𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒕𝒆✨️🦢🌷🪞

Chapter 24: Pehli Rasoi🪞✨️

Song suggestion: Rabba

थोड़ी-थोड़ी कत्थी देखें उसकी आंखें
थोडी सुरमे भारी
हम्म थोड़ी-थोड़ी कत्थी देखें उसकी आंखें
थोडी सुरमे भारी
उसके होठों पे मुस्कुराए हाए दुनिया मेरी

---𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘---

"Chalo," Neeta said gently, clapping her hands once. "Let's start with your first Rasoi"

Meera nodded and followed her toward the kitchen. Her steps were steady, composed, but the silence beside her was noticeable. Sidharth followed too.

Dev leaned against the counter with a grin. "Yes bhabhi, jo mann kare bana lena. Even if it's poison, bhai toh zaroor khaega."

Meera's head snapped toward him. "What?"

The room burst into laughter. Sidharth shot Dev a sharp glare while Vedang cleared his throat loudly in mock warning.

"Bas bas," Megha said, smiling as she ushered everyone back.

Neeta placed a reassuring hand on Meera's shoulder. "Beta, you can cook whatever you like. No pressure. If you need anything, the cook is here. We're outside."

"Ji," Meera replied softly.

Everyone began walking out. Sidharth stepped back as well, but Ram's voice stopped him.

"Where are you going?"

He turned, slightly confused. "Outside."

Ram folded his hands behind his back. "Nahi. First rasoi mein pati ko bhi andar rehna padta hai."

Sidharth blinked. "Kab se?"

Ajay walked up, hiding a smile. "Arre, tujhe pata nahi? Husband helps the wife. Tradition hai."

Dev grinned. "Very important tradition."

Before Sidharth could argue, they were already moving out.

As their footsteps faded, Neeta murmured softly, "Aisi koi rasam nahi hai humare yahan."

Ajay's amused voice followed, "I know. Par kabhi kabhi rasam banani padti hai."

The door shut behind them.

────────────────────────
Meera's POV

The kitchen suddenly felt too quiet. I could still hear faint laughter from the living room, the shuffle of movement, the deliberate effort to give us space.

But inside, it was just him and me. And the silence we hadn't resolved.

"So... what are you planning to make?" he asked.

His tone was normal. Almost casual.

"You don't have to be here," I replied without looking at him. "You can go out."

"I can't."

"Then just stand there. I don't need your help."

The words came colder than I intended, but I didn't take them back.

I moved toward the stove instead.

"I'll make Shahi Tukda."

Of course I would choose something elaborate. Something that required attention.