The Rathore's Family

Chaotic

The evening had settled into a calm quiet as the family gathered around the dinner table. The only sounds that filled the room were the clinking of plates and the soft murmur of conversation. However, two chairs remained empty—Vihaan and Amaira were absent.

Anjali, Drishti, and Riddhima moved gracefully around the table, placing food before everyone. The scent of warm food wafted through the room, but Advait's focus wasn't on his plate. His eyes were flickering between Drishti and on her bare feet that moved silently across the cold floor.

Every step she took made his chest tighten with worry. He wanted to tell her to sit down, to rest—but the words caught in his throat. He never found it easy to express his concern for her in front of others; a fear always surrounded him...

Advait's gaze shifted from Drishti to his mother, silently pleading with her to intervene. Anjali, ever aware of her son's unspoken words, understood immediately. She turned to Drishti, her voice gentle but firm. "Drishti, do not stand. Your injury needs rest. sit down and have dinner."

Drishti's lips curled into a faint smile, though there was a trace of reluctance in her eyes. "No, Ma, I'm fine," she insisted, her voice soft but resolute.

Advait's head remained lowered, his eyes fixed on the plate in front of him, but his voice carried a quiet authority. "If Ma is telling you something, just listen. No arguments."

His words hung in the air, Drishti glanced at Anjali, searching her eyes for reassurance. "I wasn't arguing, Ma," she whispered, her voice barely audible to anyone but Anjali.

Anjali reached out, her hand resting gently on Drishti's back, offering comfort in her touch. She nodded toward a chair, urging her to sit without needing to say another word.

Drishti finally relented, lowering herself into the seat, her gaze flickering toward Advait. Though he never looked directly at her, every glance he tried to hide. —sometimes, love speaks louder in silence.

.....................................

As everyone dispersed to their rooms, Anjali and Drishti remained in the kitchen, immersed in a conversation ...

Drishti followed closely behind Anjali, her steps hurried as she pleaded softly, "Ma, we can't just let Vihaan Bhaiya stay hungry.

"He will come his own when he wants to have something," Anjali said.

"but I want to give him the food myself."Anjali, sensing Drishti's persistence, came to an abrupt stop and turned to face her. Drishti, now standing still, looked at Anjali with hopeful, wide eyes, waiting for permission.

"Because it's the rule," Anjali said firmly, her voice calm but unyielding. "And besides, this is how he always acts when someone scolds him."

"Scolded?" Drishti's eyebrows furrowed with concern. "Who scolds him?"

"Your husband," Anjali replied simply, before turning away to finish her remaining tasks.

Drishti stood frozen for a moment, her lips pressing into a tight line. Inke paas koi aur kaam nahi hai kya? she mumbled under her breath, exasperated. Hearing this, Anjali chuckled softly, the sound filling the silence between them.

Despite Anjali's words, Drishti's resolve didn't waver. She quickly served a plate of food and looked up at Anjali, waiting for disapproval. But Anjali just glanced her way and said nothing, leaving Drishti to her own decision. Picking up the plate, Drishti squared her shoulders and said, "Ma, I'll take it to him. No one will even notice."