So let's begin,
-
The Presentation - 9:45 AM
Once the cake was distributed and everyone had chocolate smeared on their faces (including Bela), the atmosphere shifted from hyper to emotional.
Akshu: "Okay, Team. Time for the 'Final Assignment'."
The trio glanced at teach other a silent, nervous conversation passing between them, Khushi walked over to the old harmonium case and pulled out a heavy package wrapped in a simple, elegant red ribbon. She walked back and stood in front of Bela, flanked by her sisters.
Khushi: (her voice suddenly serious and soft) "Ma'am... humara initial budget bohot tha. Humne socha watch lein, designer kapde lein... par phir humein realize hua ki woh sab toh aap khud ya sir aapko de sakte hain."
She held out the heavy leather-bound book.
Khushi: "Aap humesha kehti hain na ki 'Efforts matter more than anything'. Toh yeh humari mehnat hai. Humara dil hai."
Bela took the book. It was heavy. The vintage leather felt soft under her fingers. She undid the ribbon and unclasped the brass lock.
The heavy cover fell open.
The first page wasn't a collage or a photograph. It was a single, thick cream-colored sheet, filled with Khushi's neatest, most deliberate cursive handwriting.
Bela: "Yeh..."
Khushi: "Lafz (words) mere hain, Ma'am. Par aawaz hum teeno ki hai. Akshu, Vanshu, aur meri. Yeh humari taraf se aapke liye hai."
Bela looked down at the page. The room was so quiet that the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioner. She began to read silently, but the words carried so much weight that she felt an overwhelming need to hear them.
Her voice, usually crisp and commanding, came out as a soft, trembling whisper.
Bela: (reading aloud)
"Wardi mein wo desh ka maan lagti hai,
Par ek bacche ki nazar se dekho toh bas Maa lagti hain.
Bahar se toofan si sakht, andar se chhaon si narm,
Duniya unhe sakht kehti hai...
Par humare liye woh hamesha humari dhaal lagti hain.
Jab hum girte hain, aap haath nahi, raasta dikhati hain,
Humari aukaat se zyada, humse umeed lagati hain.
Khoon ka rishta toh nahi humara, yeh duniya sach kehti hai,
Par aap kisi 'Guardian Angel' se kam bhi nahi, yeh humari dhadkan kehti hai.
Jab chot humein lagti hai, toh neend aapki bhi udti hai, dikhati nhi aap par fikr aapko bhi hoti h,
Hitler wale mask ke peeche, ek Maa ki mamta chhupati hai.
Hum akele the, bikhre the, andheron se dare huye the,
Aapne sirf ghar nahi diya, humein jeena sikhaya hai,
Teen tooti hui zindagiyon ko, apne haathon se sajaya hai.
Aap guru(teacher) h jo galatiyon pe daantti hai,
Aap Guardian h jo har toofan ko baant-ti hai.
Khushi ki kalam hai, par Akshu aur Vanshu ki aawaz hai,
Aap jaisi 'General' mili humein... is baat ka humein naaz (pride) hai.
Koi rishta toh nahi tha humara... phir bhi aap humse dil lagati hain.
Humari zidd se ladkar, dande ka dar dikhakar humse har baat manwaati hai...
Aap hi humein is ghar tak laayi thi.
Par aaj sochte hain...
Aakhir kaise hum par itna haq jata leti hain?
Sirf ek guru toh yeh sab nahi kar sakta...
Zaroor us sakhti ke peeche koi mamta chhupi hai.
Jo humein daantne ke baad khud bhi afsos karti hai,
Raat ko chupke se humari chot par dawa lagati hai...
Aur subah phir apni aankhon ka dar dikhati hai.
Koi toh rishta hai... jiska shayad koi naam nahi.
Duniya chahe ise guru-shishya(teacher-student) ka bandhan kahe,
Par humein yun dil se apnane wali,
Humein duniya ki seekh dene wali...
Sirf ek guru toh nahi ho sakti.
Kabhi hukm chalati hain,
Kabhi sar par haath rakh deti hain,
Humari har zid par apna ek usool lagati hain,
Kabhi kadam ladkhadaye toh deewar ban kar khadi hoti hain,
Kabhi hausla tootne lage toh awaaz ban kar saath chalti hain.
Aapki daant mein bhi ek ajeeb si dua hoti hai,
Jo humein girne se pehle hi sambhaal leti hai.
Agar kabhi hum udaan bhar paye,
Toh un paron ki taqat aap hongi.
Agar kabhi hum jeet kar muskuraaye,
Toh us jeet ke peeche khadi aap hi hongi.
Isliye aaj sirf ek baat kehna chahte hain...
Wardi ne shayad aapko 'General' banaya hoga,
Par aapke dil ne humein apna bana liya.
Aur yahi rishta... humari zindagi ka sabse bada samman hai. ✨
The room descended into a silence so profound that the soft hum of the air conditioner felt deafening.
The heavy leather-bound book trembled slightly in Bela's hands. She stood absolutely still, her eyes glued to the thick cream-colored paper, though her vision was completely blurred by the unshed tears pooling in her eyes. She was fighting a losing battle against her own emotions, her jaw clenched tight as she tried to swallow the heavy lump forming in her throat. The 'General' was trying desperately to hold the frontline.
A few feet away, the trio stood frozen. Their hearts were hammering against their ribs with a deafening rhythm. Did it work? Did we cross a line? Is she angry? Khushi's breath hitched. She looked down, nervously picking at the edges of her nails - a habit that surfaced whenever she was anxious.
Akshu stood beside her, unusually quiet. The girl who could argue with the world was suddenly staring at the floor, blinking rapidly to keep the moisture from spilling over.
Vanshu had her hands clasped tightly behind her back, jaw locked, trying to maintain composure-but her eyes were already glassy, waiting for a verdict that felt heavier than any board exam result.
Mahir stood leaning against the edge of the dining table, his arms crossed. He wasn't looking at the kids; his gaze was fixed entirely on his wife. A serene, deeply emotional smile played on his lips. He saw the exact moment the invincible SHO dropped her shield. He knew she was completely, utterly defeated by love.
He knew exactly what those words had done.
Because he knew Bela.
Even the chaotic "Team Aashvi" was unnervingly quiet. Aashi, Vanu, and Kiku didn't understand the heavy vocabulary of the poem-words like samman, usool, and shishya flew right over their heads. But children possess a raw instinct for emotional frequencies. Seeing their formidable mother standing frozen, and their usually rebellious older sisters looking so vulnerable, Aashi quietly reached out and held Kiku's hand, watching the scene with wide, quiet eyes.
Bela's POV
For a few seconds after the last line left my lips, the room ceased to exist.
The diary remained open in my hands, but I wasn't looking at the pages anymore. I was staring at the words as if they were still alive, still moving, still echoing somewhere deep inside my chest.
The silence around me grew heavy-so heavy that even the faint hum of the air conditioner sounded distant.
I could feel everyone watching.
Waiting.
But my body refused to respond.
My fingers tightened slightly around the leather cover of the diary. It suddenly felt far heavier than it had a moment ago-not because of its weight, but because of what it carried.
Those words.
Their words.
Wardi mein wo desh ka maan lagti hai...
Par ek bacche ki nazar se dekho toh bas Maa lagti hain...
The line replayed in my mind, softer this time, but sharper.
My throat constricted.
I swallowed immediately, forcing the emotion back down before it could surface.
No.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
I had spent my entire life building walls strong enough to withstand storms-discipline, composure, control. A General does not lose control in the middle of her own living room.
But the words kept echoing.
Teen tooti hui zindagiyon ko, apne haathon se sajaya hai...
Three broken lives.
The phrase struck somewhere deeper than I expected.
My eyes dropped back to the page instinctively, but I wasn't reading anymore. I was remembering.
For a brief moment, the three girls standing in front of me faded, replaced by older memories.
Khushi-standing stubbornly at the corridor the first time I met her, chin lifted in defiance even though exhaustion was written across her face that day due to journey, protective and emotional.
Akshu-loud, impulsive, ready to argue with anyone who questioned her strength. Yet behind that bravado had been a child who hated the idea of appearing weak.
And Vanshu-quiet, observant, cautious with every word she spoke. She had watched the world carefully, as if expecting it to collapse the moment she trusted it.
Three girls pretending they didn't need anyone.
Three girls who had learned to survive without depending on anyone.
And somehow-without any announcement, without any formal declaration-they had slowly found their way into my life.
Into my house.
Into my routine.
Into my responsibility.
I had never planned it.
I had never consciously chosen it.
But somewhere between enforcing rules, confiscating phones, dragging them out of bed for school, scolding them for unfinished assignments, punishing them, hitting them and checking on them when they thought no one was watching-
They had stopped being just students.
And started becoming something dangerously close to family.
My jaw tightened.
I blinked once, forcing the blur out of my vision.
Hitler wale mask ke peeche, ek Maa ki mamta chhupati hai...
A breath escaped my nose before I could stop it.
Hitler.
Of course they would write that.
The corner of my mouth twitched involuntarily before I pressed my lips together again.
I could feel the warmth behind my eyes now, threatening to rise. My instincts reacted instantly. My shoulders straightened, my grip on the diary steadied, and I drew in a slow, controlled breath.
No.
Crying was not an option.
A General could shout.
Punish.
Command.
But she could not cry in front of the very soldiers she was meant to steady.
I lowered my gaze to the diary again and closed it slowly.
The soft thud of the leather cover meeting itself sounded far louder than it should have in the silent room.
Only then did I lift my eyes.
And that was when I saw them.
Three girls standing in front of me-suddenly unsure of themselves.
Khushi's fingers were twisting together nervously, her eyes darting between my face and the floor. The girl who could argue with the entire world against anything wrong done, now looked like she was waiting for a verdict.
Akshu, who never stayed quiet for more than ten seconds, was staring down at the carpet, chewing the inside of her cheek-a habit she only had when she was anxious.
Vanshu stood stiffly beside them, her hands clasped tightly behind her back as if holding herself together.
They looked... scared.
Not of punishment.
Not of anger.
But of rejection.
The realization hit me harder than any line in that poem.
They weren't waiting for appreciation.
They were waiting to see if I would accept what they had written.
If I would accept the place they had given me in their lives.
My chest tightened painfully.
Pagal bachhe...
My gaze shifted briefly toward Mahir.
He was standing a few steps away, watching the entire scene unfold with a calm, knowing expression. There was a softness in his eyes-a quiet understanding that made it impossible to pretend forever.
He knew exactly what those words had done to me.
Because he knew the version of me that existed beneath the uniform, beneath the authority.
The version that never allowed itself to be seen.
My fingers brushed over the closed diary again, almost unconsciously.
For years, strength had meant distance.
Authority.
Control.
But this-
This was something entirely different.
This was trust.
And trust, I realized in that moment, carried far more weight than discipline ever could.
I exhaled slowly, forcing the tension out of my chest before it betrayed me.
Then finally, I spoke.
My voice came out quieter than usual, the edges rougher than I intended.
"Khushi."
All three of them looked up instantly.
Their eyes were fixed on me now.
Waiting.
Searching.
I looked at them properly this time.
Three girls who had no blood relation to me.
And yet somehow had claimed a place in my life that no rulebook had prepared me for.
I swallowed once more and forced my voice back into its usual steadiness.
"You wrote this?"
Khushi nodded quickly.
"Y.. Yes... Ma'am."
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
For a moment, I looked down at the album again.
Then back at them.
And despite every effort to maintain the General's composure-
A small smile escaped me.
Soft.
Helpless.
Real.
"Pagal ho tum teeno."
The collective exhale from the three teenagers was so loud it could have powered a windmill.
Khushi's shoulders dropped a full two inches, Akshu let out a shaky breath that sounded half like a laugh and half like a sob, and Vanshu finally unclasped her hands from behind her back, breathing a sigh of relief.
The General hadn't scolded them for crossing a line. She hadn't lectured them on being overly dramatic. She had accepted it.
Bela, recognizing the sheer panic that had been gripping them, instantly drew upon her years of training as an SHO to lock her overwhelming emotions back into a perfectly sealed vault. She cleared her throat, her posture straightening as she expertly slipped the 'General' mask back on, though the edges of it were undeniably softer now.
She ran her fingers over the leather cover, looking at Khushi with a raised eyebrow and her classic, deadpan expression.
Bela: "Rhyming scheme theek thi. Emotion bhi kaafi the. Par Khushi... agar itni deep vocabulary aur creativity tumne apne Hindi aur English ke essays mein use ki hoti, toh shayad kal surprise test mein mujhe tumhari spelling mistakes pe red pen na chalana padta."
The tension in the room snapped instantly, replaced by a wave of relieved, watery giggles.
Khushi: (wiping her eyes and grinning sheepishly) "Ma'am, exam mein syllabus aata hai, aur yahan... yahan dil se likha tha. Out of syllabus tha na."
Bela: (shaking her head, fighting a smile) "Humesha ek jawab taiyaar rehta hai tumhare pass haina."
She reopened the diary, deliberately shifting the focus away from herself to give her heart a minute to stop hammering. She slowly turned the thick cream pages, moving past the poem.
The next few pages were a chaotic, beautiful explosion of their lives. Photographs were taped neatly (and sometimes not so neatly) to the paper.
Bela's eyes scanned the polaroids, the pictures of Team Aashvi's childhood and the picture of Team Unstoppable with trophies and medals on the competition day.
Beneath each photo, handwritten captions narrated the story.
Bela stopped at a page covered in excessive glitter and slightly crooked stickers. A silver star sticker was plastered directly over her forehead in one of the photos.
Bela: (looking up at Team Aashvi) "Yeh decoration kis department ki hai? Aur yeh star mere sarr pe kyu chipkaya hai?"
Kiku: (bouncing proudly) "Maine kiya! Kyunki aap humari police star ho!"
Bela: (softening, brushing her thumb over the sticker) "Bohot creative hai, Kiku. Thank you mera baccha."
She turned to the middle page.
Beneath there was a neat, perfectly aligned black-and-white square sticker.
Bela frowned, adjusting the diary to look closer.
Bela: "Yeh kya hai? Kisi restaurant ka QR code menu chipka diya hai kya galti se?"
The playful atmosphere instantly vanished for Akshu.
Akshu's breath hitched. Her eyes widened, and a sudden wave of sheer terror washed over her face. This was it. Her domain. Her contribution.
She reached out blindly, grabbing Khushi's left hand and Vanshu's right hand in a death grip. Khushi winced slightly but didn't pull away, feeling how sweaty and cold Akshu's palms had suddenly become.
Akshu: (voice trembling, sounding like a soldier reporting to a five-star general) "N-Nahi Ma'am. Wo... wo menu nahi hai. Wo digital integration hai. Mera... mera final project hai."
Bela: (looking at Akshu's terrified face, amused) "Project? Relax Akshu, interview nahi chal raha hai. Kya karna hai iska?"
Akshu: (squeezing her sisters' hands tighter) "Aapko... aapko apne phone camera se isko scan karna padega. Ek video play hogi. Maine banayi hai. Editing... aur voiceovers ke saath."
Mahir, who had been silently enjoying the show, stepped forward and handed Bela her unlocked phone with the scanner app open.
Mahir: (winking at Akshu) "Scan it, Bela. Our tech-genius has been losing sleep over this."
Bela held the phone over the page. The camera caught the code, and a prompt appeared on the screen: Open YouTube Link?
She tapped it. The screen went black for a second as the video buffered.
Akshu squeezed her eyes shut, muttering a silent prayer. To her, this wasn't just a birthday video. She had spent hours color-correcting, syncing the audio, adding cinematic transitions, and carefully selecting the background score. If the timing was off, or if Bela didn't like the background music, Akshu felt like her entire identity as the 'editing queen' would shatter. She stood there, flanked by Khushi and Vanshu, bracing herself as the first piano chord of the video echoed softly from the phone's speakers.
The screen of the phone flipped to landscape mode.
Bela's POV:
The video didn't just start; it faded in with a cinematic grace that instantly caught me off guard. A soft, acoustic piano melody filled the quiet living room-the instrumental track of a familiar, deeply emotional song.
My eyes were glued to the screen, but from the corner of my vision, I could see Akshu. She was holding Khushi and Vanshu's hands so tightly her knuckles were turning white. She looked like she was standing in a courtroom waiting for a life sentence.
I deliberately kept my face completely blank. Not a muscle twitched. Not a smile. Not a frown. Just the classic, unreadable 'SHO' mask. I could practically hear their collective heartbeats accelerating with every second of my silence.
On the screen, the first shot appeared. It was a slow-motion, beautifully color-graded clip of me walking down the stairs in my uniform, adjusting my watch.
Text faded onto the screen in an elegant font: The World Sees The General.
The music swelled slightly, and the scene cut abruptly to a chaotic, shaky-cam footage I didn't even know existed. It was me in the kitchen, wearing an apron over my tracksuit, furiously rolling parathas while yelling at them and Team Aashvi.
The text changed: But we see our Anchor.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop the smile from breaking through. Akshu's editing was flawless. She had synced the cuts perfectly with the beats of the music.
Then came the voiceovers.
The screen showed a montage of Team Aashvi.
Kiku's voice (muffled, as if recorded secretly): "Mumma police hain, par wo chor ko nahi, humari cavities ko arrest karti hain jab hum chocolate khate hain!"
Vanu's sweet, sleepy voice: "Mujhe toh lagta hai Mummy ke paas magic stick hai. Mere toote hue toys subah tak jud jate hain."
Aashi's confident voice: "Duniya mai sabse strong humari Mumma hai. Wo Papa ko bhi daant sakti hain!"
A brief shot of Mahir appeared-he was standing behind me while I was checking test papers, looking at me with such overwhelming affection that it made my heart skip a beat right there in the living room.
I kept my face absolutely stoic. I didn't even blink.
Outwardly, I was a statue. Inwardly, I was completely blown away. The transitions, the audio mixing, the emotional pacing-it was professional. It was brilliant. Akshu hadn't just made a video; she had woven our lives into a masterpiece.
The music slowed down, turning poignant. The funny clips faded, replaced by quieter, raw moments.
Vanshu's voiceover: "Jab humein khud pe vishwas nahi tha, tab aapne humein vishwas dilaya. Thank you for not giving up on us, Ma'am. Happy birthday to you."
Khushi's voiceover: "Hume aapne sirf ghar nahi diya, jeena sikhaya h. Ek nayi zindagi h.. Thank you so much for everything.. Happy birthday Ma'am."
And finally, Akshu's voice-steady, clear, and thick with emotion.
"Log kehte hain blood is thicker than water. Par hum kehte hain, love is thicker than anything. Wardi (Uniform) ne aapko officer banaya hoga, par aapke dil ne humein apna bana liya. Happy Birthday to our safe haven."
The screen faded to black.
A final line of text appeared in pure white:
Directed, Edited, and Rendered by your biggest headache: Akshika.
The video ended, and the YouTube interface popped back up.
The silence in the living room rushed back in, thicker and more suffocating than before.
I slowly lowered the phone. I didn't look up immediately. I let the silence stretch for five, ten, fifteen seconds.
I finally raised my head.
My chest tightened unexpectedly.
This wasn't just a birthday video.
This was her work.
Her craft.
Her identity.
And right now-
She was waiting to see if it had passed inspection.
I took a slow breath.
Carefully.
Then looked at her again.
The video had done something far more dangerous.
It had shown me something I usually refused to see.
How they saw me.
Not as authority.
Not as discipline.
But as something much harder to live up to.
Something... trusted.
The trio looked like they were about to pass out. Khushi was biting her lip so hard it was turning white. Vanshu had stopped breathing entirely. And Akshu... Akshu looked like she was bracing for a court-martial. Her eyes were wide, darting across my blank face, searching desperately for a clue.
She's the team leader, I thought to myself, a sudden, mischievous urge rising within me to test this soldier's nerves. Let's see how she handles the pressure.
I kept my voice completely flat, channeling my best interrogation room tone.
Bela: "Akshu."
Akshu flinched, her voice coming out as a tiny squeak. "Y-Yes Ma'am?"
Bela: "Yeh video... tumne khud edit ki hai"
Akshu: (nodding frantically) "J-Ji Ma'am. P-Puri raat lag gayi rendering mein. Maine kisi aur ki help nahi li, I swear."
I took a slow, deliberate step forward. I crossed my arms, looking her dead in the eye.
Bela: "Color grading ek scene mein thodi dark thi. Ek shot ka focus out tha. Aur audio mixing mein background score Kiku ki aawaz ko thoda overpower kar raha tha."
I watched as Akshu's face fell instantly. Her shoulders slumped, the light in her eyes dimming. The 'editing queen' had been critiqued by the General. Khushi and Vanshu looked horrified, ready to jump in and defend their sister's hard work.
Mahir, who knew me better than anyone, was standing by the couch, covering his mouth with his hand to physically stop himself from laughing. He knew exactly what I was doing.
Akshu looked down at the carpet, her voice trembling. "I'm... I'm sorry, Ma'am. Mujhe time kam mila aur system slow tha. Main... main isse better-"
I didn't let her finish.
The 'SHO' mask finally cracked, shattering into a thousand pieces as a wide, incredibly proud, and tearful smile broke across my face.
Bela: "Par transitions, pacing, aur emotions... absolutely Oscar-worthy the. Ek dum flawless. I was just kidding.. It's perfect."
Akshu's head snapped up so fast I thought she might get whiplash.
"K-Kya?" she whispered, her brain struggling to process the sudden 180-degree turn.
Bela: (laughing, the sound watery but bright) "Pagal ladki! Tum sach mein darr gayi thi? Tumhara kaam perfect tha. Yeh video... yeh mere paas zindagi bhar ke liye save rahegi. Yeh masterpiece hai, Akshu."
For a full three seconds, Akshu just stared at me. Then, her brain finally caught up to the fact that she had just been played by the master.
Akshu: (letting go of her sisters' hands and clutching her chest) "M-Ma'am! Mujhe heart attack aa jata abhi! Aapne toh meri jaan hi nikal di thi! Mujhe laga mera pura career shuru hone se pehle khatam ho gaya!"
Khushi: "Aap bohot buri hain! Humari saansein atki hui thi aur aap humare saath mind games khel rahi thi!"
Vanshu: (exhaling a massive breath) "General Sahiba ka interrogation mode kabhi off nahi hota."
Bela chuckled giving her signature smirk.
Bela: "Aadat se majboor hoon. Par sach mein... thank you. Akshu, tumhari editing... Khushi, tumhari poem... aur meri Team Aashvi ka itna pyara decoration."
I looked at Mahir, who was smiling so softly it made my heart ache all over again.
Bela: "Aur is pure operation ke mastermind ko bhi... thank you. Aaj ka din maine jitna socha tha, usse lakh guna zyada khoobsurat tha."
Akshu: (her voice shaking but the relief evident in her voice) "Toh... mere editing skills pass ho gaye?"
Bela: (smiling) "Pass nahi, Distinction ke sath top kiya hai tumne."
Akshu let out a joyful, triumphant whoop, the tension completely draining from the room, replaced once again by the loud, chaotic, and perfect energy of the Sehgal family.
The emotional high of the video was still humming in the air when Mahir cleared his throat, stepping closer to Bela wrapping his arms around her shoulder.
Mahir: "General Sahiba, inspection abhi khatam nahi hui hai. Akshu ka tech department clear ho gaya, Khushi ka literature department bhi pass ho gaya... par abhi bhi kuch baaki hai. Last page."
At those words, the remaining color drained completely from Vanshu's face.
She instinctively took a half-step back, her hand gripping the hem of her tshirt -her classic nervous tic. While Khushi's poem had the power of words, and Akshu's video had the magic of music and motion, Vanshu's contribution was silent. It was just charcoal on paper. Black and white. Static.
What if it looks amateurish? Vanshu thought, her heart hammering against her ribs. Ma'am ki observation skills itni sharp hain, unhe ek-ek flaw dikh jayega. Shading perfect nahi hai... Sir ki naak thodi ajeeb lag rahi thi... Kya yeh video aur poem ke level ka hai bhi?
Bela, catching that subtle half-step back and the anxious gripping of tshirt and immediately understood whose turn it was.
Bela offered Vanshu a soft, reassuring smile, and gently turned to the very last, thick cream-colored page.
Her breath hitched.
The soft smile on her lips vanished, replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated shock.
Bela: "My God..."
It wasn't just a sketch. It was a captured heartbeat.
There, spanning the entire page, was a charcoal portrait of her and Mahir. It was based on a candid photograph from months ago, but Vanshu had breathed a raw, visceral life into it that no camera ever could. The contrast of the stark black charcoal against the cream paper was striking.
Bela stared, completely awestruck, at the detailing. The way Vanshu had captured the crinkle at the corner of Mahir's eyes when he looked at her. The way the light seemed to genuinely reflect off Bela's own hair in the drawing. But what mesmerized her the most was the expression she wore in the sketch-it wasn't the strict SHO, nor the stern teacher. It was a woman caught in a moment of pure, unfiltered joy, laughing at something Mahir had said.
Bela's POV
My fingers hovered over the page, terrified that even a breath might smudge the masterpiece.
Charcoal. I knew enough about art to know how unforgiving this medium was. One wrong stroke, one heavy-handed smudge, and the entire piece could be ruined. Yet, the shading here was so smooth, so agonizingly meticulous, that it looked three-dimensional.
My mind flashed back to a few nights ago.
"Ma'am, Benzene ka structure draw kar rahi thi. Hexagonal shape perfect nahi aa raha."
She had slammed her hand down on her notebook to hide this. While I was patrolling the hallways, demanding discipline and sleep, this quiet, brilliant girl was sitting under a dim desk lamp, her fingers covered in black dust, pouring hours of back-breaking effort into capturing my smile.
The level of patience required for this... the sheer, raw talent it took to translate human emotion onto a blank page using nothing but a burnt stick of wood. It was staggering.
I let my eyes wander to the bottom right corner. There, written with an elegant, artistic flourish, was her signature: a stylized 'Vanshika.'
A surge of overwhelming pride swelled in my chest. This wasn't just a hobby. This was a gift. A profound, God-given talent that needed to be nurtured, protected, and showcased to the world. And she had used it for me.
I didn't want this hidden in a closed diary. I wanted this framed. I wanted it hung in the center of the living room so that every person who walked through our doors would know the genius of my student.
The silence had stretched for a full minute. For Vanshu, it felt like a century.
Vanshu: (voice barely above a whisper, trembling) "Shading... shading thodi rough hai Ma'am. Aur time kam tha toh... agar aapko pasand nahi aaya toh main..."
Bela finally looked up. Her eyes, still shining with unshed tears from earlier, were now wide with fierce admiration.
Bela: "Pasand nahi aaya? Vanshu... tum... tum isey rough keh rahi ho?"
She gently placed the diary open on the table and walked straight toward Vanshu. She didn't offer a critique. She didn't use her teacher voice.
She reached out, cupping Vanshu's face with both hands, her thumbs gently brushing the girl's cheeks.
Bela: "Yeh kisi professional artist ke kaam se kam nahi hai, Vanshu. The depth, the emotion... tumne charocal se us paper mein jaan daal di hai. Mujhe toh lagta hi nahi ki main itni khubsurat dikhti hoon, jitna tumne mujhe isme banaya hai."
Vanshu's breath hitched, her eyes widening behind her thick frames.
"S-Sach mein?"
Bela: "Sach mein. Mujhe yaad hai tumne Benzene ring ka bahana banaya tha. Tum jaanti thi agar mujhe jhooth ka pata chalta toh daant deti. Phir bhi tumne mere liye itna bada risk liya. Itni mehnat ki."
Bela leaned in, pressing a long, deeply affectionate kiss to Vanshu's forehead.
Bela: "Yeh diary mein nahi rahega. Kal hi main isey ek bade, anti-glare glass frame mein set karwaungi. Yeh humare kamre ki sabse main wall pe lagega. Taaki jab bhi main subah uthun, mujhe yaad rahe ki mere ghar mein ek chupa hua (hidden) Picasso rehta hai."
Vanshu's lower lip trembled. The validation she had been holding her breath for washed over her like a warm wave. The anxiety melted away, replaced by a radiant, tearful smile that reached all the way to her eyes.
Vanshu: (hugging Bela tightly) "Thank you, Ma'am. Bas aapko acha lagna chahiye tha."
Akshu: (wiping her own eyes, grinning) "Dekha Vanshu? Maine kaha tha na, The General pighal jayengi!"
Khushi: (sniffling) "Humara mission 100% successful raha. General out!"
Bela wrapped her arm around Vanshu, looking at the entire group. Khushi's words, Akshu's video, Vanshu's art, and the little ones' innocent decorations.
Bela: "Tum teeno ne apni alag-alag taqat ka use karke ek aisi chiz banayi hai jiski koi keemat (price) nahi laga sakta. Tumne saabit kar diya ki jab tum teeno ek team banti hain, toh who kuch bhi achieve kar sakti hain. I am so, so proud of you all."
Bela didn't just stop at praising the sketch. The overwhelming wave of love, pride, and gratitude she felt for these three girls completely shattered whatever remained of her strict exterior.
Bela: "Idhar aao dono waha kyu khade ho. Koi punishment nhi di h maine abhi"
She didn't wait for them to move. She stepped forward and pulled Akshu, and Khushi also into a fierce, crushing embrace. The three teenagers melted into her arms instantly, burying their faces in her shoulders, the relief and joy finally spilling over into quiet, happy tears. Bela held them tight, her hands gently stroking their hair, anchoring them just as they had anchored her.
From a few feet away, "Team Aashvi" was watching this emotional display. For a solid thirty seconds, they observed the older trio hogging all of their Mumma's attention.
Kiku's lower lip jutted out in a spectacular pout. Aashi crossed her little arms, narrowing her eyes. And vanu clenched her little fists at her sides.
Vanu: "Mumma hume bhool gayi."
Kiku: (stomping her foot) "Humari Mumma hai!"
Aashi: "Yess..sirf humari mumma.. Charge!"
Like three tiny, jealous missiles, Aashi, Vanu, and Kiku sprinted across the rug and crashed straight into the group. Vanu wrapped her arms tightly around Bela's knees, nearly throwing the General off balance. Kiku squeezed herself between Khushi and Bela, grabbing Bela's waist with an iron grip, while Aashi hugged Bela from the back.
Aashi: "Hum bhi best hain! Humne balloons lagaye hain!"
Bela let out a watery, breathless laugh, stumbling slightly under the combined weight of six kids clinging to her like koalas.
Bela: "Haan, meri jaan. Tum sab best ho. Mere 6 ajuube."
Mahir, who had been leaning against the sofa watching his entire universe clumped together in the middle of the living room, couldn't resist anymore. He walked over with a wide, serene smile.
Mahir: "Aur main? Mujhe bahar nikal diya apni team se?"
He wrapped his long arms around the entire chaotic bundle, enveloping Bela and all six girls in one massive, protective bear hug. For a few perfect moments, the Sehgal living room was nothing but pure, unadulterated warmth and laughter.
As they slowly detangled from the group hug, Mahir clapped his hands together, looking at Bela, a proud, satisfied grin on his face.
Mahir: "Toh, 'Operation Surprise Test' officially complete hua. Ab sawal yeh hai, General Sahiba... ki is khushi mein bacchon ko kya reward milne wala hai? Kyunki effort toh bohot laga hai."
Bela raised an eyebrow, the familiar spark returning to her eyes as she looked at her husband, then at the expectant faces of her six girls.
Mahir's question hung in the air. Six pairs of hopeful eyes instantly locked onto Bela.
Bela looked at the expectant faces around her. She picked up a napkin, slowly wiping a smudge of chocolate off Aashi's cheek, deliberately drawing out the suspense. The 'SHO' persona flickered back to life, but this time, the sternness in her eyes was dancing with amusement.
Bela: "Reward? Mehnat toh bohot ki hai. Par discipline bhi toh koi chiz hoti hai. Kal Monday hai. Tum sabke ke surprise tests chal rahe hain..."
Khushi's shoulders instantly slumped. "Lo, ho gaya. Reward mein 'Extra Maths Worksheet' milne wali hai."
Akshu groaned softly, and Vanshu sighed mentally thinking "Inka kuch nhi ho sakta", already calculating how many hours of study they had lost this morning. While the little one's seemed all ready to start their protests if the decision went against them.
Bela couldn't hold the act any longer. She burst into a bright, ringing laugh, shaking her head.
Bela: "Hey bhagwan, tum sabka bas chale toh tum mujhe sach mein Hitler declare kar do. Suno sab."
She stood up straight, her voice taking on an official, commanding tone, but a wide smile stretched across her face.
Bela: "So reward yeh h kii(she paused deliberately creating a suspense), aaj ke din... saare rules suspended h."
All 6 Kids: "Kya?!"
Bela: "Rule Number 1: Aaj koi kitabein (books) nahi khulengi.
Rule Number 2: Aaj diet chart cancel. Lunch mein jo khana h wo khao, aur dinner..."
She looked at Mahir, raising an eyebrow.
Mahir: (smiling proudly) "Dinner ka plan in bacchon ne pehle hi bana liya tha, Bela. Inhone apni pocket money aur savings se paise ikatthe kiye the. Tumhe tumhare favorite rooftop restaurant le jane ke liye. 'Team Sehgal' sponsor kar rahi thi."
Bela's breath hitched again. She looked at the three teenagers and her little toddlers, completely overwhelmed by their maturity and love.
Bela: "Tum logon ne apni savings meri birthday party ke liye nikal li?"
Akshu: (shrugging, smiling) "Aap pe 30,000 kya, 3 lakh bhi qurbaan hain, Ma'am. Hum independent organizers hain!"
Bela: (walking over and glaring her) "Tumhari yeh independent organizing committee bohot pyari hai. Par party ki star main hoon, toh bill bhi main dungi. Wo 30,000 tumhari aage ki education aur emergency fund mein wapas jayenge. Aur dinner hum waise hi karenge jaise tumne plan kiya tha. Rooftop. VIP table."
Vanshu looking helplessly at her sisters and gathering some courage, took a small, hesitant step forward.
Vanshu: "Actually, Ma'am... wo 30,000 emergency fund mein wapas nahi ja sakte."
Bela's smile faltered slightly. "Kyun nahi ja sakte?"
Vanshu: (gulping) "Kyunki... table already pre-book ho chuki hai. Aur payment bhi advanced aur non-refundable hai."
Bela's eyes widened, the SHO persona snapping back into place. She crossed her arms, fixing the three teenagers with a stern glare.
Bela: "Tum teeno ka dimaag kharab hai? 30,000 rupees pre-book kar diye? Bina kisi adult ko involve kiye? Savings ka matlab samajhte ho tum log? Wo aage ki padhai, emergencies, in sab ke liye hote hain! Birthday party ke liye savings udayi jati hai? Maine tumhein yahi sikhaya hai finance management ke baare mai?"
Khushi knew this lecture was sure to come, but Akshu stood her ground, stepping forward to stand next to Vanshu.
Akshu: "Ma'am, please gussa mat hoiye. Humne calculate karke hi kiya hai. Aap aur Sir din raat humare liye kitna kuch karte hain. Humari padhai, humare nakhre, humari zarooratein... aapne kabhi humein kisi cheez ki kami mehsoos hone di hai? Nahi na. Toh kya humein haq nahi hai ki hum apni Ma'am ke liye kuch special karein?"
Khushi nodded, her voice soft but firm. "Haan Ma'am. Yeh humara 'Thank You' hai. Aap humesha sabka dhyan rakhti hain, aaj humein aapka dhyan rakhne dijiye. Please, isse humari zid samajh lijiye, par humein yeh karna tha."
Bela opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, a tiny hand tugged at her tshirt.
Kiku looked up at her with big, sincere eyes. "Haan Mumma, daanto mat di logon ko. Maine bhi apna piggy bank toda hai! Maine pure 15 rupees diye hain party ke liye!"
Aashi: (jumping up) "Aur maine 20 rupees! Mere paas zyada the!"
Vanu: (pouting) "Aur main apna gold wala chocolate coin dene wali thi, par Akshu di ne bola restaurant wale chocolate nahi lete."
The sheer innocence and extreme seriousness of the 5-year-old trio completely shattered the tension. Mahir burst out laughing, and Khushi, Vanshu, and Akshu desperately bit their lips to hold back their own giggles.
Bela looked at the tiny, proud faces of her youngest daughters, and then at the genuine love in the eyes of her teenagers. The strict wall she had built completely crumbled. She sighed, dragging a hand across her face, defeated by love.
Bela: "Theek hai. Fine. Tumhari independent committee jeet gayi. Sirf is saal ke liye. Par agli baar se financial planning mere desk se pass hokar jayegi, understood?"
All 6 Kids: (saluting) "Yes, General!"
Mahir, who had been enjoying the scene immensely, walked over and wrapped an arm around Bela's waist. He looked down at the kids with a mischievous glint in his eye.
Mahir: "Toh, agar humari independent organizing committee ne raat ke dinner ki poori taiyaari kar li hai... toh humara bhi toh ek farz banta hai na? Aakhir hum bhi toh tumhare parents/guardians hain."
He looked at Bela, and the two of them exchanged a very secretive, knowing look.
Bela: "Kal jo tumhare Papa mujhe 'distract' karne mall le gaye the... wahan hum sirf chaat aur golgappe nahi kha rahe the."
Mahir clapped his hands. "Shanti Didi! Zara wo bags lana!"
Within seconds, Shanti Didi brought out several large, premium shopping bags from the Palladium Mall, placing them on the center table. The kids looked at the bags, completely confused.
Mahir clapped his hands together. "Team Aashvi, come here!"
He pulled out the first set of bags. "Yeh humari junior battalion ke liye."
Out came the most adorable, vibrant denim dungarees, jeans, t-shirts, pastel tulle dresses, and tiny matching hairbands. There were glittering hair clips, light-up crocs, and cute little strappy sandals.
Aashi, Vanu, and Kiku shrieked in delight, instantly grabbing the tulle dresses and holding them against their tiny frames, spinning around the living room.
Mahir laughed, then turned to the older girls. "Aur ab, Team Unstoppable. Tum logon ka fashion decode karne mein humein bohot mehnat lagi, par I think we nailed it."
Bela pulled out Vanshu's outfit first. It was a beautiful, sleek sleeveless crop top paired with a premium pair of high-waist denim jeans. It was stylish, comfortable, and exactly what Vanshu had been secretly adding to her online cart for months.
Next was Akshu's. Bela pulled out an incredibly chic, oversized lavender blazer, a perfectly fitted white crop top, and high-waisted, wide-leg trousers. It was sharp, modern, and gave off the ultimate 'Tech-Boss' vibe. Akshu's jaw physically dropped.
Finally, for Khushi. Knowing she preferred comfort and simplicity over heavy fashion, Bela had carefully chosen a soft, premium oversized shirt in a beautiful earthy tone, paired with classic, ultra-comfortable wide-leg jeans.
Khushi, Akshu, and Vanshu were speechless. The clothes were gorgeous, far more stylish than anything they usually wore.
Akshu, out of pure habit, gently flipped the price tag hidden inside the collar of the lavender blazer.
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.
Akshu: (whispering, her voice choking) "Atthara hazaar (18,000)? Ek blazer ke?!"
Vanshu quickly checked the tag on her jeans, her face going pale. "M-Ma'am... yeh jeans 12,000 ki hai?!"
Khushi didn't even look at her tag; hearing the other two was enough to make her head spin.
The excitement instantly evaporated from the teenagers' faces, replaced by a heavy, suffocating awkwardness. They exchanged a knowing, hesitant look. They knew Bela and Mahir's hospitality and that they considered them a part of their family, but a small part of them still felt like the girls who had been brought into this wealthy household. They were not used to-and did not feel entitled to-such extreme luxury.
Akshu carefully folded the blazer, her hands shaking slightly, and placed it back on the table.
Akshu: "Ma'am... Sir... yeh... yeh bohot expensive hai. Hum yeh nahi le sakte."
Vanshu nodded, pushing her jeans back toward the bags. "Haan Ma'am. Yeh humare liye bohot zyada hai. Humare normal kapde bilkul theek hain. Please, aap isse return kar dijiye."
Khushi: "Ma'am, hum yeh nahi le sakte! Yeh bohot, bohot mehenge hain! Humara pura budget is ek outfit mein khatam ho jayega!"
Vanshu: "Haan Ma'am! Hum aapko yeh repay nahi kar payenge. It's too much. Hum apne purane kapde pehan lenge, wo bhi ache hain."
Akshu: "Hum itne mehenge gifts leke debt (udhaar) mein nahi rehna chahte!"
Khushi kept her head down, nervously playing with her fingers. "Hum itne mehenge kapde pehenne ki aadat nahi hain, please we can't accept this."
The silence that followed was heavy. Mahir's smile faded, his heart aching as he saw the hesitation and lingering insecurity in their eyes. He looked at Bela.
Bela didn't look sad. She looked entirely, unapologetically fierce.
She stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. She picked up the lavender blazer, the high-waist jeans, and the oversized shirt in one swift motion and shoved them directly into the arms of the three stunned teenagers.
Bela: "Bela Sehgal ki dictionary mein 'Return' naam ka koi word nahi hai. Aur yeh kya naya naatak shuru kiya hai tum teeno ne? Hum wahi kar rahe jo humara farz h.. Aur debt? Sharam aati h aisi bakwaas karne mai ya aaj ke din bhi maar khaoge teeno. I bought them because I wanted you to look and feel your best today.. Aur tum teeno ke naatak hi nhi khatam hote.. 'Hum nahi le sakte'? Kyun nahi le sakte?"
Akshu looked down. "Kyunki... yeh bohot mehenga hai..."
Bela stepped right into their personal space, her voice dropping to that authoritative, no-nonsense tone that commanded absolute obedience.
Bela: "Price tag dekhne ki aadat daalna band karo jab baat parivaar ki ho. Tum meri responsibilities ho. Aur hum tumhare guardians. Is ghar ki har ek cheez par tumhara utna hi haq hai jitna Aashi, Vanu, aur Kiku ka hai. Samajh aayi baat?"
The three girls looked up, their eyes shining with fresh, unshed tears.
Bela's expression softened slightly, and she reached out, gently tapping their chin to make them look up.
Bela: "Aur suno... I know tum log apne aap ko bohot bade samajhte ho. Tum independent organizers ho, talented ho, aur hesitate kar rahe ho. But remember one thing agar maine tumhare liye yeh chuna hai, toh iska matlab yeh hai ki tum iske kaabil ho. Tum teeno humare liye abhi bacche hi ho.. Aur baccho ke liye karna guardians ka haq hota h.. "
She stepped back, the strict 'General' slipping back into her posture, though the corners of her lips twitched upward.
Bela: "Ab chup chap ja kar yeh kapde try karo aur raat ke dinner ke liye ready ho jao. Agar mujhe ek aur baar kisi ke muh se 'expensive' ya 'hum nahi le sakte' sunai diya... toh 15 din ki drill khushi ke saath tum dono ki bhi chalu kar dungi.. Wo bhi subah ke 4 baje.. Am I clear"
Trio: (loudly) "Yes, Ma'am!"
Bela: "Good. Ab chup chap inhe apne kamre mein le jao."
The teens exhaled, clutching their bags tightly, overwhelmed by the gesture but too terrified of the 4:00 AM drill to argue further.
Mahir clapped his hands, laughing as the tension vanished. "Chalo, bacchon! Get ready! Aaj raat 'Team Sehgal' ke naam!"
The Rooftop Restaurant - 8:30 PM
The cool Mumbai sea breeze swept across the open-air rooftop. The restaurant was the epitome of luxury-ambient golden lighting, soft live jazz music playing in the background, and a breathtaking panoramic view of the glittering city skyline.
When the Sehgal family stepped out of the glass elevator, heads turned.
They looked like a picture-perfect squad. Bela was radiating quiet elegance in her saree, walking hand-in-hand with Mahir, who looked effortlessly sharp in his matching silk-blend shirt.
But the real showstoppers were the kids.
Team Aashvi waddled in looking like three pastel cupcakes in their tulle dresses, their light-up crocs happily squeaking against the polished wooden floor.
Behind them walked the teenagers, completely transformed. Vanshu looked stunning and confident in her high-waist jeans and crop top, the heels making her look more confident and sharp as if she was the girl from the magazine cover, her posture straighter than usual. Khushi looked effortlessly cool and comfortable in her oversized shirt, the earthy tone bringing out the warmth in her eyes. And Akshu-strutting in her lavender blazer and wide-leg trousers-looked like a mini CEO she was ready to buy the restaurant and fire the manager.
The Maitre D' approached them with a polite bow. "Welcome. Do you have a reservation?"
Before Mahir could speak, Akshu stepped forward, clearing her throat and adjusting her blazer.
Akshu: "Yes. Reservation under the name 'Sehgal's'. VIP Table for eight."
The Maitre D' smiled warmly, checking his tablet. "Ah, yes. Miss Akshika Thakkar, correct? Your table is ready. Please follow me."
Bela raised an eyebrow at Mahir, thoroughly impressed. Mahir just winked back. (Secretly, Mahir had called the restaurant two days ago to ensure they got the absolute best table and to secretly cover the remaining premium charges so the girls' 30k savings would perfectly cover the 'bill' without them ever knowing).
They were seated at a magnificent long table right by the glass railing, overlooking the city.
The kids immediately grabbed the heavy, leather-bound menus.
Kiku: (peering over the top of her menu, which was bigger than her torso) "Mumma! Isme toh photo hi nahi hai! Main bina dekhe kaise order kar sakti hoon?"
Bela: (chuckling, gently lowering Kiku's menu) "Koi baat nhi Kiku.. Mumma aapki help karegi batao kya kgana. Tumhara favorite pasta, pizza sab milta hai yaha."
Vanu: "Aur main French Fries khaungi! Aur badi wali ice cream!"
For a second, the 'General' instinct flared up in Bela. Fried food at night? Ice cream in this breeze? She opened her mouth to order them a healthy soup instead, but then she felt Mahir's hand gently cover hers under the table.
Mahir: (whispering) "Rule Number 2, General Sahiba. Diet chart suspended."
Bela sighed, letting out a soft laugh. "Theek hai. Fries. Ice cream. Jo khana hai khao."
The teenagers went all out, ordering mocktails with fancy umbrellas, exotic appetizers they couldn't pronounce, and an obscene amount of cheese. For the next hour, the VIP table was the loudest, most joyful spot in the restaurant.
There were no debates. Instead, Khushi was reciting funny, impromptu shayaris about the overly complicated names of the dishes. Vanshu was clicking aesthetic pictures of the food and candid pictures if herself being the diva of the evening. Akshu and Aashi managed to argue only once-over who got the last piece of garlic bread-which Mahir swiftly resolved by splitting it exactly in half.
As the plates were finally cleared and the decadent desserts arrived, Mahir gently tapped his water glass with a spoon. Ding, ding, ding.
The table quieted down, all eyes turning to him.
Mahir stood up slightly, holding his glass of sparkling water like champagne. He looked at the six beautiful girls sitting around the table, and finally, his gaze settled entirely on Bela.
Mahir: "Ek choti si toast. Aaj ka din shuru hua tha ek beautiful 'Surprise Test' se, aur khatam ho raha hai is sheher ke sabse khubsurat aasmaan ke neeche. Aur yeh sab isliye possible hua kyunki in che shaitanon ne decide kiya ki inki Mumma, aur inki General... duniya ki saari khushiyon ki haqdaar hai."
He turned to the kids. "Thank you, platoon. Aaj tumne prove kar diya ki tum log na sirf marks laane mein aage ho, balki dil jeetne mein bhi topper ho."
Khushi, Akshu, and Vanshu beamed with pride, while the little ones clapped enthusiastically.
Mahir turned back to Bela, his eyes softening with deep, unwavering affection.
Mahir: "Aur Bela... tum wardi mein kitne bhi criminals ko kyu na pakdo, ghar mein kitne bhi rules kyu na banao... sach toh yeh hai ki tumhara dil is pure table pe sabse soft hai. Tum is parivaar ki center of gravity ho. Agar tum nahi hoti, toh hum sab kayi patang ki directionless hawa mein ud rahe hote. Happy Birthday, my love."
Bela's eyes welled up with happy tears. She didn't try to hide them this time. She looked around the table at her loud, chaotic, perfectly mismatched family.
Akshu raised her mocktail glass. "To the General!"
Vanshu: "To our Shield!"
Khushi: "To the best teacher!"
Aashi, Vanu, and Kiku raised their half-empty juice glasses, splashing a little on the tablecloth. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUMMA!!"
Bela raised her own glass, her heart completely full, the heavy weight of her responsibilities completely washed away by the sheer force of their love.
Bela: "To Team Sehgal. Tum logon ne aaj meri life ka sabse best 'Surprise Test' conduct kiya hai. Aur main proudly keh sakti hoon... we all passed with flying colors."
They clinked their glasses together in the center of the table, a chaotic symphony of crystal and laughter echoing into the Mumbai night.
As Bela leaned her head against Mahir's shoulder, watching her teenagers secretly feed the little ones an extra spoonful of dessert, she smiled. The General was officially off-duty, and the Mother was exactly where she belonged.
[END OF THE BIRTHDAY TRACK]
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So finally, this track comes to an end.
Guys, this was a really long part - almost 9k words, so please appreciate the effort! I actually combined two parts into one so that you all wouldn't have to wait longer for the continuation.
I've tried my best to show all the emotions and moments properly, and I truly hope you enjoy reading this part.
Also, I have a small request - after reading, please do leave a vote or a comment. It genuinely means a lot and motivates me to keep writing.
And if there's any twist, scene, or idea you'd love to see in the upcoming parts, feel free to share your creative (and chaotic 😄) ideas in the comments section. I'll definitely think about including them.
So for now, enjoy this part with your whole heart, and do let me know through your comments whether you liked it or not.
And yes... if I see enough votes and comments, I'll be back soon with the next update!
Until then, happy reading! ❤️
---
Also, a special thanks and shout-out to one of our constant supporters and readers who always lets me know through her comments how much she loved each part.
The new book cover you're seeing is actually her creativity, and I must say it's absolutely fabulous. I truly appreciate the effort and talent behind it.
Thank you so much, Chauhanwrites_, for creating this beautiful cover. It really means a lot! 🤍
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