A Symphony Of Silence And Storm

Does Rudra like his bhabhi

Tension crackled in the Oberoi mansion living room. Pinky, a whirlwind of nervous energy, tapped her foot incessantly, her gaze fixed on the doorway. Jhanvi, nestled comfortably on the couch with a magazine, finally snapped.

"Pinky, for goodness sake, stop that infernal tapping! My head is already throbbing thanks to your…enthusiasm."

Pinky bristled. "It's not my tapping that's bothering you, Jethani ji, it's your constant need for a drink! I'm simply on edge because Shivay's in-laws will be here any minute. One mistake, and we're finished!"

Jhanvi snorted, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. "Relax, Pinky. We hold all the cards here.Shivay is the son. Relax, they'll be charmed, I'm sure."

Pinky's agitation subsided a little, but a sliver of doubt remained. A simple village girl plucked from obscurity, she'd been chosen by Shivay's father as the ideal match for his younger son. The elder son already had a sophisticated, well-educated wife; the younger one deserved a simpler, more malleable woman.

Pinky's transition from village life to the city had been a struggle. Jhanvi, ever the social butterfly, had tried to help, but Pinky's insecurities festered. At gatherings, she felt out of place – her accent a giveaway, her clothes a mismatch. Attempts to adapt had been half-hearted, a reflection of her own internal conflict.

Motherhood, she'd believed, would elevate her status. And it had. Not the youngest daughter-in-law anymore, but the mother of the eldest grandchild. After Shivay's birth, her focus narrowed. English lessons, extracurricular activities – everything was geared towards one goal: Shivay's academic dominance.

One fateful day, Pinky had returned from a social event, tears streaming down her face. Shivay, witnessing his mother's distress, had demanded an explanation. That's when the promise was made. A promise fueled by a child's desire to see his mother happy. Shivay, yearning for affection, had vowed to be the number one student, the CEO of the Oberoi Empire – all to earn his mother's pride and banish her tears forever. The weight of that promise had eclipsed his own desires, shaping him into a man who chased external validation instead of his own dreams.

Now, on the cusp of becoming a mother-in-law herself, Pinky craved a different future for her daughter-in-law. No more ridicule, no more social ostracization. Kanika Ahuja, with her wealth, education, designer wardrobe, and polished conversation, seemed to embody everything Pinky desired. In Kanika, Pinky saw not just a daughter-in-law, but a reflection of the woman she'd always yearned to be.

A shrill doorbell pierced the tense atmosphere in the Oberoi mansion. Pinky and Jhanvi exchanged a nervous glance. Jhanvi nudged Pinky towards the door, a silent reminder of hostess duties.

Pinky plastered a smile on her face and hurried towards the entrance. Flinging the door open, she gushed, "I've been waiting for you! Please, come in."

The figure standing on the doorstep wasn't who Pinky expected. It was Rudra, his face etched with amusement. "Chachi," he drawled, "who are you expecting? Me?"

Pinky's eyes widened in horror. Caught in the act of preening for non-existent guests, she stammered, "Oh, Rudra! I thought it was Shivay's in-laws."

Rudra burst into laughter. "Chachi, maybe peek through the peephole next time before welcoming everyone with open arms!" He sauntered past her, collapsing onto a plush couch in the living room.

Pinky, flustered and embarrassed, was about to shut the door when the sound of approaching footsteps made her pause. Relief washed over her as she saw the actual guests – Kanika, flanked by her parents, Mrs. and Mr. Ahuja.

Greetings were exchanged, and Pinky ushered them inside, seating them on the plush couches. Kanika, a vision in a knee-length blue dress, her fair complexion accentuated by loose, flowing hair, exuded an air of confidence.