✦ 𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗣𝗢𝗩 ✦

The serene sound of temple bells echoed through the air, while the soft murmur of sacred mantras wrapped around the surroundings like a comforting embrace.

Devotees entered and left the Shiv temple, some already done with their morning prayers while others remained lost in the soothing rhythm of worshipping Bholenath.

At the centre of the temple stood the sacred Shivling, surrounded by waist-high railings. Just beside it stood a boy, dressed in a crisp white school shirt, navy-blue trousers, and a neatly ironed navy-blue blazer, looking every bit the disciplined school student.

His eyes remained closed, his lips moving gently as he chanted the mantra. With both hands steady, he slowly poured the jal from a small brass container over the Shivling.

He seemed completely immersed in his prayers, his posture carrying a rare sense of peace, as though he had left every burden of his heart at Bholenath's feet.

Gradually, he opened his eyes. The gentle morning sunlight filtering through the temple entrance caught his honey-brown irises, making them shimmer softly.

He placed the flowers upon the Shivling before joining his palms in reverence. Offering one final glance towards the deity, he slowly stepped backwards, never turning his back on the Shivling until it disappeared from his sight. Only then did he turn around and walked out of the temple.

A few devotees couldn't help but glance at the young boy with quiet curiosity. It wasn't every day they saw someone his age performing every step of the morning prayers with such unwavering devotion and sincerity.

He continued walking silently, his gaze fixed upon the road ahead.

After a few minutes, he stopped in front of a modest house.

Before stepping inside, he washed his bare feet beneath the garden tap, wiped them dry against the grass, and quietly entered the house.

"Ishaan...? You went to the temple?" asked his mother, Isha Kashyap.

Ishaan looked at her and offered a soft smile before replying, "Yes, Mumma..."

His voice was low and gentle, carrying the quiet sweetness that naturally belonged to him.

His mother smiled at his answer, leaned forward, and kissed his forehead.

"My baccha... such a sweet boy."

Her eyes shimmered with unmistakable motherly affection.

Ishaan's own eyes softened at her words. He gave her a brief hug, about to say something, when his father, Deep Kashyap, called out to her from their room.

She gently patted his head before heading towards the bedroom.

Meanwhile, Ishaan walked into the kitchen to keep the brass container back in its place, only to find his Badi Maa, Vandana Kashyap, busy making aloo parathas for breakfast.

Vandana glanced at him while rolling another paratha and smiled.

"Look at you, baccha... ready for school before time. And I'm sure my useless son is still sleeping."

Her voice carried equal amounts of motherly warmth and playful sarcasm when referring to her useless son.

Ishaan smiled shyly at the compliment and, out of habit, bit his lower lip.

Vandana chuckled.

"Shaan... you get shy over every tiny compliment."

She shook her head fondly before continuing,

"You know, my mother used to say that shy people always end up with someone completely opposite."

A teasing smile slowly spread across her lips as she lowered her voice.

"How will you manage your shyness if you end up with someone who spends all day finding new ways to tease you?"

The words immediately painted his cheeks pink.

Embarrassment crept onto his face as he rubbed the back of his neck, desperately searching for a way to escape the conversation.

"I-I... should I help you, Badi Maa?"

His voice wavered with nervousness as he quietly picked up the tongs, flipped the paratha, and brushed it with ghee.

Vandana laughed at the poor boy's obvious escape attempt and decided to spare him any further teasing.

The two continued working in comfortable silence.

Just then, Prashant Kashyap walked into the kitchen.

His expression carried the unmistakable authority that only a disciplined, retired Army officer could possess.

For a brief moment...

...the atmosphere inside the kitchen shifted.

He glanced at his wife before shifting his gaze to his nephew.

The moment Ishaan noticed him, he instinctively lowered his eyes and focused on the tawa. However, the way he unconsciously bit his lower lip in nervousness didn't escape Vandana's notice.

Prashant walked towards the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water.

For some reason, his mere presence made the atmosphere inside the kitchen turn tense.

He poured himself a glass of water, his gaze never leaving Ishaan as he finally spoke.

"Ishaan."

His voice was firm and clear-less like he was addressing his nephew and more like a senior officer speaking to one of his juniors.

Ishaan immediately turned towards him.

"Y-yes, Bade Papa..."

His voice cracked slightly, betraying the composure he was trying so hard to maintain.

Vandana stilled as well.

Her fingers curled tightly around the rolling pin as she silently prayed that her husband wouldn't say something that would hurt the poor boy again.

Prashant finished the water and calmly placed the glass back on the counter before continuing,

"Focus on trying to change yourself. You won't remain a teenager forever. You should invest some time in becoming emotionally stronger."

Ishaan visibly flinched at the words, even though he had heard them countless times before.

He knew how much his Bade Papa wanted him to become less emotional... less sensitive... to stop being the quiet, isolated introvert who constantly tried to make himself smaller.

Vandana's eyes softened the moment she saw the hurt flicker across his face.

She glanced at her husband.

His expression clearly said that, in his mind, he was doing the right thing.

Prashant continued looking at Ishaan, silently waiting for a response.

After a few seconds, Ishaan drew in a slow breath.

His gaze remained lowered, his fingers fidgeting with the fabric of his trousers as he finally whispered,

"O-okay..."

The word was so quiet that it was almost swallowed by the silence in the kitchen.

Prashant gave a small nod before walking out.

Vandana looked at Ishaan once again.

For a moment, she wanted to say something-to comfort him, to reassure him-but she knew it would be pointless.

Ishaan remained standing there for a few silent moments, as though replaying every word in his mind.

Then, just like always, his expression settled back into its familiar calmness...

...the kind of calm that only comes after hearing the same words so many times that they've become a part of your everyday life.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment before turning towards Vandana.

"I'll go wake Laksh up..."

His voice remained calm and quiet, as though he hadn't just been instructed to change himself like a soldier being given orders.

Vandana could only nod.

She gently patted his shoulder before turning back to the stove to continue making parathas.

Meanwhile, Ishaan walked out of the kitchen and headed upstairs towards Laksh's room, his mind still lingering on the conversation that had just taken place.

He absentmindedly pushed open the door.

The room was still dipped in darkness, except for the soft morning sunlight filtering through the half-open curtains.

Ishaan looked towards the bed.

Or... what was supposed to be the bed.

Laksh's sleeping figure was sprawled across it-half on the mattress and half dangling off the edge as though gravity had simply given up on him.

Ishaan sighed at his brother's ridiculous sleeping position before switching on the lights.

As the room brightened, the full disaster finally became visible.

The blanket was tightly wrapped around one of Laksh's legs.

One pillow lay abandoned on the floor.

The other was trapped securely between his arms...

...because Laksh was hugging it like the love of his life.

But strangely...

...it wasn't the pillow that caught Ishaan's attention.

It was Laksh's face.

His lips were slightly puckered...

...as though he was actually kissing something.

Ishaan's eyes widened.

His mouth slowly fell open as he watched Laksh lovingly kiss the pillow with such tenderness that anyone would assume it wasn't a pillow at all-but a delicate flower.

He stared for another second.

No.

He had seen enough.

Walking over to the bed, he shook Laksh's shoulder.

Laksh merely whined like a kicked puppy before rolling onto his stomach, both legs now dangling off the bed.

Ishaan let out a long, defeated sigh.

Done with the drama, he shook him much harder this time.

Laksh jerked awake as though someone had just launched a missile at him.

He sat upright instantly, breathing heavily.

"B-Bhukamp... bhukamp aa gaya!"

He was still half asleep.

His eyelids were barely open, his hair pointed in every possible direction, and a faint trail of dried saliva decorated one side of his cheek.

Ishaan pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Laksh... bhukamp nahi aaya hai."

He paused before adding,

"But if you don't wake up now, Bade Papa might bring one."

Laksh blinked twice.

Still loading.

Ishaan looked at him awkwardly before asking,

"...Aur tu ye kya ajeeb harkat kar raha tha?"

His voice carried equal parts confusion and second-hand embarrassment.

Laksh frowned as though someone had asked him to solve an advanced Physics derivation in his sleep.

"Kya harkat...? So raha tha main to, Basanti..."

Ishaan huffed.

"You... you were trying to... trying to kiss the pillow..."

His voice stuttered like a child caught stealing chocolates.

Laksh let out a loud yawn, stretching like a lazy cat.

He rubbed his cheek affectionately before casually replying,

"Sapne mein apne reflection ko kiss kar raha tha."

Ishaan blinked.

Then, with complete innocence, he asked,

"To... tu gay hai?"

His eyes were filled with genuine curiosity, his lower lip curling into the tiniest pout as though he had asked the most logical question in the world.

Laksh's neck snapped towards him so dramatically that it could rival every Indian soap opera mother-in-law ever created.

He stared at Ishaan in utter disbelief before blurting,

"Saale! Main straight hoon! Dikhaun tujhe?!"

Without even realizing it himself, Ishaan slowly

nodded.

"Haan..."

His voice was filled with pure innocence and curiosity, while his brain was still trying to process his brother's... self-love demonstration.

"Saale! Ab kya tujhe kidney khol ke prove karun ki main straight hoon?!"

Laksh snapped like a puppy whose tail had just been stepped on.

Ishaan took a few seconds to process both his own question and Laksh's response.

Then...

...his expression went completely blank.

It was the look of someone who had officially given up-not only on Laksh's nonsense but also on his own brain for asking that question in the first place.

He simply stared at Laksh.

Silently debating whether he should beat him...

...or get him admitted to a mental hospital.

Meanwhile, Laksh had already forgotten the entire argument.

He let out an exhausted sigh, wiped the corner of his lips, and grumbled,

"Sone bhi nahi dete ye zaalim log, meri beauty sleep kharab kar di..."

With that, he dramatically flopped back onto the bed, fully prepared to resume his interrupted sleep.

Ishaan stared at him for a whole minute.

He genuinely regretted every life decision that had somehow led to Laksh becoming his brother.

Without another word, he grabbed Laksh by the collar, dragged him off the bed, ignored all his dramatic whining and flailing arms, and unceremoniously dumped him inside the washroom...

...like an empty chips packet.

Laksh's loud complaints and dramatic curses echoed from inside the bathroom, but Ishaan didn't pay the slightest attention.

Instead, he quietly made Laksh's bed, neatly placed his uniform on it, checked his school bag to make sure everything was packed, and finally walked back to his own room.

His room still wasn't arranged the way he liked.

But then again...

...he was still trying to gather the scattered pieces of his old life.

His father's sudden transfer to the Mumbai branch of the company had forced the entire family to shift cities almost overnight.

Before this...

...they had lived in Dehradun for nearly fifteen years.

Leaving that city behind felt like leaving the most beautiful chapter of their lives unfinished.

Their house...

The memories they'd created...

Their neighbours...

Their friends...

Everything had been left behind.

The goodbye hadn't been easy.

But life never really pauses long enough to let people prepare themselves for farewells.

A faint smile found its way onto his lips as his fingers gently brushed against a photo frame resting on the shelf.

It was a picture of him and Laksh standing together in the garden of their old house.

They were barely ten years old back then.

That garden had once been their favourite place in the entire world.

The memory tightened something inside his chest.

His eyes slowly turned misty.

His heart ached with a familiar longing.

This...

...this was the real Ishaan.

The boy who cried while remembering old memories.

The boy who couldn't let people go easily.

The boy who felt everything a little too deeply.

And perhaps...

...that was exactly why some people in his own family believed he needed to change.

He had grown up hearing the same words over and over again.

That he should become more confident.

More outspoken.

More fearless.

Less emotional.

Less... feminine.

People often told him-

"You're too sensitive for a boy."

"You're not man enough."

"You need to toughen up."

Every sentence echoed inside his mind once again.

His vision blurred as another tear escaped his eye.

He quickly wiped it away before anyone could see.

Closing his eyes, he took a slow, steady breath, forcing every emotion back into the corner of his heart where he'd learned to keep them hidden.

When he opened them again...

...they had returned to their familiar calmness.

Like a still ocean after a passing storm.

He gently caressed the photo frame one last time before finally turning towards his school bag.

He carefully checked it once again, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything important.

Satisfied, he slipped on his socks, wore his new school shoes, and pulled the straps of his bag over his shoulders.

Just then, Laksh entered the room.

He was currently losing an intense wrestling match with his tie knot.

Ishaan looked at him for a moment before simply shaking his head.

Laksh glanced at him and muttered,

"Basanti, tu to ready ho gayi?! Main abhi tak tie se hi lad raha hoon... aur mujhe abhi skincare bhi karni hai."

His voice began with complaint...

...and ended with complete seriousness the moment he mentioned his skincare routine.

Ishaan's expression mirrored his struggle to stop himself from saying something to Laksh.

After a brief moment, he chose patience instead.

"Then do it, Laksh. We have to leave for school at 7:30."

His voice, as always, remained calm and gentle.

Laksh nodded absentmindedly, still locked in a losing battle with his tie knot.

Ishaan closed his eyes for a second and shook his head, officially done with Laksh's daily drama.

Walking over to him, he quietly took the tie from his hands and adjusted it with practiced ease, unlike Laksh, who looked as though he'd been wrestling with it for the past ten minutes.

Laksh stared at him with a How the hell did you even do that? expression.

Ishaan simply smiled-a small, knowing smile.

"Now go and do your skincare," he said softly. "We can't be late on the very first day."

With that, he picked up his phone and walked out of the room while Laksh hurried back to his own room, muttering something about moisturiser.

Ishaan carefully walked downstairs.

Reaching the last step, he turned towards the dining area.

His father, Deep, was having breakfast while discussing something with Prashant. His mother, Isha, sat quietly beside him, and Vandana was occupied with something on her phone.

Without making much noise, Ishaan slipped into his seat, placed his school bag on the chair beside him, and softly greeted,

"Good morning, Papa..."

His voice was so quiet that it almost sounded like he was afraid of disturbing him.

Deep looked up.

His gaze rested on Ishaan for a brief moment before he simply replied,

"Morning."

His tone remained neutral.

Isha glanced at her husband before looking at Ishaan.

She offered him a gentle smile-

Don't overthink. Everything is fine.

His lips curved into a faint smile in return as he served himself an aloo paratha along with some curd.

Everyone remained busy with their breakfast...

...until Laksh entered the dining area, loudly singing,

"I'm the best... I'm the best... I'm the best..."

His voice sounded like a broken tape recorder, though he remained blissfully unaware of the fact.

Deep and Prashant simultaneously turned to look at him.

Meanwhile, Ishaan and Vandana continued eating as though nothing unusual had happened, while Isha let out a quiet chuckle.

The moment Laksh noticed the attention on him, he gave an exaggerated bow.

"Thank you for such an amazing response."

His voice dripped with confidence...

...a confidence that existed only inside his own head.

Deep merely shook his head and returned to his breakfast.

Prashant, however, shot Laksh a stare powerful enough to make most people question their existence.

Laksh, as always, remained completely unaffected.

He grabbed an aloo paratha from the casserole, rolled it up, and took such a gigantic bite that his cheeks puffed out like an overstuffed samosa.

He chewed it with complete dedication...

...rather like a buffalo peacefully chewing grass.

Within a minute, half the paratha had disappeared.

Vandana rolled her eyes.

For what felt like the thousandth time, she genuinely wondered whether her baby had somehow been exchanged at the hospital after birth.

Meanwhile, Ishaan quietly finished his breakfast.

After washing his hands in the kitchen, he picked up both his and Laksh's lunch boxes along with their water bottles.

Returning to the dining area, he neatly packed his own lunch box and water bottle before helping Laksh with his as well.

The moment he opened Laksh's lunch compartment...

...he froze.

Chocolate wrappers.

Chips packets.

More wrappers.

He silently questioned every decision that had led to Laksh becoming his brother before throwing everything into the dustbin and placing the lunch box inside.

Next came the water bottle.

He tried sliding it into the side pocket.

It didn't fit.

He tried the other side.

Same result.

Sighing softly, he slipped his hand inside the pocket to check what was blocking it.

He pulled out...

...more chips packets.

Pencil shavings.

And...

...a serum face mask packet.

Not a single person reacted.

Except Isha.

She glanced at the pile of rubbish before looking at Laksh with an amused smile.

Laksh simply shrugged and stuffed the remaining paratha into his mouth as though this was perfectly normal.

Ishaan quietly threw everything into the dustbin before finally fitting the water bottle into the now-empty pocket.

He adjusted his school bag over his shoulders and calmly said,

"Let's go, Laksh."

His eyes briefly met his mother's-a silent goodbye.

Laksh nodded.

Then, believing no one was watching, casually wiped his greasy hands on the dining room curtains.

Ishaan noticed.

Of course he noticed.

But...

...it was Laksh.

He chose peace.

The brothers stepped out of the house and walked through the colony together.

Once they reached the main road, they hailed a taxi.

Their school bus would start picking them up from the next day onwards.

Throughout the ride, Ishaan quietly stared out of the window, wondering how his first day at the new school would unfold.

Beside him...

Laksh continued talking non-stop about the new face cream he had ordered online the previous night.

His biggest concern at the moment?

He was convinced he had accidentally entered the wrong PIN code while placing the order.

Ishaan listened silently.

Or rather...

...pretended to.

It was the beginning of a brand-new chapter in both their lives.

They expected nothing more than an ordinary first day at a new school.

Little did they know...

...destiny had already begun writing a completely different story for them.

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