CHAPTER 41! BIRTHDAY GIRL
The bedroom door flew open with a sudden bang.
"Aadhira! Uth ja. Kitna soyegi?"
Aadhira groaned, burying herself deeper into the cocoon of her blanket. "Maa... five minutes."
"Five minutes since when? I've called you three times already."
A helpless laugh escaped Aadhira before she could suppress it. Her mother walked over, stripping the blanket away with one practiced, ruthless pull, and bent down to press a quick kiss against her forehead.
"Happy birthday, meri ladoo."
Aadhira smiled sleepily, wrapping her arms securely around her mother's waist. "Thank you, Mama."
"Eighteen," her mother murmured, gently smoothing the stray hair away from Aadhira's face. "Kal tak school ki uniform pehen ke ghoom rahi thi."
"Please don't start crying this early."
"I'm not crying."
"You definitely are."
"I'll give you something to cry about."
From the doorway, her father watched them, a folded newspaper tucked neatly under his arm.
"So," he announced, "madam is officially an adult. Congratulations."
Aadhira looked over, grinning. "Thank you."
"From today, should I ask your permission before sitting on my own sofa?"
"Depends."
"On?"
"My mood papa."
Her father rolled his eyes.
"Subah-subah shuru ho gayi ye ladki."
Before he could continue, a low voice cut through from behind him.
"Papa jara side dena."
Shourya nudged their father aside with a casual shoulder and walked into the room, balancing two gift boxes in his hands.
He stared at Aadhira for a long moment, slowly shaking his head.
"Aaj bhi uth gayi?"
Aadhira's brow furrowed.
"What does that even mean?"
"Laga tha birthday pe thoda chain ki neend soyegi... par nahi."
She instantly reached for the nearest pillow. Shourya was already moving.
The pillow had barely left her fingers before he caught it cleanly out of the air.
"Slow."
"Oh, shut up."
She lunged anyway.
Shourya caught her in a loose, effortless headlock, laughing as she struggled.
"Papa! Dekho na!" Aadhira yelped.
"Papa!"
Her father merely looked up from his newspaper. "Mujhe mat ghaseeto tum dono ke beech. Jiska jo tootega khud dekh lena."
Their mother shook her head, walking back toward the kitchen. After a few more seconds of futile wrestling, Shourya finally let her go.
Aadhira straightened her chaotic hair, tossing him a sharp glare.
"I hate you."
"I know." He tossed the larger box onto her lap.
"Chal khol."
Inside rested the exact smartwatch she had been dropping hints about for months.
Her eyes widened.
"You actually bought it?"
"Tu February se links bhej rahi hai. Paka diya tha."
She jumped up, throwing her arms around him. "Thank you!"
"Bas, bas." Shourya gently pushed her back, holding out the second, much smaller velvet box. "Ye bhi."
Aadhira opened it with far more care. A simple, elegant silver bracelet rested against the dark fabric.
No extra sparkle, just clean lines.
She turned the bracelet once, her smile softening completely. "Thank you."
"Achha hai?" Shourya asked.
She nodded, extending her wrist.
"Pehna de."
He fastened the clasp, giving it a brief tug to ensure it was secure. "Perfect."
Aadhira turned her wrist, watching the silver catch the bright morning light.
Their father raised his phone, breaking the silence. "Enough. Photo."
"Mera baal dekhr hai?" Aadhira protested.
"I've seen worse."
"Maa!"
Shourya stepped in without asking, hooking a heavy arm around her shoulders and squeezing tight.
She tried to shove him off, but he refused to budge. The camera flashed, capturing the chaos. None of them asked to see how the picture turned out.
The dining room was a familiar symphony of morning noise. The television in the corner murmured the early news, while the sharp hiss of the pressure cooker echoed from the kitchen.
The rich, comforting scent of fresh ghee and hot aloo parathas filled the house.
Right in the middle of the table sat a slightly lopsided chocolate cake.
The icing was uneven, and one side had structurally collapsed a little-a definitive hallmark of Padmini's solo baking endeavors.
Aadhira paused beside the table, studying the frosting. "Maa..."
"Hm?"
"You wrote Happy Birthday without one 'd'."
Her mother looked up from the hot frying pan, entirely unbothered. "So?"
"So it says 'Happy Birthay'."
Padmini shrugged, turning a paratha over. "Taste the cake. Spelling doesn't matter."
Shourya snorted loudly into his glass of milk. "Fashion designer se pehle English teacher ban gayi."
"I'm just saying."
"And I'm just saying you'll eat whatever Maa makes."
Aadhira stuck her tongue out at him before sliding into her seat. Her father folded his newspaper, eyeing them over the rim of his glasses. "Done fighting?"
"For now."
"Good. Eat before Round Two starts."
Padmini arrived at the table, dropping a fresh, steaming paratha straight off the tawa onto Aadhira's plate.
Before Aadhira could even utter a protest, a generous spoonful of homemade butter was dolloped right on top.
"Maa..."
"Kha."
"I already have one."
"So?"
"I can't finish all this."
"You can."
Without looking up from his phone, Shourya reached across the table and casually tore off a massive piece of her paratha.
"Oi!" Aadhira snapped.
"Weight bhi kam kar le moti," Shourya muttered, popping the bite into his mouth.
She glared at him. "Thief."
Their father hid a smile behind his teacup as Padmini shook her head.
"21 saal ka ho gaya hai aur abhi bhi behen ki plate se chori karni hai. Kab akal aayegi tujhe?"
"Dusre ki plate ka alag hi swaad hota hai, Maa."
"It does not."
"It absolutely does."
Aadhira kicked him sharply under the table. "Oye."
"You started it."
"I finished it too." She rolled her eyes, turning to her mother.
"Mummy dekho Pareshan kar raha ye."
"Kha le, Aadhira. Thanda ho raha hai," Padmini said, ignoring the dispute entirely.
Outside, the neighborhood was waking up-a vegetable vendor called out his morning prices from the lane, and a distant pressure horn blared.
Life was carrying on exactly as it always did.
Padmini cleared the empty plates, looking over at Aadhira.
"What time will you be back tonight?"
"Dinner first," Aadhira replied. "Then maybe Riya wants to cut another cake."
"Maa, we'll be back before 8," Shourya interjected smoothly before Aadhira could even finish her sentence.
She frowned at him. "We?"
"I'm picking you up."
"I can come home myself."
"I know."
"Then why are you coming?"
"Because I don't trust your sense of direction after 6 at evening.
You once got lost inside D-Mart."
"It was a very confusing D-Mart! It had a lot of aisles!"
"Ek hi gate tha uska," Shourya said flatly.
Their father laughed so hard a bit of tea spilled near his saucer. "He's right."
Aadhira threw her hands up. "You too?"
"I'm always on the winning team."
Aadhira looked desperately at her mother. "Maa?"
Padmini didn't even look up from wiping the counter. "Finish your breakfast."
"Nobody supports me in this house."
Shourya reached over, quietly sliding the remaining half of his own paratha onto her plate.
She stared at the offering.
"I thought you stole my food."
"Tere jesa todhi hu," Shourya said, tapping his phone.
Aadhira tried to keep a straight face, but the smile broke through anyway.
By the time Aadhira walked through the university gates, the campus was already operating at its usual frantic velocity.
Students sprinted between lecture halls, a heated argument over loose change was breaking out at the photocopy kiosk, and the heavy scent of fried samosas drifted from the main canteen.
Her phone buzzed violently in her palm.
Riya: Where are you?
Before her thumbs could hit the screen-
"AADHIRAAA!"
Aadhira barely had time to brace herself before Riya collided with her in a full-speed embrace.
The sheer momentum nearly sent them both sprawling onto the gravel.
"Oh my God!" Aadhira gasped, recovering her balance. "You almost killed me."
"Worth it."
Samiksha caught up a second later, breathless and laughing.
"Happy birthday!"
The three of them tangled into a tight hug, drawing a few amused glances from a passing batch of seniors.
"Congratulations," Riya announced with deep solemnity as they broke apart.
"For what?"
"For surviving eighteen years in the same house as Shourya Bhai."
Aadhira groaned loudly. "He started at seven this morning. Literally called me old milk."
Riya burst into loud, unapologetic laughter.
"I'll tell him you laughed," Aadhira warned.
"I'll deny everything."
The girls fell into step, steering toward the academic block.
"So," Samiksha asked, adjusting her bag strap, "what's the actual plan tonight?"
"Dinner."
"Boring."
"A rooftop restaurant."
"Still boring."
"With my family."
"Worse."
Aadhira nudged her hard.
"Tum log na... impossible ho."
"Aadhira."
The voice was familiar, cutting through the ambient campus chatter.
She stopped. Samarth was standing a few feet away near the corridor pillar, one hand casually tucked into his jeans pocket. Resting in his other hand was a single, deep red rose.
He smiled, stepping forward.
"Happy birthday love."
Aadhira's face softened instantly.
"You remembered."
"Pagal hai kya? Bhoolta main?" He held out the rose.
She took it, the green stem cool against her palm. "Thank you."
Samarth leaned in, pulling her into a brief, warm hug before stepping back. His eyes dropped to her wrist, catching the glint of metal. "New?"
She raised her arm slightly.
"My brother gave it to me."
"Accha choice hai uska."
"Don't tell him that. Bill bhej dega."
Behind Samarth, Rohan cleared his throat with dramatic, earth-shattering force. "Bhai..."
Everyone turned.
Rohan stared at Samarth, letting out a long, disappointed sigh. "...bas phool?"
Samarth rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What now, Rohan?"
"Yaar kam se kam chocolate?" Rohan asked.
"Ya teddy," Riya chimed in, grinning.
"Ya ring," Samiksha added.