Morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains as Asha ji sat on the edge of the sofa, her eyes scanning Aditya's worried face. The little boy had been silent since waking up, his eyes still wide from the night's chaos.
"Aditya," she called gently, extending her arms.
As if waiting for that signal, he ran into her embrace. She kissed his forehead lovingly and whispered, "Beta, kuch bhi nahi hua mujhe. Dekho, main bilkul theek hoon."
Aditya clung to her a moment longer before Shivani entered the room with her bag slung on her shoulder. Asha ji smiled and nodded toward the clock on the wall.
"Saath baj chuke hain, Shivani. Jaldi se Aditya ko school drop kar do, nahi toh tumhara college bhi late ho jayega."
Shivani nodded, quickly gathered Aditya's bag, and led him outside.
Meanwhile, across town, in a quiet warehouse surrounded by the lingering scent of burnt wires and metal, the electrician dusted his hands and turned to Abhay ji.
"Sir, garmi ke kaaran kuch wires chipak gaye the. Isi wajah se short circuit hua," he explained. "Ab sab theek kar diya hai. Ab koi dikkat nahi hogi."
Abhay ji raised a brow, still cautious. "Sab connections properly check kiye na?"
The electrician nodded earnestly. "Bilkul sir. Sab kuch safe hai ab."
Satisfied, Abhay ji paid him and turned toward the parking area. But just as he reached for his car keys, a voice from behind stopped him in his tracks.
"Bhai Singh!"
He turned slowly, squinting in the direction of the voice. His eyes widened in disbelief.
"Niranjan?!" he exclaimed. "Tu? Chandigarh mein hi toh tha?"
The man approaching him had aged, yes—but that familiar grin hadn't changed a bit. Niranjan laughed heartily, arms wide open.
"Sawal yahin poore kar lega kya? Mere bungalow yahin paas mein hai. Chal, wahin baat karte hain."
Soon, both cars sped off together, old memories bubbling up like carbonated soda.
At Niranjan's bungalow, a warm fragrance of freshly brewed tea greeted them. A woman with gentle eyes and a calm demeanor walked in, carrying a tray.
"Namaste bhaisaab," she greeted with a respectful nod.
Niranjan grinned, gesturing toward her, "Abhay, yeh Meeta hai—tumhari bhabhi."
With a wink, he added, "Love marriage meri bhi thi. Do bete hain. Bada London mein settled businessman hai. Chhota America mein MBA kar raha hai. Dono ka sapna—papa se bhi bada business banayein."
He chuckled and added, "Chandigarh chhod ke Delhi aaye do mahine ho gaye."
Abhay smiled softly, his own memories surfacing. "Maine bhi Asha se shaadi ki toh mummy-papa ne mana kar diya. Jab main nahi maana, unhone humein ghar se nikaal diya. Delhi aaye, nayi zindagi shuru ki."
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ek beti hai—Shivani. Final year B.Sc. kar rahi hai DU se. Aur ek beta—Aditya…"
He paused, smiling sheepishly. "Kindergarten mein hai abhi."
Niranjan burst out laughing, slapping his knee. "Yaar, iss umar mein bachcha!"
Abhay blushed, looking away.
"Haan haan, sharma mat. Umar toh sirf number hai! Dil jawaan hona chahiye," Niranjan teased.
Then, more serious, he asked, "Waise, warehouse mein kya kar rahe the?"
Abhay told him about the short circuit.
Niranjan frowned. "Mujhe laga tum university mein professor ho?"
Abhay nodded. "Tha. Retirement ke baad ghar baithna accha nahi laga. Ek chhoti si shoe shop kholi… phir showroom… aur ab doosra showroom bhi khula hai. Uska inauguration Sunday ko hai."
He smiled, eyes twinkling. "Itni khushi hui tujhe dekh ke. Kabhi socha nahi tha phir mulaqat hogi."
He stood to leave. "Chal Ranjan, main chalta hoon. Bhabhi ko leke zaroor aana Sunday ko."
That night, over dinner, Abhay animatedly shared the day's events with Asha ji, his voice filled with boyish excitement.
Asha frowned, "Mujhe koi Niranjan yaad nahi…"
Abhay laughed. "Jise main Ranjan kehke bulata tha! Woh lamba sa, patla sa… ab toh takla ho gaya hai, aur pet bhi nikal aaya hai!"
Hearing this, Aditya let out a loud giggle. The laughter became contagious, filling the house with warmth.
Asha smiled fondly. "Main toh tumse paanch saal chhoti thi… kaise jaanti tumhare school ke doston ko?"
Abhay waved his hand. "Chhodo! Maine Saras ke haathon unko Sunday ka card bhej diya hai."
Soon, the house fell into the soft hush of sleep, dreams filled with old friends and new beginnings.
Sunday arrived.
The house buzzed with excitement. Asha ji wore a graceful green silk saree, her elegance simple yet striking. Abhay ji, ever modest, chose a black suit that added quiet charm to his personality.
Niranjan and Meeta arrived, visibly taken aback by the grandeur of the setup. They had imagined a modest affair, and their plain attire suddenly felt out of place amidst the floral decorations, suited guests, and gentle music playing in the background.
Abhay welcomed them with open arms.
"Aao bhai, aao! Itni der laga di?"
Asha joined with a warm smile, "Namaste bhaisaab, namaste bhabhi. Kaise ho aap dono? Abhay ji toh tab se bas aapka zikr karte ja rahe hain!"
Abhay chuckled. "Arey, ab inhe baithne dogi ya poore mehmaanon ke saamne bhasha sunaaogi?"
Everyone laughed. Asha playfully hit Abhay's arm and turned to Niranjan and Meeta, "Aaiye, kuch khane-peene ka intezaam karti hoon."
Soon, a waiter brought over trays of juice and wine.
And then—
A woman in a soft peach silk saree walked toward Asha, holding the hand of a little child.
Her eyes scanned the gathering. There was something in her presence… something delicate, yet commanding. The child beside her looked around, wide-eyed, holding tightly to her fingers.
Asha turned slowly, sensing the new arrival.
Her smile faded. Her heart skipped a beat.
Who was she? And why did Asha suddenly feel a strange familiarity in her face?
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