Aai = Mother in Marathi
Bahen = Sister, a casual way to address other women

The car screeched to a halt, and Aanand's body jerked forward in the back seat. The bodyguard's eyes met his in the rearview mirror, hands still gripping the steering wheel. Aanand's stern gaze held his for a moment before the bodyguard looked away, his eyes darting towards the side window.

"Balwant, you stay here." Aanand's authoritative voice commanded, prompting a nod from the bodyguard. The sound of fabric rustling filled the silence inside the car as Aanand opened the door and stepped out. The creak of the gate opening and the soft splashing of footsteps on the damp road followed.

Balwant exhaled a deep breath, his worry palpable as he watched Aanand disappear into the darkness. He prayed for the moments that would follow, his eyes fixed on the spot where Aanand had vanished.

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The cold night air clung to Aanand's cream-coloured shawl wrapped body. But as soon as Aanand put his first step inside the station, a flurry of salutes and attention showered towards him as a level of decorum and formality as one of the judicial authoritative figures. The sound of chairs scraping against the floor and the rustling of uniforms filled the air. Constables stood up straight, their eyes fixed on Aanand with a mix of respect and apprehension.

But, amidst the respectful and fearful chaos, his ears perked at the murmurs coming out from a few lips.

"Hey, you heard?"

"What?"

"That drunkard boy is his son."

"Really? Ram-Ram, what day has come. If a judge's son will not care about law and order, what morals will others get, huh?"

Aanand's jaw clenched at the hushed conversation as he made his way towards the SHO's office with a stern expression and firm steps. The soft creak of the cemented floor beneath his feet echoing through the corridor. His eyes narrowed slightly, and the crease between his eyebrows deepened, betraying his growing unease. The constables parted to let him pass with four fingers attached to the side of their forehead.

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The SHO's ears perked at the firm footsteps pounding against the floor. He lifted his gaze from the paperwork, his chair rolling back with a gentle squeak as he stood up. His eyes met Aanand's-a mix of respect and caution reflected in his gaze. His hands moved swiftly to touch his forehead in a salute. "Jai Hind, sir!"

Aanand clasped his hands behind his back, his posture straightening as he replied, "Jai Hind," with a firm nod. The sound of his own voice was deep and authoritative, filling the small office.

The SHO's eyes followed Aanand's gaze as it flickered towards the cell. Rudraksh Maurya's head and half his side rested on the cemented bench, while his other hand and leg hung limply in the air. The dim fluorescent light above cast an eerie glow on the scene.

The SHO took his seat, the leather creaking softly as it dipped slightly under his weight. He gestured to Aanand to follow suit. With a curt nod, Aanand took the seat and pulled out a paper from his kurta's pocket, placing it on the table.

The SHO took the paper and read each word written on it thoroughly, his eyes scanning the document with a mixture of curiosity and caution. He exhaled a deep breath, his expression unreadable, and pulled out a pen from the pen box. With a swift motion, he signed the bail bond. "Dubey, release Mr. Rudraksh Maurya."

The crinkling of metal echoed through the surroundings as Constable Dubey worked on the task. He turned towards the authoritative figures with a concerned expression betraying a hint of fear. "Sir, he is still unconscious."

The SHO's gaze drifted towards Aanand, who sat looking at the table with a blank expression. His eyes seemed distant, yet his posture exuded authority, commanding respect without effort. The SHO stood up, his chair scraping softly against the floor, and stepped back as Aanand got up making his way towards the cell.

Constable Dubey stepped aside, clearing the way for the judge with a slight bow. Aanand's features remained a mask of nothingness as he pushed open the metal door-the sound seemed to reverberate through the silence.

As soon as he entered the cell, the sharp smell of vomit hit his senses, and his nostrils flared in distaste. His jaw clenched, and eyebrows furrowed, deepening the lines on his forehead. His gaze swept the small space, taking in the dingy walls and the narrow bench. Then, his eyes landed on his passed-out son.

Rudraksh lay sprawled on the bench, his brown hair messily tangled over his closed eyes and ears. His nose and cheeks reflected a reddish flush, a stark contrast to his soft golden skin tone. The black fluffy jacket's zipper was undone, revealing his coffee-coloured shirt, which was damp and stained with vomit. The pair of black jeans against his legs was dusty-telling a tale of struggles while being intoxicated.

Aanand's eyes lingered on his son's face, and for a moment, his mask slipped. A flicker of sadness danced in his eyes, and his lips compressed into a thin line. He stood there, frozen in time, as memories flooded his mind. When was the last time he saw a genuine smile on his son's face? The question hung in the air, unanswered, as he gazed at Rudraksh's peaceful yet troubled form.

He took a step closer, his footsteps echoing off the cold walls. Rudraksh's chest rose and fell in a slow, rhythmic motion. Aanand reached out a hand, his fingers hovering over Rudraksh's forehead before gently brushing the hair back, revealing the fresh marks of six stitches above his left eyebrow. The sight seemed to cut deeper into Aanand's heart, his expression a mix of concern and paternal worry.

Exhaling a deep breath, Aanand straightened his back and adjusted the shawl around his shoulders, the soft fabric wrapping around him like a gentle hug. With a practiced motion, he slid his hands under Rudraksh's waist and calves, sweeping him into his arms with a little effort. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as he felt the weight of his son, the worry evident in the creases on his forehead.

Shrugging off these worried thoughts, Aanand approached the cell's lower gate with economical and precise movements. He kneeled to his waist level, adjusting Rudraksh's lolling form in his arm, and carefully came out of the cell.

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The night air carried the scent of damp earth and leaves as Aanand stepped out. Balwant was waiting, leaning against the car's window, his eyes fixed on some distant point. As soon as his gaze fell on Aanand carrying Rudraksh's limp form in his arms, his eyebrows shot up in disbelief. He blinked a few times, as if to shake off the image, but Aanand's stern voice broke the spell. "Open the gate, Balwant."

Balwant nodded hastily, his eyes still wide with surprise, and inserted the keys, opening the gate with a soft click. Aanand got Rudraksh inside the backseat, carefully arranging his son's limbs before settling himself beside him.

Balwant got into the driver's seat and started the engine, and the car came to life, humming softly. Behind, Rudraksh's head rested on his father's lap in his vulnerable form. Aanand's gaze seemed to focus on some infinite point, while his fingers gently caressed his son's hair, a tender gesture that belied his stern exterior. "First, get to the hospital, afterwards home." His low authoritative voice earned a firm nod from Balwant.

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The stillness of the night, punctuated by the occasional honking of cars, scooters and other vehicles, enveloped them like a damp blanket. The fragrance of crops and flowers from nearby fields wafted through the air were contradicting the turmoil brewing inside them. Siddharth's hands moved in sync with his focused gaze, tracing the path to their houses. The soft hum of the engine accompanied his precise movements.

Karan, sitting in the passenger seat, leaned back, his eyes lost in the darkness outside. His voice broke the silence, low and measured. "What is gender equality, Siddharth?"

The soft glow of the dashboard lights cast a warm ambiance inside the car, contrasting with the cool night air that wafted in through the slightly ajar window. Siddharth's eyebrows furrowed, his gaze flicking to Karan for a moment before returning to the road. "Why are you asking this all of a sudden, Karan?" His calm voice was a gentle probe.

Karan's gaze drifted back to Siddharth, his expression a mask of stoicism. "I was going to get a sentence of seven years of imprisonment-just because I pushed a girl, that too not so harshly." His voice was a monotone, a still river that belied the turmoil beneath. He paused, collecting his thoughts like scattered puzzle pieces. "Can I file a case against her, because she not only pushed Rudraksh wildly in front of the crowd, but also hurt his modesty with harsh verbal attacks?"

Siddharth's smile crept up, his eyes still fixed on the road. The car took a sharp curved turn, their bodies leaning to the side in tandem. "You are referring to the justice inequality, Karan." His deep voice mingled with the soft roar of the engine, a soothing melody that contrasted with the tension in the air.

Karan's eyebrows furrowed, confusion etched on his face. "Justice inequality?"

Siddharth hummed, his voice measured. "Though you cannot file a case against a woman just for pushing a man, because physically, men and women are different. But about the verbal abuse attacking a man's modesty-Do you really think our society, or the mobs and the media would support a man for standing up to an abuser, especially a female abuser?" A hollow laugh escaped his lips, echoing through the silent night inside the car.

The darkness outside seemed to press in, the only sound the hum of the engine and Siddharth's dry laughter. Karan's face contorted, his usual sharp tone returning. "Why?" he asked, his voice laced with frustration. "Do modesty only exist among women?"

Siddharth's laughter filled the car, a deep, rich sound that resonated through the silence. "That's a very deep question, Karan." He sniffled, his lips curling into a half-smile as he gazed out at the dark road illuminated by the car's headlights.

Siddharth's eyes sparkled with introspection as he began to explain. "Let's say, Karan, our society has evolved that way. No one ever pays attention to a man's modesty, and men don't complain about it, either."

Siddharth noticed Karan's knitted eyebrows in confusion. The darkness outside seemed to press in, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional distant bark of a dog. "Let's understand from a simple example: If a boy's body parts get brushed with a girl's even by mistake, ethically, he should apologise to her." His voice was measured, his hands moving subtly as he steered the car through the winding road. "The reason-she is a girl, and we are taught since childhood to respect a girl's modesty. But, if it's the other way around, that topic has never been discussed."

Siddharth's eyes fixed on the headlights' beam cutting through the darkness. "The worst thing is-even if a man is being mentally or sexually harassed by a woman, he has no right to complain."

Karan's face reflected the dashboard lights, his confusion evident. "Why? Do we have no laws against that?"

Siddharth exchanged a look with Karan. "You are really very innocent, Karan," he said calmly, still smiling to himself.

"Well, there are a couple of laws, but on paper only. Because, our legislation completely neglects the fact that a man can be a victim, too." Siddharth's voice was tinged with a hint of bitterness. "And, I have seen juries laughing at a male victim who complained of being harassed sexually by a woman." The silence that followed was oppressive, the only sound was the soft hum of the engine.

Karan's forehead lines deepened in utter confusion and disbelief. "But, why? If there are laws then why is it not implemented?"

Siddharth's lips compressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing slightly as he navigated the dark road. "There are only one or two laws in men's favour, Karan, whereas it's fifty plus in women's." His voice was measured, but a hint of frustration seeped through. "To the maximum, if a man wants to get justice, he must present very, very, very strong evidence in his favor."

And if, by the grace of God, he won the case, the woman will hardly get an imprisonment of one year, even though the law says it's three years, because the judiciary is very lenient on women criminals." His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, the soft glow of the dashboard lights casting a stark contrast to the tension in his body. "It is, Karan. It is what it is. Harassment faced by men in all forms has always been a non-existent topic in gender neutrality."

Karan's gaze dropped, his eyes fixed on the metal beneath his legs as he absorbed the harsh reality of so-called gender equality. Siddharth continued, his voice tinged with a hint of anger. "There has always been a topic of discussion that we call 'gender pay gap', but no one ever raises their voice about 'gender justice gap'." His eyes flashed with frustration. "And you know what, not one woman till date has been hanged by the jury since independence even after committing a bunch of heinous crimes."

The air inside the car felt heavy. Karan's voice was barely audible. "So, you won't be able to help that man?"

Before Siddharth could respond, the car screeched to a halt, throwing them both forward in reflex. Karan's face snapped towards Siddharth, whose jaw was clenched tightly, his eyebrows furrowed-a stark contrast to his usual composed self.

The sudden stop seemed to have taken a moment to register, and then Siddharth sighed heavily, his expression softening. He turned to Karan with a pretty smile on his face. "Your home." The smile seemed forced, but it was a smile nonetheless, contrasting the tension that had filled the car just moments before.

Karan's gaze lingered for noticeable seconds before he mirrored Siddharth's expression. "Good night. And, thanks again." Siddharth's smile reached his eyes, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Good night. And, take care."

As Siddharth spoke, Karan clicked open the gate, the metal creaking softly as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, a wave of chilly night air splashed through his body making his eyes narrowed in reflex. He waved once again bidding the goodbye for the day.

Siddharth returned the wave with eyes crinkling at the corners. The car's headlights cast a brief glow on Karan's figure before fading into the darkness as Siddharth drove away. Karan watched the car disappear into the night, the sound of the engine growing fainter until it was replaced by the stillness of night.

Karan stood there for a moment, lost in thought, replaying their conversation in his mind. He shook his head and turned towards his house, the porch light casting a warm glow that beckoned him forward.

A woman in her mid-forty, draped in a light pink saree with white dots scattered through, was pacing before the main iron door with hands clasped behind her back. The soft clinking of golden bangles accompanied her gentle movements. Her hair was tied in a loose bun, a few strands framing her face.

By the door side, a girl in her mid-teens sat, wearing a full sleeve white t-shirt and a pair of white trousers. Her elbow-length black hair made a veil as she continuously dodged off-fighting her sleep. The dim porch light cast a warm glow on her features, highlighting her delicate bone structure.

Her gaze fell on Karan, who was hiding behind the bushes, pressing a forefinger against his lips with pleading eyes. The girl's eyes widened in excitement, and she jumped from her seat. Her feet pattered against the floor as she ran towards Karan's direction, shouting in excitement. "Bhaiya! Bhaiya! Aai! Bhaiya is here!"

Her voice pierced the night air, and Karan slapped his hand against his forehead. She launched herself at him, nearly knocking him off balance. Karan's eyes widened in alarm as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and legs around his waist holding him tightly.

Karan's face contorted in mock pain. "Can't you keep quiet? Didn't I gesture to you not to make any sound, stupid Kanak?" he chided her whisperly in her ears.

"Aai! Bhaiya is scolding me and calling me stupid!" she screamed, glaring at her brother with a scrunched nose and pouty lips. Karan furrowed his eyebrows. "Get down. I'm not your brother anymore." Kanak's grin only grew wider, and she pulled his clean-shaved cheeks, grinning sheepishly. "You are my lovely, angry-bird brother."

A chuckle escaped Karan's lips, and he gently kissed Kanak's forehead. Adjusting his little sister in his arms, Karan approached their mother, who was looking at him with a furious gaze. Karan laughed awkwardly. "Aai..."

Rukmini's hand swiftly connected with Kanak's bum, making her lips quiver dramatically. "Get down!" Kanak got down, rubbing her bum with a scrunched nose.

Karan stood there, his lips pressed together, struggling to control his laughter. A hiss escaped his lips as Rukmini's gaze turned to him. "Aai! ah!"

Rukmini's fingers closed around his ear, twisting it harshly. "Where were you? No calls, no messages, have you seen the time!? Staying out all night, is this the teachings I have given you!?" Karan's head bowed under the pressure, his mouth open in a silent cry of pain.

"Aai, aai, aai, sorry, sorry, sorry! I was not outside, seriously. It's just some work that came out, and I was planning that with Rudraksh." Karan's words tumbled out in a rush, his voice shaking slightly.

Rukmini released his ear, which had turned a deep shade of red. She held her hands against her chest, eyes narrowing as she lifted her gaze to meet Karan's who was caressing his sore ear. "Beta, I am your mother. Don't teach me. I have talked to both Anusuiya bahen and Apoorva bahen on phone calls."

Karan's eyes widened, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "W-what did they say?"

Rukmini's steady gaze held him captive before she broke the silence in a neutral tone. "Come inside. Eat the food, and go to sleep."

Karan swallowed hard, trying to lubricate his dried throat. Then, both siblings followed their mother's lead, entering the house. The door closed behind them with a soft thud, enveloping them in the warmth and familiarity of their home.

A/N: Some deep and buried truth of our society, and many more are on the way. Share your insights and opinions if it is any different in your place.

Bye, by! See you in the next part.