7
The scent of saffron, caramelized onions, and slow-cooked mutton biryani filled every corner of the house.
It had only taken a single, casual command from Adhira's mother for Ayan to rally his friends. By eight o'clock on Saturday night, the dining table was packed with broad-shouldered engineering students, their loud laughter bouncing off the walls.
From her strategic position at the head of the table, Adhira's mother played the gracious, bustling host. She seamlessly refilled water glasses and scooped generous portions of biryani onto banana leaves and plates.
But beneath the warm, maternal smile, her sharp eyes were dialed into a singular frequency.
She was officially operating under the subtle, highly critical Mother-in-Law microscope.
And the sole subject of her study was sitting exactly opposite her daughter.
Shreyash was a stark contrast to the rest of Ayan's rowdy friends.
While Rahul and the others inhaled their food, their fingers stained yellow with turmeric as they spoke over one another with their mouths half full, Shreyash sat with quiet composure.
His posture was perfectly straight. He ate neatly with his right hand, his long fingers carefully mixing a small amount of cucumber raita into his rice, and he made sure to wait until he had completely swallowed before speaking.
"So, Shreyash, Ayan tells me you're the top ranker in your batch," her mother said smoothly, sliding a fresh bowl of salad near him.
Shreyash immediately stopped eating and looked up, the tips of his ears turning a familiar, dusty pink. He offered a polite, deeply humble smile. "Ayan exaggerates, Aunty. We all study together. I just... test well, I suppose."
"He's lying, Ma," Adhira chimed in from across the table, waving her own turmeric-stained hand dismissively. "He literally re-wrote half my C++ assignment from memory the other day. He's a genius."
At the sound of Adhira's voice praising him in front of a crowded table, Shreyash's flush deepened. He ducked his head, focusing intensely on the biryani in front of him, absolutely terrified to meet her eyes.
Her mother watched the exchange without missing a single beat. Humble. Respectful. Doesn't boast. Check, check, and check.
But manners were only half the test. She needed to see what was really hiding beneath that fiercely shy exterior.
She got her answer ten minutes later.
Ayan was halfway through a ridiculous, animated story about a professor tripping over a projector cord.
The entire table was in stitches. Adhira, who was sitting across from Shreyash, let out a sudden, uninhibited peal of laughter.
She threw her head back, her dark hair falling over her shoulder, her eyes crinkling with genuine, unfiltered joy.
While the rest of the boys were looking at Ayan, Shreyash's mask slipped.
Just for a fleeting, unguarded second, his eyes darted away from Ayan and landed squarely on Adhira.
Her mother saw it. It wasn't the lingering, inappropriate stare of a college boy.
It was a look of pure, unadulterated awe.
Shreyash looked at Adhira like she was the only source of light in the entire room, his dark eyes filled with a quiet, breathtaking reverence.
The moment Adhira's laughter subsided and she began to lower her head, Shreyash instantly snapped his gaze back to his water glass, tightly gripping the rim as if anchoring himself to reality.
Her mother felt a triumphant, deeply satisfied warmth bloom in her chest.
The dinner slowly transitioned to dessert. As the boys scattered into the living room with bowls of warm gajar ka halwa, her mother intercepted Shreyash just as he was quietly carrying his empty plate to the kitchen sink to wash his hands.
"Oh, leave that, beta, I'll take it," she insisted gently, taking the plate from him. "There's handwash right there."
"It's no problem, Aunty. The food was incredible. Thank you for having me," Shreyash said, his voice soft and polite as he dried his hands on a towel, respectfully keeping a step back.
"Ayan tells me your family lives just a few neighborhoods over, right here," she smiled, leaning back against the counter and crossing her arms.
Shreyash smiled, a genuine, fond expression touching his face. "Yes, Aunty. We've been in Bangalore my whole life."
"And Ayan also mentioned that your mother makes the most incredible traditional sweets for the festivals," she continued seamlessly. "I always struggle to get the sweet fillings just right. Does she really make them from scratch?"
"Oh, yes. She uses her grandmother's recipe," Shreyash nodded, completely falling into the velvet trap.
"Perfect," Adhira's mother beamed, pulling her phone out of her apron pocket with the swiftness of a seasoned diplomat. "Give me her number. I want to send her a quick message on WhatsApp to ask about her dry fruit ratio. We mothers have to stick together, you know."
Shreyash blinked, slightly taken aback by the sudden request, but he was far too polite to refuse an elder. "Uh... sure, Aunty. It's 98..."
She typed the digits in rapidly, saving the contact with a deeply satisfied smirk. Phase one complete.
"Thank you, beta," she said, slipping the phone back into her pocket.
She looked at him warmly, her tone shifting from casual chatter to something a bit more formal.
"Listen, Shreyash. Holi is just around the corner, next weekend.
We always throw a big party in our courtyard.
It's mostly family and very close friends. "
She paused, making sure he was looking directly at her.
"Since your parents are right here in the city, I'd love it if you all came. Please, tell them they are formally invited as our guests. I'd very much like to meet the woman who raised such a respectful, wonderful boy."
Shreyash's eyes widened a fraction, a little confused. He thought that Ayan's mother was incredibly nice, overly hospitable and trying to make sure everyone had a place to celebrate the festival. He saw a nice lady offering free food and colors.
"Oh, wow. Thank you, Aunty," Shreyash said, offering a bright, dimpled smile. "Ayan already told me to come early to help set up the water balloons, but I'll definitely tell my parents you invited them too. My mom loves Holi."
"Good," she patted his shoulder affectionately, highly amused by his total lack of awareness.
From the doorway of the kitchen, Adhira walked in, carrying two empty water jugs. She looked between her mother's beaming face and Shreyash's innocent, slightly confused expression.
"What's going on?" Adhira asked, her brow furrowing in slight suspicion. "Ma, why are you cornering my tutor?"
"Nothing, Adhi," her mother smiled serenely, turning back to the sink to start washing the plates. "Just exchanging recipes and making sure we have enough hands for the Holi party. Go join your brother."
Adhira shot Shreyash a questioning look, but he just gave a small, clueless shrug, avoiding her gaze as his ears turned pink again, and practically bolted back to the living room.
Her mother hummed a cheerful, upbeat tune over the sound of the running water, fully prepared to orchestrate the rest of her daughter's completely oblivious love life.