85
The living room was cluttered with half-open suitcases. Vihaan was on the floor, surrounded by folded shirts, cables, a neck pillow, and at least four different types of chargers. He was kneeling over one of the bags, pressing down with both hands to zip it shut, a stubborn frown on his face.
"Aai!" he called out dramatically. "There's no space!"
From the hallway, Sunita appeared carrying another small pile of clothes — mostly sweaters. "Arre, you can figure it out," she said, shooing him aside to make space on the bed. "Take this one also. New jacket, from your baba."
Vihaan groaned. "Aai, please! I'm not going to Antarctica. New York is cold, yes, but not that cold."
Sunita placed the jacket neatly on the bed anyway. "You'll thank me later," she said matter-of-factly, and began refolding his jeans properly because "you don't know how to fold clothes properly even now, my god."
Vihaan threw his head back in mock defeat. "I'll never win against you, will I?"
"No," she said firmly, then smiled. "Now go get your shoes, I'll check this one."
As Vihaan muttered and walked off toward his room, the bell rang.
Sunita wiped her hands on her kurta and walked over to open the door. "Arey, Vaani!" she said, face brightening instantly. "Hi, beta!"
"Hi, Aai," Vaani said, stepping in with a small smile. She looked fresh — hair tied back, jeans and a loose shirt, a bag slung over her shoulder. The heat outside had painted her cheeks pink.
Before Sunita could even call out, Vihaan appeared again from the hallway, eyes lighting up. "Yooo!" he said, grinning. "Tai! Look at me, all packed and ready!"
Vaani laughed, holding up her hands. "Relax, Vihaan. You look like you're going to climb Everest, not Columbia."
"Same thing!" he said, striking a mock heroic pose that made her shake her head.
Sunita chuckled softly. "Kai zala, Vaani?" she asked, ushering her inside. (What happened?)
"Nothing, Aai," Vaani said, slipping off her shoes. "Just came to see how Vihaan's last-minute packing was going."
Sunita rolled her eyes. "He's doing his thing. Come, come outside for a bit — let him handle his own mess."
Vihaan made a face. "Very funny."
Vaani giggled as Sunita gently tugged her toward the veranda. The late-afternoon light filtered through the thin curtains, bathing the room in soft gold. They sat down together on the swing, the familiar creak of its chains filling the quiet.
The air smelled faintly of jasmine and the tea Sunita had just brewed.
"The flight is in two days," Sunita said after a pause, her tone quieter now. She adjusted her pallu absent-mindedly, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "Beta, will he be fine?"
Vaani smiled softly. "Haan, Aai. He'll be okay. He's nervous but also excited — it's Vihaan, he'll adjust."
Sunita nodded slowly, but her eyes glistened. "You know," she began, voice catching slightly, "I had the same feeling when you left. When you went to the UK all alone."
Vaani's hand stilled on her lap. "Aai..."
Sunita's eyes watered as she continued. "We couldn't even come with you, baba and I. We felt so bad, beta. You had to manage everything — housing, your classes, cooking. All on your own. You were just eighteen. It felt so bad, Vaani."
Vaani reached over and held her hand, squeezing it gently. "It's okay, Aai," she said softly.
Sunita shook her head, eyes still wet. "And now Vihaan. Again the same story."
Vaani leaned in, resting her head lightly against her mother's shoulder. "We are going with Vihaan, Aai. You don't need to worry."
Sunita smiled weakly, brushing Vaani's hair affectionately. "I'm not worried, Vaani. I know you and Dhruv will manage it..."
Vaani lifted her head slightly, frowning. "Then what is it, Aai?"
Sunita looked down at her hands, silent for a long moment. Then she sighed. "Beta, being the older child, I know you've missed out on so much."
Vaani blinked, confused. "Aai..."
"There was so much we should have given you," Sunita continued, her voice trembling a little. "But we didn't. For whatever reason — money, time, responsibility. We were so caught up in managing life that we forgot you were still growing. I feel so bad, so horrible about it sometimes."
Vaani shook her head quickly. "Aai, what are you saying? You and baba gave me everything. Everything you could."
Sunita smiled sadly. "But it wasn't enough."
"It was," Vaani insisted gently. "Now leave it. Think of the future — Vedant's going to the UK, Vihaan to the US, and I'm happily married. What's the problem?"
Sunita's eyes softened. "It's not about that, beta. I just..." She exhaled shakily. "I feel like you were deprived of so much, Vaani. Things we couldn't give you — the freedom, the choices, the chances. I feel really bad."
Vaani looked at her mother for a moment — the woman who had held the whole family together for decades, who had quietly sacrificed everything, whose guilt now showed through the cracks of her composure.
"Aai," she said gently, "I'm not complaining, am I? You and baba did the best you could. And look — I studied at really good places, I travelled, I worked hard. What more could I have wanted?"
Sunita hesitated, then asked quietly, "You wanted to go to the US, didn't you?"
For a second, Vaani didn't answer. Her eyes drifted toward the open window, where the faint sound of Vihaan's suitcase wheels scraping the floor came from inside.
Finally, she nodded slightly. "I know I wanted to," she said softly. "But Aai, listen... I went to Oxford instead. And look now, Aai — a piece of my heart lies there. Every decision has a consequence, or a new story. You relax, Aai. Don't think you stole my chances or anything. I'm happy. Really."
Sunita's eyes brimmed again, but this time with pride. She reached out and cupped Vaani's face, thumb brushing away a stray tear Vaani hadn't even realized had fallen. "I'm so lucky to have you," she whispered.
Vaani smiled — that soft, tired, full smile. "I'm lucky to have you, Aai."
And then they just sat there for a while, hand in hand, the swing rocking gently, the afternoon light turning amber. The world outside moved, but time between them stood still — mother and daughter, bound by memory and forgiveness.
Unbeknownst to them, a few feet away — just by the doorway — Dhruv had entered quietly. He had been planning to visit them, to check in before heading home, picking Vaani on the way, but when he'd heard their voices, he'd stopped.
Now, he stood there, hidden partly by the doorframe, listening.
He watched as Sunita stroked her daughter's hair, as Vaani spoke in that calm, soothing way she always did — without complaint, without bitterness. Just understanding.
He listened to the way she deflected guilt with warmth, how she found beauty even in what she'd lost.
When Sunita said, "I'm so lucky to have you," something in Dhruv's chest tightened. He whispered, almost inaudibly, "Me too."
He stayed there a moment longer, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets.
For all his calmness, his ordered life, Dhruv had grown up very differently — in a house where everything came easily but rarely meant anything.
The more he watched Vaani with her mother, the more he realized how much depth she carried — how her gentleness wasn't weakness, but quiet strength forged from years of understanding, of adapting, of loving without expecting.
He smiled faintly to himself, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Unreal," he muttered under his breath. "She's unreal."
From inside, Sunita got up, saying, "I'll make tea. You sit."
Vaani nodded, stretching slightly. "Okay, Aai."
As Sunita disappeared toward the kitchen, Dhruv straightened up. He stepped back, making sure his footsteps were loud enough this time — like he'd just arrived.
When he entered, Vaani looked up, surprised but smiling. "Dhruv!"
"Hey," he said casually, slipping off his watch and setting it on the table. "Thought I'd drop by."
Sunita called from the kitchen, "Arre Dhruv, I'll make tea!"
Dhruv smiled, glancing toward Vaani. "Perfect timing then."
Vaani just shook her head, that little knowing smile playing on her lips — unaware that he had already been there for a while, quietly admiring her all over again.
~·~
The late-afternoon light slipped into the living room through the thin lace curtains, laying golden streaks on the marble floor.
The ceiling fan hummed lazily above them, cutting through the heavy Dubai heat.
Dhruv and Vaani were sitting side by side on the old beige couch, cups of tea cooling between them.
The faint noise of Vihaan's suitcase scraping against the tiles came from the bedroom down the hall.
Dhruv looked around, taking in the small but familiar chaos of departure—the half-open drawers, the shopping bags that had migrated to the sofa, the faint smell of ironed clothes. He took a sip of tea and said, "So... how's Vihaan handling all this?"
Vaani smiled faintly, resting her elbow on the couch arm. "You can ask him yourself," she said, tilting her head toward the hallway.
Dhruv chuckled. "Fair point."
As if on cue, footsteps echoed from the bedroom and Vihaan appeared, his hair sticking up, holding an open suitcase in one hand and a tangle of cords in the other. "Jiju! Hi!" he said, bright-eyed. "I'm almost ready!"
Dhruv looked past him into the room and raised an eyebrow. "Almost ready, huh? Looks like a hurricane hit in there."
Vihaan laughed sheepishly. "Organized chaos! I know where everything is."
Dhruv smiled, leaning back. "Good. But you look tired, Vihaan. Get some rest tonight—the flight to New York is thirteen hours. You'll need it."
Vihaan dropped into the armchair across from him. "Don't worry, Jiju. I'll be okay. I'm more excited than tired."
"That's what you think," Dhruv said with a dry chuckle. "Wait till hour five of the flight. Then even excitement needs a nap."
Before Vihaan could answer, another voice called from the hallway, "Who's talking about naps?" Vedant walked in, his hair still damp from a shower, holding his phone. "Oh, Jiju! Hi!"
"Hey, Vedant," Dhruv said, smiling. "So tell me, how are you going to handle Vihaan being gone now?"
Vedant dropped onto the couch beside Vihaan and shrugged. "I won't have to handle it for long, Jiju. I'm leaving soon too, remember?"
Dhruv nodded. "Yeah, you are. But then you won't have your brother or your sister at hand's reach anymore."
Vedant grinned. "That's true. The house is going to be too quiet now. Maybe Aai will finally stop yelling about our mess."
"Don't count on it," Vaani teased. "She'll find a reason to yell even if you're not here."
All three of them laughed, the easy sibling energy filling the room. Vihaan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "It'll be weird, though. I've never been away from everyone for this long."
Vaani's smile softened. "It'll be okay. You'll find your rhythm. You always do."
Just then Sunita appeared from the kitchen, her duppata draped neatly over one shoulder, carrying two steaming cups of chai. "Dhruv, beta," she said kindly, handing him one. "Here, I made fresh."
"Thank you, Aai," he said warmly, taking it.
Sunita set another cup down beside Vaani, glanced at the boys and added, "Don't make a mess, ha. And Vihaan, please finish your packing before evening."
"Yes, Aai," Vihaan said dutifully, though his grin gave him away.
Sunita gave them one last look and went back toward the kitchen.
Dhruv stood, smoothing his shirt. "I'll come too," he said to Vaani, nodding toward the door. She followed him out into the veranda, where the light was now turning amber. The faint call to prayer echoed from somewhere distant.
Sunita joined them again, wiping her hands on her apron. "Are you two ready to go?" she asked.
"Yep," Dhruv said simply.
"Yeah, I guess," Vaani added, adjusting her dupatta.
Dhruv looked at her. "Why I guess?"
Vaani gave a small, sheepish smile. "Dhruv, I've never been to the US before. It's... far."
Dhruv's mouth twitched in amusement. "Yeah, so? There's a first time for everything."
She sighed. "Yeah, but still..."
"Tension nako ghew (don't worry)," he said. "It'll be fine."
Sunita, standing beside them, chuckled softly. "You sound just like Vaani's baba when he says that," she said to Vaani. "So calm, like everything is always simple."
Dhruv smiled politely, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Comes in handy sometimes," he said.
They all stood for a moment in comfortable quiet, the golden light bouncing off the old framed photos on the wall. Then Dhruv turned to Sunita. "It'll be weird for you two now, Aai," he said thoughtfully. "Right? Vedant's going soon, Vihaan's leaving now, and Vaani already isn't here."
Sunita smiled faintly, though her eyes glistened. "Yeah, it will," she admitted. "But it's fine. We'll get used to it. That's what life is."
Vaani reached over and linked her arm with her mother's. "It'll be fine, Aai. I'm always here. I'll come visit every day."
Dhruv smirked. "Yeah, of course. Why don't you move here while you're at it?"
Vaani looked at him sideways. "I actually will. What will you do then?"
Dhruv pretended to think. "Nothing. I'll just come too."
Sunita chuckled, the sound soft and warm. "Please do, both of you. Keep coming. This house feels alive when you're here."
Vaani squeezed her mother's arm affectionately. "I think you and Baba should go for a holiday, Aai. You two have been so drained—work, kids, everything. You should go somewhere."
Sunita shook her head quickly. "Arre, no, no. Where will we go?"
Dhruv laughed lightly. "Ask my mom, Aai. She has a list of destinations ready all the time. You'll get too many ideas."
Sunita smiled, amused. "I'll keep that in mind, beta."
"Do," Vaani said teasingly. "You and Baba deserve a break. You've earned it."
From inside, Vihaan's voice called out, "Aai, where's my passport pouch?"
Sunita turned toward the door. "Oh, this boy," she said, half-laughing, half-sighing. "Always misplacing things. I kept it in the drawer!"
Dhruv and Vaani exchanged a glance that was equal parts fondness and amusement.
"Some things never change," Vaani said.
"Good thing," Dhruv murmured, finishing his chai. "Some things shouldn't."
They lingered another few minutes—chatting about the flight details, about Vihaan's luggage weight, about how many snacks Sunita had packed "just in case." The conversation shifted easily between small worries and laughter.
Finally, as the sky outside began to tint pink, Dhruv checked his watch. "We should go, Aai. Need to stop by the travel agent before they close."
Sunita nodded. "Okay, beta. Come for dinner tomorrow before the flight, ha? Baba will be home early."
"Done," Dhruv said, smiling.
Vaani hugged her mother once more. "See you tomorrow, Aai."
As they turned to leave, Sunita called after them, "Drive safe, ha!"
Dhruv raised a hand in a half-wave without looking back, the way he always did.
Outside, the car gleamed faintly under the dim streetlight. Dhruv opened the door for her, and Vaani slid in, glancing once toward the house. Through the window, she could see her mother standing there, still smiling.
"Your Aai's amazing," Dhruv said as he started the engine.
Vaani teased softly, her eyes still on the house. "I know. She's gone on me."
And as they pulled away, she thought about how every goodbye in this house still carried warmth instead of sadness—something Dhruv had quietly learned to love.
~·~
The morning sun streamed lazily through the half-open blinds of their bedroom, spilling soft gold across the neatly made bed and the open suitcases that sat on the rug.
The faint hum of the AC mixed with the rustle of clothes being folded.
Vaani sat cross-legged on the floor, a small pile of shirts beside her, and another of scarves.
She looked deep in concentration — the kind that only came when she was trying to fit far too much into far too little space.
Dhruv walked in, still buttoning the cuffs of his light blue shirt, a faint trace of amusement on his face. "We're going for two weeks, Vaani," he said, leaning on the doorframe, "not shifting continents."
Without looking up, she said, "Yes, Dhruv, I know."
He crossed his arms, surveying the room like a man standing before a battlefield. "Then why does it look like you've packed half of Dubai?"
She finally looked up, strands of hair sticking to her face. "Because," she said patiently, "it's not just my stuff. I've packed some of Vihaan's things too. He's still not done with his own packing."
Dhruv walked closer, hands in pockets, and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Of course he's not," he murmured.
Vaani laughed softly, folding a teeshirt and placing it in the suitcase. "Exactly. That's why I'm doing it for him."
"You spoil him," Dhruv said in that dry, teasing tone of his.
"Someone has to," she shot back.
He smirked, watching her for a few seconds — the way she arranged everything neatly, grouping things by size and color, tucking them with precision. Then he said casually, "You still didn't tell me which other city you want to go to."
She froze mid-fold. "What?"
Dhruv tilted his head. "I need to book," he said simply, as though it were obvious.
Her eyes widened. "Dhruv! It's going to be way too expensive now! We're already flying halfway across the world, paying for hotel, food, everything — and you're thinking of another city?"
He shrugged. "And?"
"And?" she repeated incredulously. "Dhruv!"
"Vaani," he replied with equal weight, like they were playing verbal ping-pong.
She stared at him, mouth half-open in disbelief. "We go to New York. That's it. That's enough. You said this trip is for Vihaan, remember?"
"It is," he said calmly, picking up a pair of sunglasses from the dresser and twirling them in his hand. "But when we went to the UK, we visited two cities. Oxford and Scotland."
"That was different!"
"How?" he asked, perfectly serious.
"Because—" she began, then paused. "Because... it just was."
He gave her that quiet, amused smile — the one that said he knew he'd won but wouldn't gloat about it. "We're doing the same thing this time. Two cities."
She sighed dramatically, flopping back on the bed. "I don't mind going anywhere, Dhruv," she said, staring at the ceiling. "You pick. I'll just follow."
He tilted his head, pretending to think. "Okay then. Scenic or city?"
She sat up, confused. "What do you mean?"
He gestured lightly with his hand. "Do you want something scenic — mountains, lakes, something quiet — or do you want a proper city with noise, people, restaurants, and chaos?"
She thought about it for a moment, then said softly, "Scenic."
He smiled, that small, satisfied one that didn't quite reach his eyes but always meant something. "Got it."
Before she could ask what "got it" meant, he stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his trousers. "I'll handle it."
"Handle what?" she asked quickly.
"You'll see." He gave her a faint grin, turned, and walked toward the door.
"Dhruv!" she called, half laughing. "Finish your packing at least!"
He paused at the doorway, looked over his shoulder, and said, "I finished."
She blinked, narrowing her eyes. "No way."
He raised an eyebrow. "You can check."
"I will," she said, crossing her arms, trying not to smile.
"Do," he said, smirking, and disappeared down the hallway.
She shook her head, chuckling under her breath.
"Unbelievable man," she muttered, then turned back to the open suitcase and started tucking away the last of the clothes.
She folded Vihaan's sweatshirts, rolled up Dhruv's extra shirts that he always claimed he didn't need but ended up wearing, and zipped the first suitcase shut with a victorious little click.
A few minutes later, she got up and wandered into their walk-in closet. True to his word, Dhruv's bag was perfectly packed — neat, minimal, almost military-like precision. A pair of jeans, crisp shirts and T-shirts, a jacket, his toiletries pouch. Nothing unnecessary. Not even an extra T-shirt.
She stood there for a second, arms crossed, shaking her head fondly. "Of course," she said under her breath. "Mr. Minimalist."
Just then, she heard him call from the kitchen, "Vaani! Coffee?"
"Yes, please!" she yelled back.
When she joined him a few minutes later, he was leaning against the counter, two mugs in front of him. He handed her one wordlessly, and she smiled, taking a sip.
"You know," she said, "you're scaring me a little."
"How so?" he asked, his voice calm, almost lazy.
"You're being all mysterious about where we're going. I'm not used to mysterious Dhruv."
He smirked faintly. "You'll live."
"Barely," she muttered, making him chuckle softly.
They stood there for a few moments in silence, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside their window. There was something about mornings like this — the calm before a big change, the quiet in the middle of movement.
Dhruv looked over at her, his expression softening slightly. "Are you excited?"
She smiled, eyes still on her mug. "A little. Nervous too."
"Good," he said simply. "Means it matters."
She looked at him then, catching his eyes for a moment longer than usual. There was something steady about Dhruv — something that anchored her no matter how far they went.
And as she finished her coffee, she thought that maybe, just maybe, going across the world with him and her brother didn't feel as scary anymore.
Later that morning, she zipped up the last suitcase, stretched her arms, and looked around the room. Three bags stood ready near the door, neat and organized. Her eyes landed on Dhruv's passport lying next to hers on the dresser. She smiled faintly, picking it up and placing it in her travel pouch.
"Done," she murmured to herself.
From the other room, Dhruv called, "Finally packed, Mrs. Minimalist?"
She rolled her eyes, calling back, "Yes, Mr. Organized."
"Good," he said, appearing at the door again. "Because I just booked something."
She frowned. "What something?"
He grinned slightly, that quiet, dangerous kind of grin that always meant he'd done something she'd only find out about later.
"Scenic," he said, and disappeared again.
Vaani stared at the doorway, half exasperated, half amused. "Unbelievable," she whispered, laughing to herself — and bent down to drag the suitcases toward the door, ready for whatever "scenic" meant when Dhruv said it.
~·~
The evening air was warm but easy, carrying that familiar scent of cardamom and frying onions as Dhruv pulled the car into Sunita and Ramesh's building. The house glowed from inside — golden lights spilling out through the lace curtains, laughter faintly audible even before they got to the door.
Vaani smiled as she looked at the front porch, the same one she'd run up and down a hundred times as a teenager. "It feels like home every time," she murmured, half to herself.
Dhruv glanced at her, a small, knowing smile on his face. "It is home."
She nodded, that soft, nostalgic warmth flickering in her chest. He parked, and they both got out, carrying a box of sweets Dhruv had picked up from their favorite place — kaju katli and gulab jamun, because Sunita always said those were her "stress sweets."
As they rang the bell, the door opened almost instantly — as though Sunita had been waiting right there. "Arey!" she exclaimed, smiling wide. "Vaani, Dhruv! Come, come, beta!"
Dhruv bent down a little in greeting. "Namaste, Aai," he said, respectful but with his usual quiet ease.
"Namaste, beta! Arre, you didn't need to bring anything!" Sunita said, already taking the sweet box from Vaani.
"It's from Dhruv," Vaani said quickly, grinning. "You know how he can't come empty-handed."
"Good habit!" Sunita said approvingly, ushering them in. "Ramesh! Look who's here!"
Ramesh appeared from the living room, still in his evening vest, adjusting his glasses. "Ah, Dhruv, Vaani! Come, come beta, sit."
The living room looked the same as always — neatly arranged cushions, framed family photos along the wall, the faint hum of the ceiling fan, and the smell of home-cooked dinner drifting from the kitchen.
And then, predictably, there came the sound of feet thundering down the hallway.
"Jiju!"
Vihaan burst into the room, grinning from ear to ear, hair messy, T-shirt wrinkled, eyes shining with excitement. He nearly crashed into Dhruv in his enthusiasm. "Jiju! Tai! You're here!"
Vaani laughed. "We are, calm down, you hurricane!"
"I can't calm down!" he said dramatically. "Tomorrow I'll be on a plane to New York! New York!"
Ramesh smiled slightly. "We know, Vihaan. You've only said it fifty times since breakfast."
"Fifty-two," Vihaan corrected him instantly. "I counted."
Sunita chuckled from the kitchen doorway. "He's been running around the house all day. I think he's more ready for the flight than the pilot."
Vihaan puffed out his chest. "Obviously! Everything's done. Bags are packed, checklist complete, travel folder ready. I'm a pro."
Ramesh raised his eyebrows. "Pro? Yesterday you forgot your passport in the cupboard, beta."
Vihaan groaned, flopping dramatically onto the sofa. "Aai told you, didn't she? That was one time!"
"Still one time too many," Dhruv said calmly, sitting down across from him. "That's why I told you — keep everything in one place. Did you?"
"Yes!" Vihaan said proudly. "My folder's got my passport, I-20, flight tickets, everything. I even made copies."
Dhruv nodded, approvingly. "Good. That's what I like to hear."
Vaani smiled, watching them — Dhruv's composed, almost fatherly tone, and Vihaan's eagerness. It was such a strange, comforting contrast.
Sunita appeared again, carrying glasses of juice. "Here, have this first. Dinner will take five more minutes. Ramesh, go sit at the table; I'll call Vedant."
"Vedant's home?" Vaani asked, surprised.
"Haan," Sunita said warmly. "He's upstairs — wait, I'll call him."
Before she could, a voice came from the staircase. "Already here, Aai."
Vedant came down, wearing a casual shirt, looking composed as ever. "Jiju, Tai," he greeted, with that slightly shy smile.
"Vedant!" Vaani said, hugging him. "Good you came. We were just talking about how your brother's too excited for his own good."
"Too excited? He's been dancing in his room," Vedant said, deadpan.
Vihaan groaned. "Don't expose me, man!"
Everyone laughed, the sound filling the house like something alive.
They all moved toward the dining table — the big round one that Sunita always decorated neatly for dinners like this. Tonight it had the special tablecloth, and the smell of ghee and spices filled the air.
"Sit, sit," Sunita said, as she placed bowls of paneer curry, dal, jeera rice, and fried papad. "Special dinner for my traveler!"
"Aai, you didn't have to," Vihaan said, though he was already serving himself rice.
"Of course I did!" she said fondly. "It's your last dinner at home for a while. You eat well."
"Last dinner," Vaani echoed softly, looking at her brother.
Vihaan grinned, "Don't make it sound so emotional, Tai. I'll video call from there every day!"
"You better," Vaani said firmly, pointing her spoon at him.
Ramesh chuckled. "Don't worry, he will. We'll make sure of it."
They ate together, the room filled with warmth and laughter — Vihaan talking a mile a minute about all the places he wanted to visit in New York, how he'd already joined an online group for incoming students, how he planned to try every coffee shop near campus.
Vaani listened, sometimes smiling, sometimes gently reminding him, "Vihaan, don't go everywhere in the first week. Take time to settle."
Dhruv said little, as usual, but every now and then he'd ask something practical — "You've checked baggage limits?" or "Did you download the university app?" — and Vihaan would answer eagerly, clearly proud of how prepared he was.
At one point, Sunita leaned toward Dhruv. "Beta, thank you again for doing this — taking him there. You don't know what a relief it is for us."
Dhruv shook his head lightly. "Aai, you don't need to thank me. He's family. It'll be good — we'll get him settled, make sure he's comfortable."
Ramesh nodded. "You're a good man, Dhruv."
Dhruv smiled faintly, a little awkward with praise. "Just doing what I can."
After dinner, as the plates were cleared, Sunita brought out the sweets Dhruv had brought. "Now we eat properly sweet. Celebration sweet!" she said cheerfully.
Vihaan groaned, "Aai, I've already eaten too much!"
"So what? Eat more," Sunita said, breaking a gulab jamun and putting it on his plate.
Everyone laughed again.
The conversation drifted easily after that — from Vihaan's travel plans to Ramesh's quiet worries, to Vaani teasing Dhruv about how he'd manage Vihaan's hyper energy on a 13-hour flight.
"Oh, I'm sleeping," Dhruv said dryly, sipping his water.
"What?" Vihaan said, mock-shocked. "No, Jiju, you can't! I'll need company!"
"You'll have movies," Dhruv replied without missing a beat.
Vaani laughed. "He's serious, Vihaan. You'll be lucky if he talks to you before landing."
"Hey!" Dhruv said, pretending to be offended. "I'll talk."
"To who?" she teased.
He smirked. "To whoever's quieter."
"Then you'll be talking to yourself," she said, and everyone burst into laughter again.
When the laughter faded, a soft quiet filled the room — the kind that only happens near the end of good evenings. Sunita looked around at all of them, her eyes misty. "Tomorrow everything will change a little," she said softly.
Vaani reached over and took her mother's hand. "Just a little, Aai. Not too much. We'll all be here — just in different time zones."
Sunita smiled, squeezing her hand. "You always say the right thing, beta."
"Because she's you," Ramesh said quietly.
For a moment, the room fell into an easy silence — warm, content, threaded with love.
Then Vihaan broke it, of course. "Okay! Enough emotions!" he said, standing. "We need to check-in online! And also, I have to show Jiju the flight tracker app — it's so cool!"
Dhruv chuckled softly, standing too. "All right, show me."
Sunita shook her head, smiling. "He'll make you download fifty apps tonight, Dhruv."
"I believe that," Dhruv said dryly, following Vihaan toward the living room.
As Vaani helped Sunita with the dishes, she glanced at them — Dhruv sitting on the couch, Vihaan talking animatedly beside him, waving his phone in the air, Dhruv nodding patiently, that faint smile on his lips.
And she thought, Maybe this is what family looks like — a little chaos, a little calm, and everything that matters tucked somewhere in between.
When it was finally time to leave, Sunita hugged both Dhruv and Vaani tightly. "Message us when you start leaving for the airport, we'll also leave then."
"We will," Vaani promised.
As they walked to the car, Vihaan shouted from the door, "Don't be late tomorrow, Jiju!"
Dhruv raised a hand, smirking. "I never am."
"Yeah, right!" Vihaan called back, laughing.
Vaani shook her head fondly as they got into the car. "He's going to make the plane take off with his energy alone."
Dhruv smiled slightly as he started the car. "Good. Then I won't need to stay awake."
She laughed, leaning her head against the seat, her heart light despite the bittersweet air of goodbye.
Tomorrow, everything would change a little — but tonight, it felt just right.
~·~
The afternoon sun hung warm and hazy over Dubai as they pulled into the airport drop-off zone. The digital clock on the dashboard blinked 3:02 PM — still three hours till take-off, but Dhruv had insisted they leave early. He didn't like rushing, especially for international flights.
Vaani exhaled slowly as she stepped out of the car.
The terminal doors gleamed ahead, glass catching the late sunlight.
Behind them came another car, and she turned to see her parents, Ramesh and Sunita, stepping out along with Jaya and Mahesh, and Vedant, holding Vihaan's extra jacket.
Everyone looked slightly anxious, as families always do before big goodbyes.
"Come, let's go," Dhruv said calmly, pulling the trolley closer. He took Vihaan and Vaani's passports and tickets from her hand, sliding them neatly into the travel folder. Vihaan was bouncing slightly on his heels, excitement and nerves mixing together.
"This is it," Vihaan said, his voice half thrilled, half disbelieving. "Oh my god, I'm actually leaving."
"You say that like you're never coming back," Vaani teased lightly, closing the car door.
"I mean—it's Columbia, Tai," he said, grin wide. "It feels unreal!"
Dhruv adjusted his watch and nodded toward the terminal doors. "Let's go in. Check-in first, then you can be as unreal as you want."
Vaani rolled her eyes at his tone, but she smiled. "So bossy, Mr. Deshmukh."
He looked at her with that faint smirk. "Someone has to keep this group on schedule."
They walked together through the sliding glass doors, the hum of the airport instantly swallowing them — rolling suitcases, the echo of announcements, children chattering, the scent of coffee and sanitizer blending in the air.
Behind them, their family followed, watching Dhruv handle things with quiet precision.
He led them straight to the airline counter, pulling out passports before anyone even asked. The check-in staff smiled as Dhruv placed all three passports neatly in front of her. "Three passengers — to New York, JFK," he said, his tone crisp and professional.
The attendant nodded, typing quickly. "Baggage?"
"Four large, two cabin," Dhruv replied, motioning for Vihaan to place the suitcases on the belt.
Vihaan grunted dramatically. "Why are these bags so heavy?"
"Because half of that is your snacks, beta," Sunita called from behind, and everyone laughed softly.
The staff printed the boarding passes, sliding them across. "All set, sir. Gate number and boarding time are printed here. Have a good flight."
"Thank you," Dhruv said, taking them. He double-checked everything, then handed one to Vaani, one to Vihaan. "Keep them in your folders."
"Yes, sir," Vaani mocked playfully, giving a mock salute.
He gave her a look — that one where his lips twitched slightly but didn't quite turn into a smile. "Funny."
"Thank you," she said sweetly.
They moved aside, letting others check in, and the family regrouped near the big digital board that showed flight departures. The 6:00 PM Emirates flight to New York was right there — "ON TIME" blinking reassuringly next to it.
"Everything done?" Jaya asked, adjusting her bag.
"Yes," Dhruv said. "Just immigration now."
"Good, good," Mahesh said approvingly. "At least you won't rush like we did during our first trip."
Sunita smiled faintly. "That was chaos."
Ramesh chuckled. "We forgot the carry-on at home."
"Oh, I remember that!" Vaani said, laughing. "Aai made us turn the car around twenty minutes before check-in closed."
Sunita made a face. "Don't remind me."
As they spoke, Vihaan looked around the airport — at the crowds, the lines, the huge glass windows showing planes slowly taxiing outside. His excitement dulled for a second, replaced by something heavier, more real. His hands fidgeted slightly with the strap of his backpack.
Dhruv noticed. He placed a steady hand on his shoulder. "You'll be fine," he said quietly.
Vihaan looked up, his throat tight. "Yeah."
And then they began the slow walk toward the immigration gates — that quiet, bittersweet stretch where travelers part from the people who aren't traveling. The closer they got, the quieter everyone became.
When they reached the cordoned area, Vihaan turned, his grin flickering uncertainly. He looked at his parents — at Sunita first, then Ramesh. And just like that, his face crumpled a little.
"Aai," he said softly.
Sunita couldn't help it. She pulled him into a hug immediately, her eyes wet. "Arre beta," she murmured, trying to smile through it. "Don't cry. This is a happy thing! You're going to study at one of the best places in the world."
Vihaan hugged her tighter. "I know, Aai... but still."
Ramesh stepped forward, resting a hand on his son's shoulder once Sunita let go. "Be good, Vihaan. Be safe. And remember, call us once you land, okay?"
"I will, Baba," Vihaan said, nodding.
Sunita brushed at his cheeks gently. "Have fun too, hmm? Don't just study all day. Make friends, eat well, explore. But study hard also."
"I will," he said again, voice small but firm.
Jaya stepped in then, smiling softly. "You'll do amazing, Vihaan. Everything will be fine — don't worry."
Mahesh added, "New York's a good place. You'll like it there. Just keep your head down and focus."
"Thanks," Vihaan said, smiling weakly, his eyes darting between everyone.
Vaani, standing slightly to the side, saw how Sunita's hands still lingered near Vihaan's arm, unwilling to let go completely. She stepped forward, her tone light but soothing. "Aai, don't worry so much. He'll be back for winter break. You've done this before with me, remember? You're a pro now."
Sunita laughed through her tears. "Yes, yes, I know. I'm better prepared this time — I saw you go off to the UK multiple times. Still..."
Jaya smiled and placed a hand on her sister's arm. "Everything will be fine, Sunita. He'll do so well."
Ramesh nodded, and for a few seconds, everyone just stood there — this tiny circle of family, love, and worry tucked amid the endless noise of the airport.
Then Ramesh turned to Dhruv and Vaani. "You both take care too, okay? Message once you land. And thank you again, Dhruv, for taking him. It means a lot."
Dhruv inclined his head slightly, his voice steady. "Of course, Baba. Don't worry. We'll take care of him."
Sunita smiled faintly, her eyes still glistening. "I know you will."
Just then, Vedant, who had been quiet the whole time, stepped forward. His voice wavered a little. "Bye, Dada," he said, his lower lip trembling. "See you."
Vihaan looked at him and groaned softly. "Oh no, don't get all emotional now. That's my job."
Vedant sniffed and laughed, wiping at his eyes. "You're such an idiot."
"You love me though," Vihaan said, grinning, his own eyes shiny.
Everyone chuckled, even through the tears.
Then Vihaan said, "Good luck for LSE, bro. You'll kill it there, okay? And call me when you go — every day, all right?"
Vedant nodded quickly. "I will."
Vaani crossed her arms, mock-serious. "Yes, Vedant, call your brother every day. Don't make me text you to remind you."
"I will, Tai," he said, chuckling softly.
They all stood there one last time — the family gathered right before the glass gates where the travelers disappear into the sea of security checks and duty-free lights.
Sunita hugged Vaani tight, whispering, "Take care of yourself too, beta. And of Dhruv. And Vihaan."
"I will, Aai," Vaani said softly, "I'll see you in 2 weeks."
Ramesh hugged Dhruv next, firm and proud. "Safe journey, beta."
Dhruv nodded. "Thank you, Baba."
And then, one by one, they said their final goodbyes. Jaya hugged Vaani, Mahesh clapped Dhruv on the shoulder, Vedant waved till his hand hurt.
Vihaan was the last to pull away from his parents, his voice small but certain as he said, "Bye, Aai, Baba. Love you."
"Love you too, beta," Sunita said, smiling even as tears ran down her cheeks.
Dhruv touched her arm lightly, reassuringly, before taking Vihaan's hand luggage and nodding toward Vaani. "Let's go."
The three of them — Dhruv, Vaani, and Vihaan — turned and started walking toward the immigration gate. They turned back halfway to wave, and the family waved back — smiling, crying, all at once.
Sunita kept waving long after they'd gone through the doors and out of sight, her heart both heavy and full.
Beside her, Ramesh exhaled quietly. "He'll be okay."
"I know," Sunita said softly. "But still... they all grow up too fast."
And inside, past the glass barriers, Dhruv glanced at Vaani — her hand brushing against Vihaan's shoulder as she guided him through the crowd — and he smiled to himself.
They were on their way now.
A new journey.
A new chapter.
And somewhere, amid all the motion of planes and people, the quiet promise of beginnings hung steady in the air.
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