It was 5:00 a.m.
While the city still slept beneath the soft blue of dawn, Saanvi Iyer had already begun her day.
She swept the floors, wiped down every surface, lit the diya near the tulsi plant, and moved quietly into the kitchen. The batter was ready—fluffy idlis for breakfast, fresh coconut chutney grinding in the mixie. She moved with the rhythm of habit—feeding the birds on the terrace, rolling warm roti for the cow outside, washing the utensils in silence.
It was muscle memory now.
No one saw her.
No one thanked her.
By 6:30, she was ready—wearing a pale blue kurta over jeans, her damp hair falling in soft waves down her back. She looked into the mirror for half a second, then walked to the nearby Mahadev temple barefoot.
The air smelled of sandalwood and wet earth. Bells chimed softly as she folded her hands before the idol, her lips moving in silent prayer.
“Give me strength,” I whispered.
Not love. Not miracles.
Just strength to survive.
I bowed to the Panditji, touched his feet, and accepted the prasad before returning home.
By 7:30 a.m., the peace of the temple had already worn off.
As soon as I stepped into the house, my uncle's face twisted into disgust.
“Of course you ran off early,” he muttered, throwing his newspaper aside. “And now this burden is back.”
My aunt didn’t miss a beat. “Shameless girl. You added so much salt in the food, are you trying to kill us too? Already devoured your own parents, now you want to finish us off?”
Their words struck like stones.
Sharp.
Cruel.
Too practiced to be accidental.
My throat tightened, but I didn’t say a word. I simply picked up my college bag and turned toward the exit.
“College, huh?” my uncle scoffed behind me. “God knows what she does there. Filthy girl.”
“She must be after some boy,” my aunt hissed. “Slut born to ruin families.”
I didn’t look back. My feet moved faster. My eyes burned—but I wouldn’t let the tears fall. Not here. Not in this house.
In College Campus
The moment I spotted Aadhya, I felt the tight knot in my chest loosen.
Aadhya was running towards me like a hurricane in sneakers—messy hair, oversized tote bag, sparkly nails, and enough drama in her voice to start a soap opera.
“There you are,meri jaan !” she gasped, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. “You look like you’ve survived a tsunami.”
I let out a tired laugh. “More like emotional flooding.”
As we sat beneath the old gulmohar tree, I told her everything—every cruel word, every bitter stare from this morning. The rage on Aadhya’s face was instant.
“I swear to God,” Aadhya snapped, “I feel like smashing a coconut on your chithappa and chithi’s heads.”( uncle-aunt)
I giggled despite herself. “No yaar… after Amma-Appa passed, they were the only ones who took me in.”
Aadhya snorted. “Took you in? More like took out their frustration on you. That’s not care, that’s glorified abuse.”
I sighed quietly.
Aadhya, sensing the shift, suddenly clapped her hands. “Enough sadness. I have a surprise! Guess what? College is organizing a fest!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why do you sound like your crush is coming?”
Aadhya grinned, eyes gleaming. “Because he is.”
I blinked. “Wait—WHAT?”
“Yes!” Aadhya squealed. “The chief guests are the Shekhawat brothers.”
My eyes widened. “You mean... Reyansh Shekhawat? I’ve seen him once at a jewellery event... tall, loud, and annoyingly hot?”
Aadhya nodded furiously. “Yes, yes, him—but more importantly… the elder Shekhawat brother is coming too.”
My heart skipped. “What’s his name again?”
“Ishaan Shekhawat,” Aadhya whispered like it was a sacred secret. “The Business tycoon and… absolutely gorgeous.”
My fingers clenched my bag strap.
Ishaan.
I've never seen him. Never heard him speak. But even his name sounded like power wrapped in thunder.
I whispered softly, “Maybe we’ll get to see him at the event…”
“I’m manifesting it,” Aadhya declared. “And if we do—I’m flirting. I don’t care if he arrests me.”
We laughed. For a moment, everything felt okay again.
Meanwhile – Shekhawat Mansion,
Ishaan Shekhawat never needed an alarm.
He had trained himself to rise at 5:00 a.m., hit the gym, complete two hours of weights, and start his day before the world even opened their eyes. His staff moved around him with precision—knowing better than to interrupt his routine.
By 9:45 a.m., he was dressed in a black tailored suit, cufflinks gleaming, not a single strand of hair out of place. He walked down the grand staircase of the Shekhawat mansion like it belonged to him—which, technically, it did.
The breakfast table was noisy, as always.
Bhai, marry someone. Seriously,” said Reyansh, chewing toast like it was his last meal. “You’re 28. That’s ancient in desi family years.”
Amar chimed in. “Your Maa already spoke to the pundit. The stars are aligning.”
I didn’t look up from my tablet. “So are planets. What’s your point?”
Shobha grinned. “You need someone to love you, Ishaan.”
I finally glanced up, expression blank. “I don’t believe in love.”
Reyansh dramatically gasped. “He said it. The L-word slayer has spoken.”
Ignoring the banter, I sipped my coffee and stood up.
“I’m opening a new export branch in Chennai,” I said, cool and direct. “We leave tomorrow morning.”
Reyansh blinked. “We?”
“You and Advay are coming with me.”
Reyansh groaned. “Ugh. South India humidity. But… south Indian girls…” He smirked. “Fine. I’m in.”
I didn’t react.
But somewhere deep in my chest… something stirred.
A strange feeling.
Like the calm before a very unexpected storm.
______________________________________________
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