A Symphony Of Silence And Storm

Aadhya In Oberoi Mansion

Shreya, after chatting with Annika, packed the children's things and announced they were going to visit their Mausa ji and his family. The children were thrilled about any outing, even if it meant meeting someone new.

Back at Oberoi Mansion, Dadi, Pinky, Jahnvi, Om, and Rudra were gathered in the hall, eagerly awaiting Shreya's arrival. Prachi was away, visiting her father's house. The others sat beside Dadi, who grumbled, "I told you it wasn't bothering me anymore. Why did you call Shreya? She's probably busy."

Om chuckled and responded to Dadi, "We just wanted to be sure, Dadi. Plus, it's been a while since I've seen Shreya in person, just video calls. This way, I get an excuse to see her too."

His response sparked laughter among the others. Suddenly they heard a voice say, "Careful, Advik!"

All eyes turned towards the doorway as Shreya entered, a whirlwind of activity in her wake. A young boy clung to her hand, while a little girl walked beside him. A third child, nestled comfortably in a stroller, completed the picture. Shreya, burdened with their luggage slung over her shoulder, collapsed onto the couch with a grateful sigh.

The journey, wrangling three children on her own, had clearly been exhausting. Advik and Aadhya, overwhelmed by the room full of unfamiliar faces, retreated into shy silence. Meanwhile Ritvik remained blissfully asleep in his stroller.

Shreya's arrival caused a stir in the room. Curious eyes turned towards her and the three children shepherded in her wake. Rudra, ever the jokester, couldn't resist a playful barb.

"Bhabi," he teased, "who are these little ones? Did you kidnap them?"

Shreya swatted him playfully. "Shut up, Rudy! They're my cousin's children. I was babysitting them when Om called and asked me to come here."

She then turned her attention to Advik and Aadhya, who sat quietly observing the room. Their subdued demeanor contrasted sharply with their usual boisterousness on car rides.

"Why so quiet, you two?" Shreya inquired with a smile. "You wouldn't stop talking the entire ride, and now you're acting all innocent?"

With a playful nudge, she encouraged them to introduce themselves. Advik, ever the responsible elder brother, stood up straight.

"I'm Advik, eight years old," he declared proudly. "This is my sister Aadhya, she's four, and that's our brother Ritvik, who's two."

Aadhya and Advik then proceeded to touch the feet of the elders present, a gesture that warmed Dadi's heart.

"Such good manners!" she exclaimed, genuinely impressed.

Aadhya, puffing out her chest with pride, replied, "Mumma says it's good to take blessings from elders. It helps us in many ways."

Her response drew admiring glances from everyone. Her mother had instilled strong values in her children.

Aadhya, ever the chatty one, couldn't resist the urge to break the ice after the introductions.

"Maasi," she piped up, her voice full of innocent curiosity, "who's Mausaji?"

Shreya, anticipating her question, decided to have some fun. "Well, Aadhya," she teased, "who do you think your Mausaji is?"

Aadhya's bright eyes scanned the room, taking in each face before delivering her verdict. "Mausaji isn't here," she declared, leaving everyone momentarily stunned.

Shreya, her curiosity piqued, prompted her further. "Why do you say that, Aadhya?"

Aadhya, ever the literal thinker, explained her reasoning. "You said Mausaji is handsome," she pointed out. "But everyone here is a girl. And that uncle," she continued, pointing a chubby finger at Rudra, "doesn't even wear his clothes properly," she declared with a hint of disapproval in her voice, "and he's definitely not handsome!"

Shreya couldn't help but burst into laughter at Aadhya's unfiltered honesty. Om, who had his long hair flowing freely at that moment, became the target of her next observation.

"This is your Mausaji," Shreya explained, pointing towards Om.

Aadhya, wide-eyed, tilted her head in confusion. "But Mausaji is a girl!" she declared, sending another wave of laughter through the room.

Om's amusement bubbled over into a warm chuckle as he received Aadhya's innocent declaration. He extended a hand towards her, his voice gentle and inviting.

"Well hello there, little one," he greeted. "I may have long hair, but that doesn't make me a girl. I'm Om, your Mausaji."

Aadhya, grappling with this new information, approached Om cautiously. Her hand hovered near his, a question lingering in her eyes. She glanced up at Shreya, seeking reassurance.

Shreya, stifling another laugh, knelt beside Aadhya. "Yes, meri jaan ," she confirmed. "This is your Mausaji Om. He just prefers to keep his hair long, that's all."

With that reassurance, Aadhya placed her small hand in Om's. Her gaze, wide with curiosity, traveled from Om to her brother, Advik.

"Bhaiya," she declared, her voice laced with concern, "you shouldn't keep your hair like Mausaji, everyone will think you're a girl!"

Next, her attention shifted to Rudra, his attire a subject of fascination for the little one. "Who is this uncle, Maasi?" she inquired, directing the question at Shreya. "Why isn't he dressed properly?"

Rudra, feeling a prickle of offense, puffed out his chest. "This is fashion, something you wouldn't understand as a little kid," he retorted.

Aadhya, her pride piqued, puffed out her own chest and crossed her arms. "I am not a kid!" she declared. "I'm a big girl, four years old! You, on the other hand, are a big kid who doesn't know how to dress properly!" She stuck her tongue out at him with a flourish before settling back beside Shreya, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

Rudra, about to launch into a retort, was interrupted by Om's gentle intervention. "Rudra," he said, his voice laced with amusement, "let's not bicker like children." He then turned to Shreya with a raised eyebrow. "Perhaps you could examine Dadi while we keep the little ones entertained?"

Shreya readily agreed, a playful glint in her eyes. "Of course, Om. These little ones have a talent for finding entertainment, even in the most unexpected places." With a wink at Aadhya, who giggled in response, Shreya took Dadi's arm and guided her towards a quieter corner of the room.

The children, momentarily distracted by the commotion, soon turned their attention back to Om. The next hour flew by in a flurry of activity. Om, a natural storyteller, regaled them with tales of his childhood adventures, his voice morphing into different characters to keep them enthralled. Aadhya, ever the chatterbox, peppered him with questions, her curiosity seemingly boundless.  Rudra, initially aloof, found himself drawn into their world, a grudging smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he observed Om's playful interactions with the children.

After a whirlwind of stories, laughter, and boundless energy, it was finally time for them to leave. Bidding farewell to the Oberoi family, Shreya bundled the children into the car and they departed, leaving the Oberoi Mansion bathed in a comfortable silence once more.

"It was lovely to have the children around," Dadi remarked, a nostalgic smile gracing her lips.

Pinky chimed in, "Yes, Mummy ji. Seeing Aadhya, she reminded me so much of Shivay. If he had had a child, it would have been just like her – the same eyes, the same nose. You could put them side-by-side, and everyone would think she was his daughter."

Pinky's words sparked something in Om's mind. He decided to hold onto that thought, intending to discuss it with Dadi later. The possibility it presented was intriguing, to say the least.