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It's been a week since I married Dattatriya Agnivanshi - the most intense, brooding, emotionally constipated, yet weirdly perfect man alive. And somehow, despite all the stormclouds in his eyes and mafia-level glares, this past week has been nothing short of picture-perfect.
Every morning, I woke up wrapped in his arms like I was made to fit there. I don't even remember how I used to sleep before this man walked into my life and hijacked my bed with his warmth.
Every evening, we took walks in the enormous garden behind our house - well, I walked. Dattatriya mostly brooded like a philosophical villain in a black-and-white film. And Sheraa? My snow leopard cub ran around chasing butterflies like a lunatic on a sugar high.
Datta even cooked for me! Yes, cooked. And the man's a chef. I swear. His mutton curry could win awards. I told him he should start a mafia-themed restaurant. He didn't find it funny. But still cooked for me the next day, so I'm not complaining.
And every single night, without fail, before closing his eyes, he kissed my forehead.
It's all so romantic, right?
But...
BUT.
Let me tell you something, my dear friends.
Dattatriya Agnivanshi - my husband - has not kissed me. Not even once.
No, forehead kisses do not count. I'm talking about that kiss. Yes, that kiss. Don't act all sanskaari (innocent) now. You know what I mean.
At first, I thought, okay, he's a gentleman. Then I thought maybe he's waiting for the right moment.
But now...
WHAT IF HE'S GAY?!
Oh God, Katha! Serial dekhna band kar tu!
(Stop watching soap operas, Katha!)
Itna handsome pati ko gay bana diya tumne!
(You turned your handsome husband gay in your imagination!)
I actually facepalmed myself so hard I scared Sheraa, who chirped at me and hid behind the curtain.
Anyway.
Today is not the day to spiral. Because...
It's my baby boy Sheraa's 5-month birthday!
My cub is growing up too fast - soon he'll need his own jungle!
As usual, I kept a small celebration.
Papa is coming.
Bhairava bhaiya, Gyan bhaiya, Dyan bhaiya, Arya bhabhi (with her little bump!), and my laddu Utsav - everyone's joining.
Even Adya agreed to come this time.
And the best part?
I managed to blackmail my workaholic husband into taking leave today to help me cook Sheraa's favorite - his meat cake.
So there we were - me in my kitchen apron (which said Queen of the Jungle) and Dattatriya in a plain black t-shirt that somehow made him look like he'd stepped out of a mafia-themed Vogue shoot.
I handed him the mixing bowl. "You're on beating duty," I declared.
He raised an eyebrow. "Sunshine, you're dangerously bossy when you're in the kitchen."
"And you're dangerously sexy when you hold a spatula," I shot back without thinking - and immediately wanted to hide in the oven.
He smirked. "So you do find me attractive. Noted."
God save me from this man.
Now, let's see if today's party - and this meat cake - finally breaks the kiss curse.
I wore a cute pastel pink dress that swayed with every step, paired it with sleek black heels, clipped on some adorable earrings, and of course, wore my mangalsutra and vermilion with pride. The mirror showed me a very confident, very determined version of Katha.
"Waah Katha, today pakka your husband will kiss you!" I whispered to myself with a wink and patted my back like the dramatic queen I am.
Just then I turned around, fully expecting a dramatic drum roll - only to find my forehead-kiss-only husband standing behind me in a pitch black shirt and matching pants like he was attending a funeral instead of our baby's birthday.
"Tumhare paas kapde nahi hai kya?" I asked, hands on hips.
(Do you not own any other clothes?)
He looked at me, deeply offended. "Why, sunshine? I look good."
"You look like sadness personified. It's Sheraa's birthday! No one's allowed to wear depressing colors today. Go. Change." I pointed towards the wardrobe like a dictator with excellent fashion sense.
He raised one brow - then nodded obediently. Obediently.
I nearly fainted.
In five minutes, he returned wearing a cream shirt tucked neatly into soft brown pants. He looked like every Pinterest husband dream brought to life.
"Ab aayi na baat!" I grinned.
(Now that's more like it!)
He rolled his eyes playfully. "Happy now?"
"Very," I beamed, adjusting the collar of his shirt like I owned the man. (I mean, I technically do.)
"Now where's my birthday boy?" I asked, suddenly excited.
"Your family's here. Sheraa's with Utsav, looking like a furry prince."
My grin grew wider, and I took off running down the stairs, nearly tripping over my own heels - because if I knew my laddu and my cub, they were already up to mischief.
And tonight? Tonight felt special. Maybe... just maybe...
My husband might finally kiss me.
As soon as I came down, I saw my whole world gathered in one place - my family, my backbone, my madness.
"PAPAAA!!" I yelled with the excitement of a five-year-old seeing cotton candy.
I launched myself into his arms like a missile, and Papa caught me effortlessly, laughing with that deep voice that always made me feel like a little girl again.
"My Katha," he said, hugging me tightly, "you still jump like a monkey."
"Monkey? Please. I'm a royal panther now," I grinned, kissing his cheek.
"Royal panther who still steals chocolates from the fridge," he teased, and we both laughed as he finally put me down.
Next came Bhairava bhaiya, who opened his arms silently - and I ran into them without a second thought.
"My baby sister," he said quietly, hugging me like I was made of glass.
"Your baby sister just turned into someone's wife, bhaiya," I teased, poking his chest.
"Ya, don't remind me. I still think Dattatriya's too lucky."
"Damn right he is," I smirked, pulling back.
Then came Dyan bhaiya, who didn't even wait - just pulled me in roughly and said, "I still don't like that guy, but if he makes you smile like this, he can stay."
"Thanks for your approval, Your Majesty," I said, rolling my eyes, but hugged him tighter.
Gyan bhaiya came next with a soft smirk. "You didn't change at all. Still bossy. Still loud. Still my little menace."
"And you're still tattooed and scary but I love you."
"Good. Now get off before I cry."
Then came Arya bhabhi, glowing with that pregnancy radiance, and I instantly softened.
"Arya bhabhi," I whispered and hugged her gently. "You look like a goddess."
"And you look like a wife," she whispered back, "I'm so happy for you, Katha."
"I missed you so much," I said, pulling away with teary eyes.
"Me too," she smiled. "Now go hug your sulking baby brother before he explodes."
Utsav. My little laddu. My drama king.
He was standing with crossed arms, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. Classic 'You don't love me anymore' pose.
"Oh god, Ladla," I whispered and marched toward him.
"You hugged everyone before me," he said dramatically.
"Because I saved the most special for last." I hugged him tightly and whispered, "My baby boy, my hacker prince, my cupcake."
He melted instantly, arms wrapping around me. "I missed you so much, Di."
"I missed you more, Laddu."
Finally, I turned and saw my birthday boy.
Sheraa was sitting like a maharaja in Utsav's arms, a golden bow on his neck, big blue eyes sparkling.
"My prince," I whispered, reaching out. "Come to Mama."
Sheraa gave the tiniest roar and leapt into my arms - tail flicking happily.
"My baby's five months old," I said, cuddling him, "and we are going to party like never before."
The house echoed with laughter, love, and the start of a birthday night to remember.
Dattatriya, with all his usual calm but cold grace, walked over to Papa and bent a little to touch his feet. Papa blessed him warmly, resting a hand on his head with a proud smile.
"Khush reh, beta," he said. "And take care of my wild panther."
"I will, sir," Datta said seriously. "Always."
Then came Bhairava bhaiya - both of them hugged like two military commanders sharing silent battle respect. But Bhairava whispered something in Datta's ear that made him blink twice.
"You touch her tears, I'll touch your bones," Bhairava said with a smirk. "Happy married life, brother-in-law."
Datta nodded slowly, "Understood, general."
Then Dyan bhaiya hugged him and whispered, "You hurt her even in a dream... I'll enter that dream."
Gyan bhaiya just smiled lazily and said, "We have guns. Real ones. Just remember that."
Datta looked at me like 'Are they always like this?' and I just shrugged with a grin. "You married me, not the Choudhury army. But they come free with the package."
"Great," he muttered.
"Okay guys!" I clapped. "It's time! Cake cutting time!"
I carefully picked up Sheraa, who looked every bit the birthday prince in his custom golden bow. His nose twitched, catching the scent of his meat cake made of goat liver, heart, and tender meat.
We all stood around the decorated table as I placed him before his cake.
And then, with all the dramatic love of a first-time mother, I started the birthday song.
"|| Happy Birthday to You... Happy Birthday to You...||
|| Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday... Happy Birthday to Sheraa!! ||"
"Happy 5 months birthday, my baby, my highness, my snowball!" I squealed and kissed his head as he gave a delighted yelp and pawed the cake.
"Looks like he approves," Arya bhabhi laughed.
"He's eating like he paid the bill," Utsav said, snapping a photo.
Everyone laughed and cheered as Sheraa delicately nibbled on a piece I gave him. The moment was perfect.
We all sat at the dining table afterward. The food smelled divine - mutton curry, butter naan, pulao, kebabs, desserts...
Papa was telling Datta a story about how I once locked Bhairava bhaiya in a bathroom for teasing me.
"And she barricaded the door with bricks!" Papa said, laughing.
"She was seven!" Bhairava groaned. "You don't expect a seven-year-old to carry bricks!"
"You underestimate her," Datta replied with a smirk.
Arya bhabhi was feeding me gulab jamun while Utsav was sneakily feeding bits to Sheraa under the table.
Adya was telling Gyan bhaiya about a case that made him laugh for the first time in weeks.
It was perfect... too perfect.
And then - my phone rang.
The smile dropped from my lips.
"Unknown number..." I murmured and answered, "Hello?"
But the moment I heard the voice on the other end... my blood ran cold.
"Ma'am... Gowtham Chadda has escaped the dungeon."
The fork in my hand fell.
What?!
"No... how...?" I whispered, heart racing. My eyes slowly lifted to the dining table, where laughter still echoed like a lullaby.
I looked at my papa, laughing.
I looked at Arya bhabhi, glowing and peaceful.
I looked at my brothers, finally relaxed for once in years.
And then... I looked at Dattatriya.
He was smiling... genuinely... at something Papa said.
So peaceful. So unaware.
Will everything get ruined now?
Will my secret... the truth... destroy this family I just got back?
No. NO.
I turned away, phone still trembling in my hand.
Gowtham Chadda had escaped.
And so had the danger I buried.
But no one - not Gowtham, not fate, not even hell - would take my family away again.
Not while I'm alive.
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