" 𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑑."
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Aisha , her name alone melts the coldest hearts, and her bright smile brightens their days. The cheery, bright, and sometimes...
HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025! 🎉✨ Wishing you all joy, success, and unforgettable memories this year! 🌟💖
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It's been three days since I officially moved into my home—Yep, home—the Oberoi Mansion. Sounds fancy, right? To be fair, I've already been crashing here for months, so it's not exactly new. But calling it "home" feels... different. There's this tiny flutter in my chest—like an annoying little butterfly that refuses to leave. Weird.
Oh, and here's the kicker: Dad convinced Saad Bhai to move in too. Well, convinced might be a stretch—it was more of a command. Not that I'm complaining! I mean, leaving him behind was giving me major guilt trips, but Dad, my superhero and told Bhai to pack up and move in.
Technically, Bhai still owns his mansion and can visit whenever he wants, but this place? This is home base now. Turns out, Dad wasn't thrilled about Bhai living alone. Honestly, same. Bhai might act all tough and mysterious, but even Batman needs a Batcave full of people sometimes.
The past three days have been a rollercoaster. And by rollercoaster, I mean a weird mix of awkward family moments and me realizing my grandmother—Dadi—is a human chameleon. No, really. The woman changes colors faster than my mood swings.
Case in point: the moment Dad announced that ta-da! I, his long-lost daughter, am alive. For a split second, Dadi looked like she'd seen a ghost. Her face went pale, her eyes widened, and I swear I caught her brain short-circuiting. But then—boom!—she snapped back into her sugar-coated grandma act, smiling so hard I thought her cheeks might crack. It's all very charming... until we're alone. That's when her real self comes out.
She doesn't say anything, but her glares? Oh, those are weapons. They scream, "I don't like you, but I can't say it out loud because I'll look bad." Honestly, it's almost funny—almost.
But don't worry, I'm not one to back down. If she ever decides to test me, well, let's just say I'm fully equipped for battle.
Right now, though, I'm flopped on my bed in my temporary room. My real room? Under renovation. Apparently, Dad had it designed before I was born. Awww, right? Except it's basically a nursery straight out of a Pinterest board, complete with a crib. Oh, and let's not forget Vikkie's genius observation: "I bet you could still fit in it."
Spoiler alert: I can't.
To prove my point, I shoved his big head into the crib. Let's just say he wasn't thrilled. And me? Totally worth it.
Anyway, it's 10 a.m., and no one has bothered to wake me up. Shocking, I know. Here's why: the first day, everyone was all over me—hovering, checking in, making sure I was comfortable. But three days in? They've realized I'm a full-time job.
