Mausa = Mother's sister's husband

Chachi = Father's brother's wife

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The warm fur blankets and Mickey Mouse bedsheets tangled around Ira and Panchhi's legs and torsos. They lay with their backs to each other, their bodies rising and falling with each gentle breath. The closed door and windows blocked out most of the sunlight, but the ceiling glowed softly, illuminated by the warm rays peeking through the ventilator.

Panchhi's legs stretched out straight, her feet relaxed, while her hands sprawled outward, elbows bent in a loose, childlike pose.

Ira lay surrounded by a fortress of pillows, each one carefully positioned to cradle her body. A pillow beneath her head supported her weight, her brown hair cascading across it like a tangle of dark snakes. Another pillow propped up her feet, while two more flanked her sides, providing a sense of security and comfort.

The door swung open with a loud thud, flooding the room with sunlight that danced across the marbled floor. The jingling of anklets and bangles announced someone's arrival, the sound growing louder with each step.

The sudden interruption made the sisters' eyelids flicker, their faces scrunching in protest.

The woman swiftly yanked away the blankets. Ira and Panchhi's bodies jerked in response, their faces contorting in sleepy dismay. Their hands fluttered wildly, grasping for the edges of the bedsheets, which they pulled up to their eyes in a futile attempt to shield themselves from the sudden brightness.

"Get up, sleeping beauties! It's already 11 a.m.! Do the chores!" she screamed, her voice sharp enough to pierce eardrums.

Panchhi's lips twisted as she retorted, "We're not your servants!"

"Then do you people come here only to sleep and be served?!" The woman's hands planted firmly on her hips, her stance widening as she glared at the sisters.

Panchhi tossed the blanket onto the floor and swung her legs over the bed. She mirrored the woman's stance - hands on hips, chin lifted. "Just like you, isn't it?"

The woman's expression soured further, her lips pursed. She strode toward Ira's side, her footsteps heavy, and snatched the pillow from Ira's grasp, making her face fall into the mattress with a soft thud.

"Who is this pillow?! Your husband?! That not even the air is passing between you two?!"

Ira's teeth clenched, her eyes squeezed shut. Her lips parted, but she fell silent as Panchhi's voice cut in.

"Oh yeah, Ira di. See how experienced mami is? She knows exactly that the air doesn't pass when you sleep with your husband like that."

The aunt's face twisted, her mouth parting in outrage.

"Come on, Ira di. Let's get some fresh air." Panchhi gestured for Ira to follow as she turned toward the door.

Ira silently swung her legs over the bed, her feet dangling for a moment before touching the cold floor. She rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn, her shoulders sagging slightly as she trailed behind Panchhi.

The aunt stood rigid, eyes narrowed, hands still on her hips. "Huh! Don't know what these little lizards think of themselves! Standing in my house and talking back to me?" She paused, breathing heavily, then muttered loathingly, "Whichever house these two little brats go to, they'll ruin the peace of the people there too."

With a final twist of her mouth, she spun on her heel, her saree rustling as she strode out of the room.

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"After the death of a hundred witches, this witch must have taken birth." Panchhi's lips twisted, her eyebrows knitting together to form a V-shape at the center.

The damp, earthy scent of the wheat fields enveloped them as they walked, their bare feet sinking into the wet soil, the cool mud squishing between their toes. The warm sunlight struggled to pierce the thick veil of fog, casting a faint golden glow over the landscape.

Panchhi glanced over her shoulder. "Ira di?"

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft rustle of the wheat stalks swaying in the breeze.

"Can you please cut my hair, Panchhi?" Ira asked in a low voice.

Panchhi spun around, her eyes widening and mouth agape before she composed herself. "Di, you okay?" Her voice softened.

Ira's eyes darted between the lock of hair in her hand and Panchhi's concerned face, her gaze lingering on her sister's furrowed brows. "Yeah. Just want a change." Her voice was steady.

Panchhi placed her hands on either side of her waist. "Di, you're high."

"What?"

Panchhi nodded firmly, her long black hair swaying gently as she turned and continued walking, her feet sinking into the damp soil. "Yes. Normally people get high on alcohol, but you-you get high on emotions."

Ira's eyes stayed fixed on Panchhi's back, her gaze intense.

"And it's dangerous. You'll regret it," Panchhi warned.

"I won't. Give me a haircut - till armpit."

Panchhi shrugged. "Okay."

The sisters walked in comfortable silence, surrounded by wheat crops that swayed gently beside them. Panchhi reached out to touch a tender shoot, her fingers brushing against the soft green leaves. "Ira di, look." She plucked a delicate wheat bud and held it out to Ira.

Ira's eyes lifted, following Panchhi's gesture. She took the wheat bud, bringing it to her nose to inhale its fresh, green scent. "Mmm."

Panchhi smiled, watching her sister savor the fragrance. "Let's sit for a bit," she suggested, gesturing toward a nearby patch of grass.

They settled down, their backs resting against the gentle slope of the land, and watched the wheat crops sway in the breeze. The warm sunlight cast a golden glow over the landscape, highlighting the vibrant greens of the fields and the serene expressions on the sisters' faces.

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The LED lights on the ceiling cast a warm glow, illuminating the faint creases on Karan's forehead as he furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes fixed on the mobile screen in his hand.

His fingers hovered over the screen, typing out a response as he walked with long, silent strides. His blue jeans and white hoodie stood out in sharp contrast to the formal atmosphere of the company.

A new message popped up, and his lips curled into a warm smile.

Siddharth
Happy birthday, bro!

Karan's fingers danced across the screen, typing out a response. He pressed on the send button, his eyes scanning the screen for a response.

Karan
Thanks, bro!
Let's meet tonight.

The reply came almost instantly.

Siddharth
Sure!
Now, I gotta go, Karan.
Work.
Bye! See you tonight.

Karan's smile lingered as he typed out a quick response.

Karan
Bye!

His gaze fell upon Rudraksh's name on the screen, and his lips pressed into a tight line. His eyes lingered on the date "31st December" before flicking to the top, where the words "Last messaged" seemed to mock him.

He closed his eyes, releasing a slow, controlled breath. His shoulders lifted in a barely perceptible shrug before he slipped the phone into his jeans pocket. With measured strides, he continued walking, his footsteps echoing softly through the corridor.

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Siddharth's lips pressed together as he set his phone down on the cluttered tabletop, surrounded by scattered tablets and reports. His hand lingered for a moment, fingers drumming a rhythmic beat on the edge of the table before he pulled back. Straightening his back, his eyes narrowed at the sight of his dear friend's unbothered expression.

Rudraksh, dressed in blue trousers and a T-shirt, lay propped against the hospital bed's headboard, a pillow tucked behind his back. Thick white bandages wrapped snugly around his forehead. A pink cast encased his left wrist, held in a cotton sling that looped gently around his neck. Purple bruises bloomed across his cheekbones and jawline, while swollen scratches etched his skin like map lines.

Sensing Siddharth's stare, he turned to face him and blinked twice, sipping the coconut water through a straw held between his teeth.

Siddharth jabbed a finger at him, his voice low and stern. "Don't give me that look, boy. I'm constantly lying for you."

"You're an advocate, Sid." The straw in his mouth twitched with the movement of his lips. He glanced at Siddharth's calm face from the corner of his eye. "When am I getting discharged, though?"

"By tomorrow morning."

Rudraksh's lips twitched, stretching into a wry smile. His eyebrows drew together, a faint crease forming between them as he watched his friend's distress. "Cool, Sid. Karan's easy to make up with."

Siddharth's gaze lifted, locking onto Rudraksh's. "Rudraksh, Karan will understand - after cursing us till his heart finds peace."

Rudraksh nodded, his eyes drifting shut as a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"But what about your family?" Siddharth asked, exhaling tiredly.

Rudraksh's chin dipped toward his chest. He stared at the straw peeking out of the now-empty coconut.

Siddharth slapped both palms on his thighs and pushed himself up. "Okay. You think. Till then, I'll visit the police station and get all the information regarding the accident and insurance."

He took a step closer. "Take care. And don't stress." He placed a gentle hand on Rudraksh's shoulder, his voice softening.

Rudraksh didn't flinch, his gaze still fixed somewhere beyond the straw, his expression unreadable. Siddharth gave his shoulder a light squeeze before turning to leave. The sound of the door closing behind him seemed to deepen the silence in the room, leaving Rudraksh alone with his thoughts.

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The soft gust of wind rustled the wheat leaves around them, carrying the sweet scent of damp earth and fresh growth.

"So?" Panchhi asked. "How's life treating you lately?"

Ira's gaze drifted, her eyes lost in the distance as she absently toyed with a green wheat leaf between her fingers. The rough texture slid across her fingertips. "Just passing days," she whispered heavily.

Panchhi shifted her position on the ground, bringing a hand behind her head to adjust her hair. As she looked up, the sun played hide-and-seek between the grey clouds, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

"Still think of jumping off the roof or getting on the train tracks?"

Ira's chin dipped into her chest, her head shaking slowly.

Panchhi turned to the side, studying her sisters veiled face as if searching for hidden truth behind Ira's calm exterior. "And the medicine? Do you take it on time or still skip it?" Her voice was firm but laced with concern.

Ira's lips barely moved as she replied, "It's over. Now I don't need them."

Panchhi nodded, a faint smile curving her lips. Her gaze lingered on her sister. "And thyroid?"

Ira's expression remained neutral, but her eyes flickered briefly as she replied in a steady voice, "Normal. Just weakness and pain."

A soft "Hmm..." escaped Panchhi's lips, and a comfortable silence enveloped them once again.

"Do they still fight like that?"

Ira nodded, her chin dipping slightly.

A deep breath escaped Panchhi's nose, and she shook her head, straightening her posture. "They're like dogs' tails," she muttered, her voice low and tired.

Ira's lips parted, and a dry chuckle escaped, barely audible. Her body remained still, her gaze fixed on some distant point ahead.

Panchhi's hands moved to smooth the fabric of her long frock, her fingers gliding over the intricate embroidery as her gaze drifted into the distance, eyes narrowing. "When you were here and I was there, there was a huge fight."

She paused, then continued, "I had never seen anything like it in my life till then. And I'm glad you weren't there. The way they were behaving, and the condition you were in... you wouldn't have been alive today."

Ira's face lifted, her eyes locking onto Panchhi's as she tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

Panchhi blinked, her expression neutral, though her eyes clouded over with memories. "Your chachi came with her daughter to see your grandfather," she said, her voice steady. "To see him or to stir chaos - hard to say." Her eyebrows arched slowly, her lips twisting.

"First, she shed those crocodile tears after seeing Dada on his deathbed. Then she roamed around the whole house, and her stance screamed jealousy. After a couple of hours, she left. Your father escorted them to the station. When he came back, I don't know what happened to your mom - she started fighting with your father like it would be the last day of their lives."

She swallowed hard before continuing. "She accused him of dirty things... said there was some affair going on between your father and your aunt."

Ira's nose wrinkled, her eyebrows furrowed as she processed the words. "Wh...at?"

Panchhi nodded. "Yeah, that was exactly our reaction," she said dryly. "Anyway, more cruel fights followed, and mausa tried to... cut himself under a train. It was serious. I was literally shivering in fear." Her eyes narrowed as she recalled the memory.

Ira's gaze fixed intently on Panchhi's face - her lips pressed together, expression exhausted.

"After that," Panchhi went on, "Mausi started nagging and ranting in front of Bhaiya, narrating the ways her in-laws had tortured her and ruined her life. That your father and his family were monsters." Her words spilled rapidly, her voice rising a little. "In a blink, Bhaiya was standing there with blood dripping from his forehead."

Ira's eyes widened, her lips parting in disbelief.

Panchhi's voice dropped low. "He had smashed a pickle jar against his own forehead. Blood was pouring down, glass shards stuck in his skin. But there wasn't a single tear, not even fear in his eyes. Just anger and frustration."

The silence between them grew heavier, broken only by the soft rustling of the crops.

Panchhi spoke again, her voice calm but sharp. "Your family is horrible, Ira di. And very toxic."

The wind whispered through the wheat leaves once more, carrying the faint scent of rain. The sisters sat in oppressive silence, the only sounds the soft rustling of the leaves and the distant hum of the world beyond their little clearing.

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Karan exhaled deeply, leaning back in the black leather chair. The headrest cradled his head as his legs swayed side to side, creating a gentle rocking motion. A pencil twirled between the forefinger and thumb of both hands.

His eyes drifted to the round clock on the cream-colored wall - the hour hand steady at five, the minute hand at twelve. His brows furrowed, deepening the lines on his forehead as he abruptly pushed himself up from the chair, sending it rolling backward with a soft squeak.

The thud of his shoes on the floor grew louder as he approached the door and stepped out into the corridor.

His footsteps continued until they stopped in front of a door marked in bold white letters:

RUDRAKSH MAURYA

Karan inhaled deeply and pushed the door open.

"Rudr-"

His face contorted. "What the hell?"

He strode toward the attached bathroom, his footsteps echoing off the walls.

"Rudraksh, are you in there?"

He twisted the knob, and the door swung open to reveal an empty bathroom. "Rudrak-"

Karan's narrowed eyes scanned the space. "What's wrong with this man? He didn't come yesterday either. How can he be so careless?" He slid his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone.

The screen flickered to life, and his fingers moved swiftly.

The number you have dialed is currently out of the network area. You can stay on the line or try again later.

Karan's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening. He tried again - the same automated voice repeated the message.

"What the heck is wrong with you, Rudraksh?!"

The sound of approaching footsteps in the corridor made Karan spin around. He stepped toward the door, scanning the hallway until his eyes locked on a familiar figure.

"Kshay?" Karan's long strides quickly closed the distance.

Kshay lifted his gaze, meeting Karan's narrowed eyes. A white envelope rested in his right hand, his expression unreadable.

"What happened?" Kshay asked flatly.

Karan's voice came low and urgent. "Your younger brother hasn't shown up at the office for two days now. Aren't you concerned?"

Kshay inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling as he raised an eyebrow. "Though, Karan, my younger brother spends most of his time with you." His eyes glinted with quiet amusement. "So, shouldn't I be the one asking you that question?"

He tucked the envelope into his navy-blue pants pocket, the fabric rustling softly. "You two are practically stuck together like a newly wedded couple. So, you should know more than me about your dear friend's whereabouts."

Karan's hand twitched upward, his forefinger pointing. But before he could respond, Kshay turned and walked away with long, unhurried strides.

Karan's jaw clenched, the muscles in his face tightening as his teeth ground together. His fingers curled into a fist, the tendons straining before he forced his hand to relax.

He pulled out his phone again, pressing it against his ear as his breath grew heavy.

"Hello?" A high-pitched, warm voice answered.

Karan's expression softened, his eyebrows easing as he absently scratched the edge of his hairline.

"Aunty, pranam," he said hesitantly. "Rudra-"

"Karan? Khush raho, beta, khush raho!" Anusuiya's affectionate voice interrupted him mid-sentence. "Yes, put him on! It's been two days since I spoke to my son. What's keeping him so busy at work?"

Karan's face scrunched slightly, his eyes narrowing as he repeated under his breath, "Work?"

Anusuiya's tone sharpened with concern. "What happened, beta? Are you not with him? Siddharth said Rudraksh is away on some business trip. So you must be with him, right?"

As she spoke, Karan's gaze unfocused, his eyes fixing on the patterned wall ahead.

On which business trip has this rascal gone without me? And Siddharth...? What the hell is going on-

His jaw tightened, his teeth gritting together.

"Karan?!" Anusuiya's anxious voice cut through his thoughts.

He jerked slightly, shaking his head as if clearing it. "Yeah! Yeah, aunty, yeah!" He rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers kneading the tension.

"I'm with him. He's busy with clients, so I thought I'd inform you about our whereabouts." His eyes closed briefly, his head tilting back as the lines on his forehead deepened. When he looked up again, his expression was calm. "We'll be returning soon. Okay, aunty. I'll hang up now."

He ended the call with a swift tap, the screen fading to black. A long breath escaped him, his shoulders sagging as the tension drained away.

For a moment, he stood still. Then his eyes narrowed again, resolve hardening his features.

He unlocked his phone, the screen's pale glow washing over his face. His thumbs moved quickly through the contacts.

Bringing the phone to his ear, his voice came out firm and edged with restrained urgency.

"Where is Rudraksh, Siddharth?"

A/N: Hey, guys! Today, I've a very interesting question for you people to answer.

1. Though, some claim it to be true, some completely deny this, while some fall in between. Do you believe in ghosts? Like, have you ever felt that some negative energy is there in the surroundings, or have you ever encountered something or someone like paranormal?

2. Any comments about Ira's family?

3. What do you think about Rudraksh's little plan, and their friendship?