Bhangra: Lively Punjabi folk dance/music.

Changu‑Mangu: Playful term for two inseparable pals.

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Ira emerged from the bathroom, clutching her abdomen and walking with heavy steps. Her puffy eyes, evidence of another late night, fell on the pendulum clock hanging on the wall, and they widened.

"1:15 p.m."

"Oh, you're up, beta." Vaidehi's sarcastic tone made Ira turn toward her. "Why bother getting up at all? Just sleep through the day and wake up for dinner. That's your routine now, isn't it?"

Ira's expression soured as she limped toward her room. "Papa's not home, so she wants to argue with me," she muttered under her breath.

"What did you say?" Vaidehi snapped.

"Nothing," Ira whispered, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Where are you going?!"

"Please don't shout," Ira pleaded.

"Don't shout? Don't shout! You sleep till 1:30 p.m. and then tell me not to shout? You've been sleeping all day, every day, for a year now! If you had studied for that medical exam, you'd be taking it this year!"

Ira’s teeth gritted at the mention of the medical exam, the cramps in her abdomen making her feel worse. Furrowing her eyebrows, she stormed toward the stairs, her firm footsteps echoing as they drowned out Vaidehi's continuous yelling in the background.

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"Yep, yeah. I'll be there in twenty minutes." Rudraksh paced back and forth in his room, pressing the phone against his ear. His grey nightwear were rumpled, resonating with his stuck out dark hair in every direction.

He chewed on the corner of his mouth, listening to the voice on the other end. "Hm... hm... yeah, of course, man. I'm bored too; been stuck inside these four walls for a whole month."

With a grin that reached his ears, he hung up and walked toward the wardrobe, whistling a cheerful tune. His fingers trailed over the rows of shirts, until he pulled out a coffee-colored shirt and a pair of dark black jeans.

With a satisfied smile, he tossed the clothes onto the bed. Then, gathering his innerwear and towel, he finally headed into the bathroom.

About ten minutes later, he emerged in his innerwear, rubbing his wet hair vigorously with the towel. Quickly, he slipped into his jeans and shirt, the fabrics clinging lightly to his still-damp body.

Opening the wardrobe once more, he began searching for something warm to wear before stepping out. "It's not that cold, and I'm already hot," he murmured with a smug smile, winking at himself as he moved toward the dressing table.

As he dried his hair with the blower, his gaze drifted to the stitched mark on his forehead. Every muscle in his body tensed, his thoughts inexorably drawn to her. His fingers moved on their own, tracing the scar—

The shrill ringtone of his phone made his eyes squeeze shut. He jerked his head once before answering. "I'll be there in ten minutes," he said, his tone neutral.

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Rudraksh walked toward the main gate, twirling his bike key around his forefinger as his footsteps followed the tune humming from his lips.

"Where are you going, beta?" Anusuiya's eyes, warm with maternal worry, searched his face as she stepped closer.

Rudraksh's facial muscles twitched with a hint of annoyance. Without turning around, he replied in a detached tone, "To a friend's. I'll be back by eight."

Anusuiya's lips curved into a wistful smile as she reached out, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder and coaxing him to face her. With soft fingers, she brushed the unruly strands from his forehead, taming his disheveled hair into quiet neatness. Her touch lingered – trailing over his eyebrows, cheek, and chin – each movement steeped in unspoken motherly affection.

Cradling his face between her palms, she rose on her toes and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. Then, with the practiced grace of tradition, she traced a bit of kajal from her eyes and dabbed it behind his ears. Giving his cheek a final, gentle tap, she whispered, "Take care, and don't drive fast, okay?"

Rudraksh's gaze locked on his mother's face, his eyes frozen in a silent stare. He didn't blink or flinch, his entire being suspended between confusion and emotion. All he could manage was a faint nod. Then, still wearing a perplexed expression, he turned and walked out of the house, leaving behind the warmth of his mother's love and concern.

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He stood before his bike, one arm folded across his chest, the other resting beneath his chin. It had been over seven months since they were last together.

For a long moment, he simply stared. Then, with measured steps, he moved closer, his fingers hesitating before tracing the sleek frame in a gentle caress. A wistful smile curved his lips, his eyes glazing over with memories too vivid to fade.

Finally, he swung a leg over the seat, the familiar leather sighing beneath his weight. His palm lingered on the tank, tender with longing, before he leaned down and pressed a quiet kiss against the cold metal. His eyes closed, his breath deepened.

Anticipation built in his chest, his heartbeat syncing with the bike's silent promise. His fingers trembled slightly as they gripped the handles, and a slow, mischievous grin tugged at his lips. One sharp kick—and the engine roared to life, a deep, throaty growl sending shivers racing through him.

He started slow, weaving through the crowded streets, savoring the wind against his face and the sun's warmth on his skin. But as the road opened ahead and the city noise faded behind, he stopped briefly to strap on his helmet.

Then, with a smug smile, he brought his only lover back to life. The bike responded eagerly, growling in rhythm with his pulse.

In the next heartbeat, he was gone—racing into the open stretch, the machine surging beneath him like a wild beast unleashed. The wind tore through his shirt, his grin widened beneath the helmet, and for the first time in months, he felt utterly alive – one with his bike, the road, and the fierce joy of the ride.

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Ira clutched the pillow to her abdomen, rolling from side to side in a futile attempt to escape the pain. "Ahh… God, please don't make me a girl again in my next life."

The pain grew unbearable. She flung the pillow aside and swung her legs off the bed. The cool cement floor slapped against her bare feet, sending a shiver up her spine.

Pacing the room, still clutching her stomach, she muttered through clenched teeth, "I'll throw this thing out of my body! Bloody uterus!" Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. She fanned her face with her free hand, trying to steady herself against the ache consuming her body.

Finding no relief, she finally sank to the floor, her back pressed against the icy surface. The chill seeped through her skin, making her tremble. Curling into a fetal position, knees drawn to her chest, she rocked gently—but even that brought no comfort.

With a low growl of frustration, she flipped onto her stomach and pounded her fist against the floor.

"Ira!" Vaidehi's shrill cry made Ira's heart skip a beat. She jolted upright, her back rigid, as if a bucket of icy water had been dumped on her on a frigid winter morning.

At the doorway, Vaidehi stood with her hands planted firmly on her hips, eyes blazing. "How many times must I remind you not to sleep at this hour?!" she thundered. "These habits attract negative energies! You're adopting demonic ways. Sleeping in late, staying up late, combing your hair at midnight, eating at ungodly hours! What has gotten into you?!"

Ira's eyebrows knitted as she clenched her fists, walking back toward the bed. "Nothing's happened to me," she shot back. "But I'm sure you've lost your mind!" She glared at her mother, daring her to continue.

Vaidehi stormed toward her, the jingle of her anklets and bangles ringing sharply. "What did you say?" Her voice trembled with anger and disbelief. "Is this how you speak to your elders, girl?! Is this what I've taught you?!"

"You've taught me nothing," Ira said firmly, her voice steady. "I've learned everything on my own."

"Yes, yes, you've grown up just fine without my help. All on your own," Vaidehi spat sarcastically.

"Yes."

"Then get out of my house!"

"This is not your house!"

Vaidehi's hand shot up, her forefinger jabbing toward her daughter's face. "That's enough, Ira. You're speaking too much."

Ira's lips twisted, her brows furrowing. "I don't have the habit of talking back. You're the one making me do it."

Vaidehi closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. When she spoke again, her tone had softened, "Ira, beta, listen to me. I'm saying this for your own good. Remember that girl from our neighborhood – the one who was three years ahead of you in school?"

She paused, searching for any hint of interest in her daughter's face, but found only indifference. Still, she went on, "She took seven attempts to pass her exams, but she never gave up. And now, she'll be a doctor in a few years. A doctor, Ira. Think about it. A doctor."

Pillows flew. Blankets scattered.

Ira stomped her feet on the mattress, eyes screwed shut as she let out a primal scream. "Arghh…! I don't want to become that anymore!" she wailed desperately. "Do you want me to waste my entire life on this one thing?! It's suffocating me, killing me from the inside! Why can't you understand?!"

"What's your plan for the future, then? To sleep your life away, doing absolutely nothing?" Vaidehi's voice rose to a shrill pitch. "If that's the case, I might as well get you married off and be done with all my responsibilities toward you!"

"Marriage? You would've married me off the moment I finished high school if you had your way." Ira tried to sound firm, but emotion cracked her voice. "And what responsibilities are you talking about, huh? Have you ever, ever, shouldered the ones you were supposed to as parents?"

The cramps only deepened her distress, making her words spill out between clenched teeth. "Since childhood, you people never showed even a fraction of care!" Tears brimmed in her eyes. "You don't even know which class I study in! Forget that—you don't even remember my exact age, my birthday, nothing! You people know nothing about me!"

Her face contorted as she went on, voice trembling. "Forget these," she whispered. "Did you ever care to know that when you and your husband fought like street dogs, thirsty for each other’s blood…" She paused, chest heaving. "There was a little child hiding somewhere in the house, shielding herself in her tiny arms from all that toxicity? Did you ever check if she was alive, or already dead inside?"

Vaidehi's face hardened. She clenched a fist, the other hand gesturing sharply. "Why are you blaming me alone?! You go mute in front of your father! And no one wants to fight, Ira. Everyone dreams of a happy family!" she shot back. "But circumstances become like that… there are financial problems, domestic issues, neighbors who can't stand your happiness! Life is like this – sometimes sunshine, sometimes shade."

"But ours is only shade. Sunshine never came!" Ira retorted. "And what? Circumstances? Are your circumstances the same throughout your twenty-seven years of married life?" Her tone turned scathing. "Or do you just not want to change those so-called circumstances?"

She shook her head lightly. "And don't worry. Your husband is nothing more than an occasional ATM in our lives." She sniffled before continuing, "And I don't say anything to him because he doesn't have the strength to hear it! The last time I did, I was seven and he didn't talk to me for weeks."

She scoffed, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "But what fortune I have! Having a mother, yet it was my father who stepped forward to fulfill the basic needs of a daughter. Because you—" she pointed a trembling but firm finger at Vaidehi— " you have always been too busy with your half-finished studies and half-baked superstitious rituals for your so-called career!"

Her voice cracked, her chest heaving. "And I was happy. Very happy and content!" She hurled the blanket across the room. "But you people can't stand seeing anyone happy, can you? From where did this sudden affection of yours emerge, that you've turned my life into hell?"

Vaidehi's jaw clenched tight. "I made your life hell, huh?" The words burst out of her, sharp and defensive. "If I had left, there would have been nowhere to go!"

"Then you should have left!" Tears finally streamed down Ira's face. "And you're talking as if I begged you to give birth to me! If it was such a burden, why didn't you just kill me the moment I came into this world? At least I would've been spared this miserable life!"

Vaidehi's face hardened. "You're going too far, Ira. Stop your nonsense," she warned in a low, trembling voice.

"Oh, really?" Ira shot back, her tone thick with sarcasm. "You've been feeding me your nonsense for years—and now you're annoyed with just this much?"

Vaidehi stepped forward. "You've gone astray, huh? Started talking too much, haven't you? You'll only come to your senses after a good beating."

Ira's gaze locked onto hers, unwavering. "I'm not a child anymore, one you can silence with your hollow threats and slaps," she whispered.

Vaidehi s face flushed crimson. "If not this, then what will you do?! And what if you fail at that too?!"

"Then I'll die."

Vaidehi froze where she stood, her mouth slightly open, eyes wide. "Stop this nonsense, Ira," she said quietly, forcing calm into her voice. "I'm saying this for your future. You already have knowledge in this field. If you start something new, you'll have to learn it from scratch, and that isn't easy."

Ignoring her mother's words, Ira spun around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

"With this attitude, you'll never achieve anything in life, Ira. Mark my words!"

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The two boys in the backseat lurched forward as the white Toyota screeched to a halt.

Siddharth stepped out of the driver's seat, sliding the keys into his jacket pocket, and exhaled a misty breath into the cold evening air. Rubbing his palms together, he rapped his knuckles on the rear window. "C'mon, guys! Get out!"

Getting no response, he peered through the glass, eyebrows lifting in amusement.

Both Rudraksh and Karan sat huddled, arms wrapped tightly around themselves, looking like a pair of sulky, oversized teddy bears in their bulky jackets and attached caps.

Siddharth chuckled. "Oh, Changu-Mangu! Come out!" he teased, unlocking the door.

Neither of them bothered to move, as if their backs were glued to the seats.

Siddharth blinked, staring at them for a few seconds before exhaling deeply. 'Okay," he muttered, and began pulling them out one by one.

"Muh-hm…" Their whines rose in protest, like kids being dragged out of bed for school.

The moment the cold air hit their faces, Karan seemed unfazed, but Rudraksh let out a—

Aachhu!—achhu!—chhu!

"Hey, Rudraksh! Don't sneeze," Karan complained like a child. "Last time you sneezed, he made us wear these stupid bear jackets. Who told you to ride the bike that fast?!"

Rudraksh blew his nose into his handkerchief and kicked Karan’s calf, making him stumble.

"Ra*cal!" Karan's eyes widened. He retaliated with a swift kick of his own, and soon the scene devolved into chaos – both of them play-fighting like they were performing an impromptu bhangra outside the disco entrance.

Siddharth watched them, amusement and exasperation flickering across his face. Passersby threw awkward glances at the duo, while a few girls giggled at their antics.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Siddharth approached them as they continued to horse around. He grabbed the backs of their caps, which had slipped down, and held them firmly in place. "Stop."

Karan and Rudraksh exchanged sheepish glances, then straightened up, cleared their throats, and walked forward with Siddharth, who still had a hand on each like a guardian.

After a few steps, Siddharth stopped, earning confused looks from the boys. He dropped his hands to his sides and raised a finger in warning. "No alcohol."

Both of them nodded hastily.

Siddharth gave a curt nod and continued ahead.

With their heads bowed, Karan and Rudraksh exchanged sly glances, winking at each other with mischievous grins before following Siddharth's lead.

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The three friends stepped inside the disco, and the chill outside gave way to the warmth of the crowd.

A potent mix of Hindi, Gujarati, Punjabi, Bhojpuri, and other Indian songs pulsed through the air, syncing perfectly with their heartbeats. The primal urge to move, to let go, and to lose themselves in the rhythm became irresistible.

Karan and Rudraksh stepped onto the dance floor, nodding their heads to the beat as they unzipped their jackets. With effortless timing, they swung them toward Siddharth, who caught both with practiced ease.

Colorful lights swept the surroundings in a mesmerizing spectacle. The crowd was a vibrant tapestry of hues – sarees, suits, and dresses shimmering under the dazzling lights.

Siddharth moved toward the counter, draped both jackets over a chair, and sat down, making himself comfortable.

"What would you like to have, sir?" the bartender asked with a polite smile.

Siddharth returned the courtesy with a nod. "Nothing, thank you."

He turned his focus back toward the dance floor, where his friends were lost in the music. Their faces glowed with joy as they swayed, spun, and twirled in perfect rhythm.

Laughter, shouts, and occasional whoops of excitement filled the air – a deafening cacophony that was somehow both chaotic and beautiful.

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After an exhilarating hour of dancing, Rudraksh and Karan stumbled out of the crowd, arms slung over each other's shoulders. In perfect sync, they unbuttoned the top three buttons of their shirts and ran their fingers through sweat-dampened hair, exhaling deeply as they tried to catch their breath.

"Bhai…" Karan groaned, wincing in pain as he limped. "Who invented these heels? Ouch! That girl stomped on my delicate foot like it was a drum!"

Tightening his hold around his friend's shoulder, Rudraksh said dryly, his expression flat. "I told you to stay with me, but you just had to dance with the pretty girl. Now enjoy your reward."

Karan shot him a look of disbelief, eyes widening. "Bhai, with a friend like you, I don't need enemies," he declared dramatically, making Rudraksh chuckle.

They trudged toward the counter and collapsed onto the chairs. Rudraksh's gaze swept the crowded room, eyebrows knitting as he turned to Karan. "Where's Sid?"

Karan followed his line of sight, his earlier pain forgotten. "There he is," he said, nudging Rudraksh. But his expression quickly shifted from relief to confusion. "Wait, why is he carrying three cans of Sprite?"

"To drink," Rudraksh replied, waving and smiling at Siddharth’s approaching figure.

"Bhai, kids drink that stuff. We're grown men." Karan spun his chair toward the counter, clearly unimpressed with Siddharth's choice. "Hello, sir!" he called out to the bartender.

Rudraksh tilted his head. "What are you doing?"

Karan flashed a mischievous grin. "Just wait and watch, bro. It's the last night of the year. Some fun's allowed." He winked and turned back to the bartender, continuing their conversation.

"What fun, Karan?"

Karan froze. He coughed, eyes darting toward the bartender before quickly spinning his chair to face Siddharth. "Dance, Sid! Dance!" he blurted out with a forced laugh, snatching one can of Sprite from Siddharth's hand. "You should've joined us; it was amazing, right, Rudraksh?"

Rudraksh arched an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "It was?" He held the look long enough for Karan to squirm, then nodded, his smirk softening into a smile. "It was."

Siddharth eyed both of them suspiciously, then handed a can to Rudraksh. "Anyway, what's the plan for the rest of the night?" he asked, taking a seat beside Karan.

Karan traced the rim of his can with his thumb and said absentmindedly, "What plan? We'll stay here till midnight, then roam the city, grab some good street food, head home, and crash."

Siddharth nodded, sipping his drink, his gaze drifting back to the dance floor.

As soon as Rudraksh finished his Sprite, Karan cracked open his own can and handed it to him, gesturing with his eyes and mouthing, 'half-half', before spinning Rudraksh’s chair around and winking.

Catching the cue, Rudraksh smirked and got to work.

Amidst the sea of faces, Siddharth's attention was fixed on one in particular – eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing in focus. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "She looks familiar. Is she—" His gaze shifted to his friend beside him, and his eyebrows shot up.

Karan was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven bursts. His jaw was tight, and his fists were clenched so hard they looked bloodless.

A/N: Hi, everyone! How are you today?
Share your insights in the comment box about this update.

1. What is your opinion about Ira and her family?

2. Who do you think the girl is?