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Shivank Kashyup was known for his rude, short-tempered, gunda-like personality. He didn’t care about anyone except his family—his mother, Niyati Bhabhi, and his three brothers. Beyond these select few, the world didn’t matter to him. But three years ago, everything changed. He moved to Delhi to complete his studies and work at the same time.
Since then, Shivank had transformed into a shadow of his former self. The boy who once laughed wholeheartedly now wore a fake personality outside the house. His laughter was hollow, his smiles forced. Deep inside, he was lost—drowning in sadness and utterly alone.
(i am not talking about you dear, don’t feel targeted)
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𝐒 𝐇 𝐈 𝐕 𝐀 𝐍 𝐊
I was on the phone with my twin brother, Dev, as always. Despite being away from him for over three years, he still knew everything about me. It was uncanny—he knew when I’d be home, when I was taking a break, when I’d slept. Everything.
“Oye, kya hua?” Dev asked, breaking my thoughts.
“Haan… kuch nahi. Baaki sab kahan hai?” I asked curiously, noticing the absence of the usual chatter. Surprisingly, I didn’t hear the usual ‘maami ki behen ki beti’ gossip from Bhabhi today.
He shifted the phone slightly, showing Niyati Bhabhi sitting behind him on a cot.
“Kaise ho, Bhabhi?” I asked, forcing a smile.
“Main bilkul thik hoon, Shivank. Tu kaisa hai?” she replied, her voice laced with concern.
No, Bhabhi, I’m not fine. My head feels like it will explode any second. My body is burning with fever, and I don’t have the energy to cook anything, even if I had food. But I couldn’t tell her that.
“Main bilkul thik hoon… Ashu Bhai kahan hai?” I asked, plastering a fake smile.
“Ashu Bhai toh dukan se aaye hi nahi,” Dev answered, sounding annoyed.
“Yaar, tumlog kya boring baatein kar rahe ho? Subah se kuch interesting toh kiya nahi maine,” Dev whined, acting like a kid.
“Kyun? Woh chipkali nahi tapki aaj ghar pe?” I asked, almost instinctively. It had become my routine to ask about her daily. I thought she’d fight with everyone and eventually talk to me. But she never did. Maybe she didn’t care. I wish she did. I don’t know why, but I want to see her, meet her—just as much as I want to see my family.
