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Akira Mehra ~

Ivaan’s dadi looks young. She is sixty-seven years old, yet her smile, her eyes, the way she speaks—everything about her makes her look beautiful, even with wrinkles resting gently on her face.

“Arey—vaah,” she smiled, her eyes moist as she looked at all of us.

(Oh my!)

“Dadiii… yeh sab mujhe tang karte hain, sabse zyada yeh chutki.”

(Dadi, they all trouble me—especially this Chutki.)

Ishvin whined like a baby, pointing at Kriti. She immediately hit his head lightly, making all of us laugh. Dadi caressed his head lovingly.

“Koi baat nahi, main chutki ko samjha dungi.”

(It’s okay, I’ll explain it to Chutki.)

Being in her arms felt warm, comforting, and peaceful. I had never felt this way with any elder before. “Akira…” she said, observing all of us. “Akira aapke peeche hai, dadi.”

(Akira is behind you, dadi.)

Ivaan walked toward us. I tapped her shoulder gently and grinned when she turned around and looked at me.

“Main hoon Akira… Akira Mehra. Aap jaanti ho mujhe?”

(I’m Akira… Akira Mehra. Do you know me?)

I wrapped my fingers softly around her arm.

She nodded affectionately. “Ivaan ne bataya tha. Shararti ho tum. Tumhare saath rehkar pehli baar usse akela mehsoos nahi hua.”

(Ivaan told me about you. You’re mischievous. Staying with you, he didn’t feel lonely for the first time.)

My heart melted at her words. I glanced at Ivaan.

Her eyes held emotions I couldn’t fully understand. Her hand rested gently on my head. I smiled, holding my tears back. “Ab kabhi akela nahi rahega. Hum sab uske saath hain.”

(He’ll never be alone now. We’re all with him.)

She looked at all of us seriously. “Tum sab kabhi usse akela mat chhodna. Mera baccha poori zindagi akela raha hai.” (Never leave him alone. My child has been lonely his entire life.)

Everyone turned serious, listening carefully.

“Dadi, aap bhi na,” Ivaan said softly.

“Chhodiye yeh sab. Chalo andar, main khana banata hoon.” He pulled her inside gently, ignoring the heavy topic she had started.

“Come inside, guys,” he said before entering the house. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

“I hope nothing really bad happened to him in the past.” Everyone nodded.

“We’ll deal with those boys,” Shaarav said.

I remembered how those three boys were still hiding, thinking they’d meet Ivaan alone. But we didn’t leave him for even a second.

“Bacho, andar aa jao…”

(Kids, come inside.)

We heard dadi call us. We walked in, admiring the simplicity of the house—minimal decorations, warmth everywhere. A framed photograph of dadi and Ivaan hung on the wall.

I noticed Ivaan wearing an apron.

“Ivaan, tum rehne do. Main karti hoon.”

(Ivaan, leave it. I’ll do it.)

“Why will you?” he replied.

“You sit with everyone. I’ll cook.”

“Hum sab madad karenge. Akele kuch nahi karoge.”

(We’ll all help. You won’t do this alone.)

I took the vegetables from him and placed them on a plate, picking up the knives. I walked out of the kitchen into the living room. I started giving everyone tasks.

“Aur main kya karungi?” dadi asked, showing her empty hands.

(And what will I do?)

I chuckled at her cute antics. “Aap toh rani ho, dadi. Raniyan thodi kaam karti hain.”, “Aur nahi toh kya,” Ishvin said, side-hugging her.

“Ab toh main buddhi ho gayi hoon,” dadi laughed.

(I’ve grown old now.)

“Nahi,” Riva said immediately.

“Aap abhi bhi sundar ho—hum sabse zyada sundar.”

“Aur nahi toh kya,” Aviraj added, blowing her a flying kiss.

“Abhi bhi ladke aapki sundarta dekh kar mar jaayenge.” I shook my head and turned around.

That’s when I saw Ivaan leaning against the kitchen wall.

He wasn’t smiling—but his face looked relaxed.

He was smiling.

Just not openly.

When he noticed me, he straightened up and went inside. I followed him.

“You can smile,” I said while preparing the dough.

“You don’t need to be scared to smile. No one will leave you now. At least—not me.”

I fluttered my lashes, reassuring him through my eyes.

“What if I try to leave?” he asked.

“I’ll find my way back to you again.”

“What are we?” he asked while rolling the dough.

“Friends,” I replied without thinking. “But you didn’t ask me to be your friend,” he said. A laugh slipped into the silence. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re so cute, aan,” I said softly, patting his cheek. Flour left a mark on his skin. “Everyone asks before becoming friends,” he complained, fixing my slipping glasses.

“Yeah, yeah. My fault,” I sighed.

“So will you be my friend? No—best friend.”

“Don’t you already have one?” he asked.

“Manya, Kriti, Riva?”

He looked like a child asking about something he’d never known. “We’re all friends,” I explained.

“Manya’s best friend is her boyfriend, Shaarav. Kriti and Riva met in middle school. Ishvin and Aviraj have known each other since they were babies. We all met later, and when they saw me alone, they let me join. I’ve never been alone after that.”

“Oh…” he nodded.

“So best friends?” I asked. “If you say yes, you’ll be stuck with me for life.”

“I’d love to get stuck with you,” he said, smiling as he placed the rolling pin aside.

Our hands touched—it was the first time.

“I’m your friend,” he corrected.

“Not best friend. Not yet.”

“Got it,” I smiled.

“No bestie for now.”

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Within half an hour, dinner was ready.

“Sit,” Ivaan said, gently pushing me down.

Everyone passed teasing looks, including dadi.

“I’ll help—”

“Beth jao,” he insisted.

“You must be tired. Ishvin and Aviraj will help.”

“Ah, Ivaan,” Ishvin whined.

“I’m just a baby. My little hands are hurting.”

“Disgusting,” Ivaan muttered, making everyone laugh.

As he served food, my eyes fell on dadi.

Her expression changed. She held Ishvin’s hands gently, noticing his bruised knuckles. Then she asked Shaarav and Aviraj to show theirs.

I looked at Ivaan. He silently shook his head at them.

“Ivaan, yahan aao.”

(Ivaan, come here.)

He placed the bowl down and showed her his arms.

“Kuch nahi hua, dadi.”

(Nothing happened.)

“Inko kaise lagi?” she asked, knowing something was wrong. “Sach nahi bataoge toh main khana nahi khaungi.”

(If you don’t tell the truth, I won’t eat.)

Tears filled her eyes.

“Akira, sach batao… woh ladke phir aaye the? Kya Unhone firse Ivaan par ilzaam lagya”

(Akira, tell me the truth. Those boys came again, didn’t they? Did they blame Ivaan again?)

Everyone rushed closer. “Dadi, mat ro,” Ivaan whispered, holding her shoulders.

“Yaad nahi? Unhone tumhe maar dalna tha agar police waqt par na aati.”

(Don’t you remember? They would’ve killed you if the police hadn’t come.)

Tears streamed down her face. “Mujhe kuch nahi hoga,” Ivaan said softly. “Yeh sab mere saath hain.”

I nodded, wiping my tears. “They didn’t let me fight. They couldn’t touch me.”

“Mere paas sirf tum ho,” she cried.

(You’re all I have.)

I held Ivaan’s bicep.

“I promise, dadi. Nothing will happen to him.”

“Pakka?”

(Promise?)

“Pakka.”

“Ahm-ahm, koi kisi ke har vakt sath rehna chahta hai” Ishvin teased.

Ivaan leaned close.

“Leave my arm, or everyone will tease you more.”

I let go immediately and coughed nervously. “Khana khate hain,” I muttered.

After a while, dadi smiled. “Waise… tum sab kisi ko date nahi kar rahe?” (So… none of you are dating?)

“Shaarav aur Manya,” Riva replied.

“Baaki sab single.”

“Akira bhi?”, “Ji, dadi.”

“Yeh toh apke pote ke liye ruki hai,” Ishvin said casually.

(She’s reserved for your grandson.)

Food got stuck in my throat. I felt a hand  rubbing my back gently. “Dhyaan se,” Ivaan scolded Ishvin, handing me water. “Feeling better?” he asked quietly.

“Do I need to teach you how to eat?” he sighed.

“You can feed her,” Ishvin teased.

“Ishvin!” I yelled.

Ivaan lo

oked at me, his hand still on my back.

“Do you want me to feed you, Akira?”

🐇🌷

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