choton ko dena chahiye!”
Akshu: “Acha ji? Jab kaam nikalwana tha tab ‘Akshu didi bohot achi hain’. Ab main badi ho gayi?”
Aashi: “Aap raat ko mumma ke lights off bolne ke baad laptop leke baithe rehte ho, mumma ko bata du?”
Akshu: “Haww! Tu meri secret baatein leak kar rahi hai?!”
Khushi and Vanshu were now actively trying to guard the sides of the cake from Kiku and Vanu, who were attempting a flanking maneuver to steal the chocolate curls.
Khushi: “Kiku, maths yaad kar! Subtract the hands from the cake!”
Vanu: “Main bite kar lungi!”
Bela and Mahir stood back, watching the utter chaos erupt in their living room. The beautiful, touching moment had dissolved into a full-scale territorial war over fondant and chocolate within thirty seconds.
Bela crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Mahir.
Bela: “Aur aap keh rahe the ‘shanti ka matlab toofan nahi hota’?”
Mahir chuckled, wrapping his arm around Bela’s waist and kissing the side of her head as they watched Akshu and Aashi literally lock horns over the cake table.
Mahir: “Toofan toh hai, Bela. Par yeh humara apna toofan hai. Happy Birthday, General Sahiba. Welcome back to reality.”
The cake war was escalating fast. Akshu’s hand was dangerously close to the fondant police cap, while Aashi was actively trying to climb the center table. Vanu and Kiku were successfully executing a pincer movement toward the chocolate curls.
Suddenly, a loud, commanding clap echoed through the living room.
Bela: “PEECHE HATO SAB!”
The sheer authority in her voice made all six girls freeze mid-action. Akshu dropped her hand, and Aashi quickly slid off the table. The General was back.
Bela stepped forward, picking up the large cake knife like it was a sword. She pointed it at the sofa.
Bela: “Line banano. Height wise. Abhi ke abhi. Kisi ne cake ko haath lagane ki koshish ki toh usko cake ka ek bite bhi nhi milega.”
That threat was enough. The six girls immediately scrambled backward, forming a straight line from Team Aashvi to Team Unstoppable standing in pin-drop silence.
Bela shook her head, trying to suppress a smile at their terrified obedience. She pulled the cake closer and began her precise, mathematical distribution.
Bela: “Fondant cap… iske exact che (six) tukde honge. Gold flakes, equally divide honge. Ek gram bhi chocolate idhar-udhar nahi hogi.”
She expertly sliced the cake, putting exactly one piece of the fondant cap, two chocolate curls, and an equal sprinkle of gold flakes onto six different plates. She handed them out one by one.
Bela: “Kiku, yeh tumhara. Aashi, tumhara. Akshu, chup chap khao, Aashi ki plate mein nahi jhaankna.”
Once the six plates were distributed, the room filled with the happy, messy sounds of children devouring chocolate. The war was officially over.
Bela sighed in relief and turned around to put the knife down. But as she turned, she bumped into someone standing right behind Vanshu, completing the height-wise queue.
It was Mahir.
He was holding an empty paper plate with both hands, blinking at her with wide, innocent puppy-dog eyes.
Mahir: (in a soft, dramatic voice) “Bela ji… mera number kab aayega? Main toh sabse acha bacha hoon. Mujhe bhi ‘Geometry Box’ chahiye.”
The kids paused their eating and burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Akshu: “Hahaha! Sir ki height sabse lambi hai, isliye last mein khade hain!”
Aashi: “Papa, aapko toh pehle table sunana padega, tab cake milega!”
Vanu: (pointing a chocolate-covered finger) “Papa badmash bache ban gaye!”
Bela tried to maintain her strict glare, but Mahir’s ridiculous pout was too much. She let out a loud laugh, shaking her head as she cut a generous slice for him.
Bela: “Aap toh in che shaitano ke sardar (leader) hain. Lijiye apna cake.”
Mahir took the plate, winking at the kids. He absolutely loved the chaos. This loud, messy, laughter-filled living room was his favorite place on earth.
However, the moment of peace was short-lived. As the kids and Mahir happily stuffed their faces, Bela’s maternal, health-conscious instincts suddenly kicked in. She looked at the clock. It was morning.
Bela: (crossing her arms, pacing slightly) “Waise tum sabko pata hai na ki subah subah, khali pet (empty stomach) itni heavy sugar aur refined flour khana health ke liye kitna kharab hai? Isme nutrition zero hai. Pura din energy crash hogi tumhari.”
The kids exchanged glances, mid-chew. The lecture had begun.
Bela: “Roz subah main sprouts, oats, poha aur doodh deti hoon taaki dimaag chale. Aur aaj? Seedha dark chocolate truffle? Tumhara glucose level spike ho jayega! Aur Team Aashvi, tumhare daant (teeth) kharab ho jayenge. Mahir ji, aap bhi inke sath shamil ho gaye? You know better!”
Mahir: (muffled, mouth full of cake) “Birthday hai, Bela… ek din toh chalta hai.”
Bela: “Ek din ki carelessness se hi aadat bigadti hai. Yeh koi proper breakfast nahi hai. Iske baad sab log ek-ek bowl fruit salad khayenge, am I clear?”
All Six Kids (actually Seven)groaned collectively
Bela finished her rant, feeling thoroughly satisfied that she had imparted her daily dose of discipline. She walked over to the table and picked up the final, remaining plate of cake that she had cut for herself. It was, notably, the largest slice of them all, loaded with extra chocolate truffle cream.
She picked up a fork and took a massive bite.
Instantly, her eyes widened. The rich, decadent chocolate melted perfectly on her tongue. The strict lines on her forehead vanished, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated bliss. She closed her eyes, letting out a soft “Mmm” of satisfaction, completely forgetting her lecture from three seconds ago. She took another huge bite immediately.
Akshu nudged Vanshu, pointing at Bela.
Akshu: (whispering loudly) “Guys, dekho. ‘Glucose spike’ aur ‘Health hazard’ ko bada maza aa raha hai.”
Vanshu: “Abhi toh lecture de rahi thi ab dekho kaise maze aa rahe h inko.. Saare rules sirf humare liye hi hote h inke.”
Khushi: “Proper breakfast bhool gayi General Sahiba.”
Aashi: (giggling) “Mumma ne sabse bada piece liya hai!”
Bela opened her eyes, catching all seven of them staring at her with highly amused, teasing grins. She froze with the fork halfway to her mouth.
Bela: (glaring playfully, trying to salvage her dignity) “Kya dekh rahe ho? Main… main taste test kar rahi hoon. Aur.. Aur waise bhi aaj mera birthday h.. I can have it.”
Mahir chuckled loudly, throwing an arm around her shoulder and kissing her temple.
Mahir: “Of course, Pura tumhara hi h… In fact, thoda aur le lijiye, aaj isme koi kami honi chahiye.”
Bela swatted his arm, her cheeks turning slightly pink, but she couldn’t hide her wide, chocolate-stained smile. She took another massive bite, finally giving in to the sweetness of the cake, the morning, and her perfectly imperfect family.
___________________________________________
To be continued..
Do vote, and share your views through the comments, I would love to know what you guys want to read in the next part.
Write a comment ...