MOHABBAT-E-DIWAANGI ( Book 1)

27. Masoom ???✨

Happy reading yrra's 💗

The tension in the air was thick as Aadish and his father descended the stairs, their movements steady yet heavy with an unspoken weight. Revti was nearby, preoccupied with tending to her three sons, who were locked in some trivial argument. Aadish's father, Ansh, moved with precision, ignoring the chaos around him as he walked toward a side cabinet. His fingers moved deftly, opening the drawer to reveal a battered first-aid kit—something he had used countless times before.

Without a word, Ansh began cleaning Aadish's wound, the sharp scent of antiseptic filling the air. The injury was raw, angry, and needed immediate attention, especially with the risk of infection. Yet, his father's hands remained calm, steady as ever, as if bullet wounds were just another inconvenience to be dealt with. Once the task was complete, Ansh settled into the head sofa, its regal presence adding to the authority he naturally exuded, as if even the furniture bowed to his command.

But Aadish’s mind wasn't on his wound anymore. His eyes drifted to his brothers, who stood awkwardly before him. Their legs bent at strange angles, hands gripping their ankles, and expressions so ridiculous that Aadish couldn't help but be thrown off guard.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Why are these monkey-like faces holding their legs?" he thought to himself, utterly perplexed by the bizarre scene unfolding before him.

Avantika was still unconscious while Aadish and his father were coming downstairs where their mother revti and his three brothers were battering.

His mother’s gaze flickered toward him, unimpressed, her eyes sharp beneath her calm demeanor. There was no warmth or concern in the look she gave Aadish—just a silent command. Her fingers moved subtly, a single gesture that called him forward without a word. It was an unspoken language she had perfected, one that left no room for questioning. Aadish knew better than to hesitate.

Reluctantly, he obeyed, his mind a jumble of questions and growing tension. He wasn’t sure what awaited him, but the atmosphere felt heavy, as if the very air around them was holding its breath. His footsteps felt deliberate as he approached her, each step weighed down by confusion and an underlying sense of duty. To his left, his three brothers still stood awkwardly, bent over like children mimicking a game from their nursery days, gripping their legs with monkey-like expressions that only added to Aadish’s bewilderment.

Finally, standing before his mother, Aadish took a moment to glance around, soaking in the absurdity of the scene—his regal father seated in a throne-like chair, his brothers crouched like toddlers, and his mother, calm but with an unyielding authority that made him straighten up instinctively.

"Ji, Maa Sa, kahiye," he said softly, his voice polite yet edged with curiosity. He waited for her response, wondering what she would say, what this moment meant, and why, in all the confusion, his brothers were still standing there like that.

His mother’s voice, though she tried to soften it, carried a distinct edge of disappointment. "Guards kyu nhi the aapke saath?" (Why weren't the guards with you?) she asked, her words sharp enough to pierce through him. The softness she had tried to muster was overwhelmed by her anger. In that moment, Aadish realized that this wasn’t just his mother speaking—this was the queen, the ruler who had lived a life of fierce protection for her people. She was poised like a lioness, ready to strike at any threat to her family's safety.

The shift in her demeanor sent a cold shiver down his spine. He had faced his mother’s anger before, but this was different. This was the weight of a monarch’s wrath, someone who would not hesitate to defend her kingdom at any cost. Aadish, caught off guard, struggled to meet her gaze, feeling the full weight of her disappointment settling onto his shoulders.