Kaise yeh yaarian

Part 37

JAM ROOM – MOMENTS LATER

The last note of Nandini's voice lingers like smoke in the room.
Her eyes glisten, betraying emotions she rarely lets anyone see.

Mukti notices first, her brow furrowing.

MUKTI
(careful, almost whispering)
Why the tears, Nandu?

Nandini exhales slowly, hugging her notebook tighter to her chest. For a moment, she doesn't answer. The silence presses down on everyone, heavy and still.

Cabir leans forward on his drum stool, voice gentler than usual.

CABIR
Tell us... what were they like?

Nandini looks up. For the first time tonight, her face softens — not with anger, not with bravado, but with memory.

NANDINI
(voice fragile, then steadier)
My mom... she wasn't like anyone else.
(swallows, then a flicker of pride)
She was stubborn. Headstrong. The kind of woman who never accepted "no" for an answer. She could argue with the world if she thought she was right.
(beat, softer)
But she was also the kindest soul I've ever known. A doctor. Healing people wasn't just her job... it was her purpose.

Her lips tremble, but her eyes gleam with fierce admiration.

NANDINI (CONT'D)
She was fire. Pure fire.

Mukti's eyes glisten, her voice low, almost reverent.

MUKTI
That... explains the fire in you.

A small laugh slips from Nandini, but it's tinged with sadness.

NANDINI (CONT'D)
And my dad... he was her calm. Her anchor. The most patient man alive. He was a businessman, but honestly? The way he loved her — loved us — that was his real profession.
(her voice breaks, tears spilling)
I never once saw him put anything above her. Above me.

She wipes her cheek, but the tears keep coming.

NANDINI (CONT'D)
They weren't just parents. They were partners. She was the storm. He was the silence after it. Together... they were everything.

The Fab5 listen in silence — transfixed, shaken.
Mukti presses her lips together, fighting her own tears.
Dhruv stares at the floor, his chest rising sharply.
Alia's face is unreadable, but her eyes soften.
Cabir swallows hard, tapping his thigh once like he's grounding himself.
And Manik... he sits frozen, guitar untouched, eyes locked on her as though blinking might break her.

Nandini sniffles, then straightens, her tone shifting — firmer, almost defiant.

NANDINI (CONT'D)
That's why I write. Why I sing. Not because it's pretty. Not because it's fun.
(beat, her voice rising)
Every lyric. Every note. Keeps them alive with me.

She strokes the cover of her notebook, fingers tender, protective.

NANDINI (CONT'D)
Music isn't just sound. It's memory.
(beat, trembling but strong)
It's survival.

The silence after her words feels sacred. Heavy. No one dares breathe too loudly.

Dhruv leans forward, his voice a whisper.

DHRUV
(softly)
They sound... incredible. Tell us more.

Nandini's breath catches. She hesitates, then gives a small, shaky smile.

NANDINI
You know the best part? They never said no. Not once.
(beat, voice breaking but proud)
It never felt like I had "parents." It felt like I had two best friends who happened to raise me.