Anusuiya, with her eyes and lips shut, sat on the sofa, cradling her head in her hands, elbows resting on her lap.

Nearby, Yashoda gently caressed Vardhaman's hair with her wrinkled hands. His head rested on her lap as he looked up at her, worry etched across his face.

"Dadi, will Dad beat Bhaiya?" Vardhaman whispered, adjusting his head on her lap. "Last time, when he came home after a fight, he got six slaps straight to his face. The marks were visible for a whole week."

Anusuiya lifted her head, a tear rolling down her cheek. Her lips trembled, and her voice broke as she spoke, "Why does he not listen to me? What should I do? He doesn't even talk to me properly. It's been decades since I last heard the word 'Maa' from his mouth. What can I do? What can I..." Her words trailed off as she broke into sobs, her body shaking uncontrollably.

As she cried, her expression shifted; her jaw clenched. "Everything is happening because of that witch," she spat, her fists tightening, her body tensing with suppressed anger.

"Careful, Balwant."

Hearing Aanand's concerned voice, all three of them froze, their mouths falling open in shock.

Balwant stopped in his tracks, exchanging glances with everyone before his eyes landed on Aanand.

Aanand gestured toward the stairs. "In his bedroom."

Balwant nodded and hurried upward, Rudraksh's limp form in his arms shaking with each step.

"What happened? How is he? Why is he unconscious? What did you do?!" Anusuiya's words tumbled out rapidly, one over the other.

Aanand snapped his head toward her, his eyebrows furrowing. "Why do you always think I've done something? He's my son too. And I don't love him any less than you."

"Then why is he unconscious?!" she demanded, glaring at him.

Aanand mirrored her glare. "What do you expect him to be after drinking the whole bar?"

He paused, taking a deep breath to rein in his anger. "Go, bring some warm water and a clean cotton cloth. I'm in his bedroom."

Anusuiya scowled and rushed to the kitchen, her firm steps accompanied by the jingling of her payal.

Aanand turned toward Vardhaman and Yashoda, his expression stern. "Vardhaman, take your grandmother to sleep. You too. You both can meet Rudraksh tomorrow."

Both grandmother and grandson stood frozen, uncertainty written on their faces.

Aanand narrowed his eyes and commanded firmly, "Go!"

Vardhaman nodded hastily and held Yashoda by her arm. "Come on, Dadi. We'll meet Bhaiya tomorrow. Let's go to sleep. But before that, tell me more about Lord Rama and Lord Krishna's stories."

Yashoda nodded softly, a faint smile on her face. Together, they made their way toward her bedroom, the sound of their footsteps fading into the distance.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

Her jewelry jingled a soft tune as Anusuiya made her way toward the staircase. She held a medium-sized steel vessel, a cotton cloth pressed neatly around its rim.

Just as she lifted her foot to step onto the first stair, the landline rang-its sharp tone echoing through the quiet room, halting her movement midair.

Anusuiya's eyebrows furrowed. After a brief pause, she turned on her heel and walked toward the phone.

Setting the vessel carefully on the glass table, she picked up the handset and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?"

"R-Rudra?" A trembling, high-pitched voice came from the other end.

Anusuiya's jaw tightened. Without a word, she slammed the handset back into the base.

Before she could reach for the vessel again, the phone rang once more - shrill and insistent. Gritting her teeth, she pressed the red button to disconnect the call and set the handset down with a thud before heading back toward the stairs.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

Rudraksh lay shirtless on the bed, grey trousers having replaced the black jeans he had worn earlier. The soft glow of the blue night bulb cast a warm light on their features, illuminating the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Beside him, Aanand sat, stroking his hair - watching his son with the weary tenderness of a parent whose child was breaking, bit by bit, piece by piece, before his very eyes.

The gaunt face, prominent cheekbones, sunken eyes, and pale skin painted a heartbreaking picture. His abdomen was flat, his thorax starkly defined, the collarbones visible beneath his skin. His wrists were thin, bones jutting out sharply, giving his long fingers a frail, bony frame.

Aanand's eyes softened as he continued stroking his son's hair.

The touch made Rudraksh's face contort briefly before he once again surrendered to the warm embrace of sleep.

The door creaked open, drawing Aanand's attention. His gaze met his wife's.

Anusuiya approached the bed, her footsteps soundless against the carpet. Gently, she sat down on the other side of Rudraksh's sleeping form, placing the vessel carefully on the mattress.

"How thin has he gotten?" she murmured, reaching out to brush the boy hair gently.

Aanand's lips pressed into a thin line, his expression somber.

Anusuiya sighed softly, shifting slightly before picking up the cloth and dipping it into the warm water. As she wrung out the excess, her eyes returned to the sleeping boy. She reached out to wipe him, but Aanand took the damp fabric from her hand, prompting a faint frown from her.

"What?" Aanand asked, his voice neutral, his face calm. "Don't forget - when Rudraksh was a toddler, he always bathed with me."

A nostalgic smile curved Anusuiya's lips as she recalled the past.

Aanand's hands moved gently, wiping thru son's skin as the pungent smell of vomit slowly faded away.

Anusuiya took the cloth next, dipping and squeezing it again, while Aanand repeated the motion, until the foul scent was replaced by the clean, sharp aroma of Dettol and water.

"Go and bring a fresh shirt from his wardrobe," he said, his eyes fixed on his son.

Anusuiya's jewelry jingled softly as she followed his instruction, returning with a full-sleeved white woollen shirt. "Here."

Aanand looked at the shirt, confused. "Make him wear it."

Anusuiya's eyebrows shot up. "He's your son too. Why don't you make him wear it?"

"He'll wake up," Aanand replied flatly.

Anusuiya narrowed her eyes, still holding the shirt out. "He didn't wake up when you changed his clothes."

Flashing her a sharp glare, Aanand snatched the shirt from her hand. "Watch me."

Anusuiya cradled her chin in her palm, eyebrows still raised. "Sure."

Aanand exhaled deeply, holding one sleeve in one hand and Rudraksh's right arm in the other. With a smooth motion, he slipped the arm into the sleeve and buttoned the cufflinks. Then he stood up and moved to the other side of the bed.

Anusuiya's gaze followed him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched his actions.

Sitting down beside the sleeping boy, Aanand held the other sleeve and slipped it over his left arm, buttoning the cufflinks with the same precision.

Anusuiya's expression shifted from scrutiny to disbelief. Her hands fell to her sides as she tilted her head, mouth agape. "What are you trying to do, actually?"

Aanand kept his focus on the task, his tone even. "Can't you see? I'm making him wear this shirt."

Anusuiya's eyes widened. "With the collar in the front?!" she exclaimed. "Who made you a judge?"

Aanand shot her an irritated look. "It has nothing to do with my degree. And for the record, this is your work, not mine. I used to bathe him, not dress him."

Anusuiya's lips twitched into irritation as she approached him hastily. "Get up and move aside. You've made my son look like a joker!"

Aanand straightened up, his expression furrowing at her tone.

Anusuiya's gaze swept past him, focusing on Rudraksh's sleeping form. "Now, watch me."

She swiftly unbuttoned the cuffs, then slipped one hand behind Rudraksh's head and the other under his waist, cradling him close to her shoulder like a newborn. Adjusting the shirt deftly, she guided his arms into the proper sleeves and laid him back down gently before buttoning up the shirt.

Aanand watched with an amused expression. "You have so much strength."

Anusuiya's gaze met his, her tone neutral. "I have a brain."

Aanand's stare lingered, but Anusuiya ignored him and turned back to Rudraksh. A gentle smile spread across her lips as she knelt down and pressed a soft kiss on his forehead.

Taking a seat beside his wife, Aanand gazed at their son's relaxed features. "He looks so peaceful while sleeping, doesn't he? Otherwise, there's always anger sitting right on the tip of his nose."

Anusuiya's face softened, and a quiet chuckle escaped her lips. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." She looked at her husband, her eyebrows arching playfully. "But there's a big difference between you two."

Aanand leaned forward slightly. "Like what?"

A smirk tugged at her lips. "He doesn't explode like a Diwali cracker."

Aanand raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a half-smirk. "He erupts like a volcano."

Earning a sharp glare from his wife, he cleared his throat. "I mean-take care. Otherwise, someday someone will start calling him Volcano instead of Rudraksh."

Anusuiya rolled her eyes and shifted her focus back to Rudraksh. A sad smile formed on her lips. "Why don't you talk to him?"

Aanand's lips curved into a faint smile, his eyes clouding with old memories. "You know," he began, his voice cracking as he looked away, swallowing hard, "It's been years since he called me Papa."

Anusuiya's eyes glistened with unshed tears. She reached out and took Aanand's hand in hers, her touch warm and comforting.

Aanand's face softened, and he gently squeezed her hand back. "Don't lose hope, Anusuiya. He's our son. He'll definitely come back to us."

Anusuiya nodded slowly, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. She wiped them away and sniffled softly.

Aanand pulled her into a gentle side hug. "Come on, let's go to sleep. And let him sleep as well." He chuckled. "And be ready to hear his tantrums tomorrow: Who dared to change my clothes? I'm a grown man!"

Anusuiya's face broke into a smile, a soft laugh bubbling from her chest, though her eyes still shimmered with lingering emotion.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

Clutching one pillow to her abdomen and another beneath her waist, Ira scrunched her eyes shut. Her once-neat braid now lay in disarray, strands of hair escaping in every direction. A single tear rolled from the corner of her eye, and her lips trembled between muffled sobs.

Beside her, Vaidehi slept peacefully, her chest rising and falling with each gentle breath-until Ira's sobs, now louder, made her eyelids flutter open. She rubbed the sleep from her red-rimmed eyes, focusing on her daughter's contorted face.

"Ira, what happened, beta?" she asked softly, her voice hoarse from sleep.

"It's so painful..." Ira's voice cracked between sobs, her words dissolving into incoherent whimpers.

Vaidehi sat up straight, folding her legs beneath her, and touched her forehead. Her eyes narrowed as she felt the warmth of her skin. "It's a slight fever. Maybe due to the menses," she murmured to herself.

Throwing off the blanket, she climbed out of bed and switched on the light. The sudden brightness made her squint as she walked out of the room.

Ira continued to writhe in pain, shifting restlessly in search of relief.

Moments later, the soft sound of footsteps echoed through the quiet night. Vaidehi returned, carrying a steel bowl filled with warm mustard oil. Setting it on the mattress, she sat by Ira's legs, her heavy eyes struggling to stay open.

Sluggishly, she lifted Ira's legs onto her lap, pulled down her pyjamas, and began massaging her legs with the oil. Her hands moved deftly, working through the knots in Ira's muscles.

As Vaidehi worked, her head began to droop. She jerked it up, forcing her eyes open. Her gaze fell on Ira's now-sleeping face. Gently, she patted her head several times in a soothing rhythm, then set the bowl aside on the nearby window ledge.

Switching off the light, the room was once again plunged into darkness. The shallow patter of her footsteps followed as she got back into bed. Soon, the room fell silent, filled only with the sound of their gentle breathing.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

Swiftly, Anusuiya drew the curtains aside, the soft ticking of the rings echoing through the room. Bright afternoon sunlight spilled in through the window, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air.

Rudraksh's eyes squinted as the sharp rays fell across his sleeping face. His expression tightened, and he hastily pulled the blanket over his head, the fabric rustling as he burrowed deeper.

A low chuckle escaped Anusuiya's lips as she approached the bed with slow, deliberate steps, her gaze fixed on her son's blanket-shrouded form. Moving carefully, she curled her fingers around the furry fabric and gently tugged it down from his face.

Rudraksh groaned, turned to the other side, and snuggled his face into the pillow. The softness seemed to envelop him, and he drifted back into peaceful slumber.

Anusuiya's smile lingered as she watched him sleep. Reaching out, she gently pried the pillow from his grip, her fingers brushing lightly against his hair.

Rudraksh's jaw tightened, his fingers curled into fists, and he sat up abruptly-his eyes snapping open. In one swift motion, he hurled the pillow across the room. It hit the wall with a soft thud. "What the h-"

His eyes met Anusuiya's faltering smile, and the words died in his throat.

Expressionless, he threw the blanket aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, planting his feet firmly on the ground.

When his gaze fell on his changed clothes, his eyes narrowed. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he spoke in a low, detached voice. "Please, do not ever change my clothes again. I can take care of myself."

With his head lowered and arms limp at his sides, he walked slowly to the wardrobe, pulled out a towel, and headed toward the bathroom.

The soft click of the lock filled the room as he shut the door behind him.

Anusuiya's lips pressed together, a faint smile flickering on her face. The gentle jingling of her payal followed her as she walked out of Rudraksh's room.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

The tap's gentle gurgle filled the space as water splashed against the sink.

Rudraksh cupped his palms beneath the faucet and splashed the chilled water onto his face. His eyes reddened, and he shook his head vigorously, sending droplets scattering across the counter like tiny diamonds.

Tilting his head, he ran his fingers through his black hair, tangling them briefly in the roots before sliding his hands down and pressing them against the metal counter with a soft clang.

As he leaned forward toward the mirror, the edge of the counter dug into his skin. A pair of hollow eyes stared back at him in silent confrontation. The droplets on his face glistened, refracting the light, while his breath fogged the glass, momentarily blurring his reflection.

Who is this? This is not me. I was never like this. How could I give someone else permission to play with my emotions? When did my life start revolving around just a girl?

A girl who didn't even think once before betraying me.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the base of the mirror to avoid meeting his own reflection.

What didn't I give you, Sanam?

Love, respect, space, time. I don't remember lashing out at you even once. I always tried my best to meet your standards. I tried so hard to make you happy that I didn't realize when I left my true self behind.

I completely changed myself for you.

His face twisted, recalling their memories together.

Did I give you too much? Was I too dependent on you? I never even tried to get close to yo-

His teeth ground together, face twisting. His reflection glared back at him, piercing through his soul. "Were you this desperate, Sanam?" he sneered, his voice laced with self-loathing.

You were just a distraction - a long-term distraction.

But not anymore. Enough of tears, enough of pleading, and enough of grieving over a... betrayal. I don't mean anything to you? Fabulous. You don't mean anything to me either.

From now on, it's just me and my career. That's all.

His chest rose with a deep breath. "I loved you, Sanam. I truly loved you," he confessed in a low, firm voice. "And you taught me why I should never do this shit again. Ever."

His jaw clenched. "It's finished."

With a swift motion, he turned toward the shower, and twisted the knob.

Warm water burst to life, cascading down and filling the air with a soothing rhythm. His eyes closed, head tilting back as the droplets washed away the weight of his memories. The sound of his clothes hitting the floor blended with the steady beat of water against marble.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

Rudraksh made his way down the stairs, dressed in a light-blue shirt paired with grey trousers, buttoning his cuffs with practiced precision. The silver Titan watch on his right wrist gleamed in the morning light, casting a subtle sheen across his skin. His hair was neatly combed, framing his clean-shaven, diamond-shaped face.

Lifting his gaze, he relaxed his arms at his sides as he approached the dining area. His thin, almond-shaped eyes crinkled at the sight of his younger brother looking up at him with a wide smile.

"You're looking very handsome, bhaiya!" Vardhaman exclaimed. "But… are you going somewhere?" He blinked curiously.

Rudraksh chuckled, the sound deep and infectious. "I look like a sunken mango, Maan." Taking a seat beside him, he exhaled a slow breath. "And yeah, the new CEO has called a meeting, summoning all the team leads… and me."

Vardhaman shook his head, frowning slightly. "No, it's just because you've lost too much weight. A little gym and some proper diet, and you'll be back to your real charm." He finished his advice with a wink and a toothy grin.

Rudraksh drew in a deep breath, puffing out his chest before bowing dramatically before his brother. "Thank you for your prescription, doctor sahab. I'll be sure to follow your instructions."

The dining room got filled with siblings' laughter. They sat down to devour their lunch: golden-brown puri, shahi paneer, creamy bundi raita, navratan pulao, and white rasgulla dipped in sugar syrup.

Rudraksh's eyes darted around the dining area, his gaze lingering on the empty chairs as he chewed his food. Swallowing the last bite, he ran his fingers along the rim of the plate, collecting the remaining gravy before setting it down. Pushing his chair back, he rose and made his way toward the kitchen.

Vardhaman followed suit, mimicking his brother's actions.

The clinking of metal against metal echoed as they placed their plates in the sink. Water splashed, and the faint scent of handwash rose as they cleaned their hands.

Rudraksh dried his hands with a handkerchief, glancing around once more. "Where is everyone?" he asked evenly.

Vardhaman blinked, his brows furrowing. "Who?"

Rudraksh's expression remained composed, though the corner of his lips twitched. "Your parents?" he clarified, his tone dry.

Vardhaman's eyebrows shot up, and he pressed his lips together. "You mean, our parents?"

Rudraksh poked his tongue into his cheek, struggling to suppress a smile, his eyes fixed intently on his brother's face—

Vardhaman's restrained giggle finally burst out. Tilting his head to one side, he called out, making Rudraksh's eyebrows furrow. "Mom! Dad! Bhaiya's asking for you both!"

Rudraksh's eyes widened, and he spun around, his face flushing with hesitant embarrassment.

Vardhaman's laughter still echoed as he bounced out of the kitchen, leaving Rudraksh behind in awkward silence.

Anusuiya entered, her red saree with golden dots rustling softly as she walked. Her face radiated warmth, an affectionate smile spreading across her features.

Aanand followed closely, his embroidered white kurta-pyjama a striking contrast to his wife's vibrant attire. His expression was stern, his hands clasped behind his back.

Rudraksh lowered his gaze, his footsteps measured and hesitant as he approached his mother and bent down to touch her feet.

Anusuiya's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her lips quivering as she tried to maintain her smile. "Prosper well, my child." She grasped Rudraksh's arms gently, urging him to stand. "May God bless you with all the happiness in the world. Always keep smiling and laughing."

Cradling his face in her palms, she pulled him into a tight embrace. Rudraksh's eyes widened before he slowly returned the gesture. The soft scent of her saree and his cologne mingled in the air, wrapping them in a quiet wave of calm.

Aanand exhaled heavily, shifting his weight. "Leave him, Anusuiya. He's getting late. You can shower him with love when he returns."

Anusuiya let out a light laugh, releasing Rudraksh and dabbing the corners of her eyes with her saree’s edge. "Eat a spoon of dahi-shakkar before leaving for work," she said warmly.

Rudraksh nodded faintly, his gaze flickering toward his father. He bent again to touch his feet, the motion swift this time.

Still stern, Aanand patted Rudraksh's shoulder firmly. "Wear warm clothes. It's cold outside. And… take the car."

"That's not my car," Rudraksh replied quietly, lowering his gaze. "And I'm just another employee, not the owner."

Aanand's jaw tightened as he stared at his son's bowed head.

Anusuiya returned with a small bowl of curd and sugar, stirring it with a spoon before holding it up to his lips.

Rudraksh parted his lips and let the sweetness dissolve on his tongue, then turned and walked out of the kitchen.

The soft thud of his footsteps faded into the distance, leaving behind the warmth of his mother's gaze and the weight of his father's silence.

The phone's shrill ring pierced the quiet.

Aanand's eyes narrowed as he reached into his kurta pocket, fingers brushing the soft fabric until he pulled out the mobile.

"Khush raho, beta, khush raho!" he said warmly into the receiver.

As he listened, his eyes brightened, and his eyebrows rose.

Anusuiya's curious gaze fixed on him.

"So, you're coming, right?!" His tone lifted with hope.

"Okay, okay, I'll be at the airport on time, then."

Aanand's smile broadened as he ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

"Who was it?" Anusuiya asked, a soft smile curving her lips.

Aanand's smile lingered, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You'll know tonight." With a gentle nod, he turned and walked toward his study, the faint rustle of his kurta trailing behind him.

A/N: A part that delves deeper into the parent-child relationship. Hope you enjoyed it.