Jaisingh Enterprises-Mumbai

The glass-walled corner office of Jaishingh Enterprises towered above the restless city of Mumbai, but inside, order reigned with an unshakable calm. The air carried the quiet hum of authority, centered around the man at the massive mahogany desk — Arnav Jaishingh. With his sleeves rolled up and eyes sharp as steel, he flipped through project reports, his focus so intense that even the ticking of the clock seemed to bow in silence. To outsiders, Arnav was the perfect embodiment of power — precise, unyielding, and intimidating enough to silence a room with just a glance. 

Yet, beneath that stern exterior lived a brother who carried more than the weight of his empire. His phone buzzed once, flashing Maan's message: "Rounds done. Will grab something quick and head home. Don't stress." For a fleeting second, the edge of his expression softened, the faintest trace of pride flickering across his features. He typed a curt reply — "Proud of you." — the kind of reassurance only Maan would understand. Almost immediately, another notification lit up: Chutki's panicked emojis about an upcoming college presentation. Arnav let out the smallest sigh, his fingers gliding over the screen with quiet patience as he sent her a few words to steady her nerves. 

Then, as though slipping back into armor, he set the phone aside and leaned into the file before him. To his staff, Arnav Jaishingh was a man carved of discipline and iron, the one no one dared to cross. But to his siblings, he was the silent pillar who stood tall between them and the world, never once letting them glimpse the cracks that loneliness sometimes etched beneath his unbreakable façade.

City General Institute and Hospital-Mumbai

The hospital bustled like a storm. Stretchers rolled past, monitors beeped in uneven rhythms, and nurses darted across corridors with files clutched tight. In the middle of it all, Abhimaan Jaishingh adjusted his stethoscope nervously, clutching his case sheet tighter than he should have. He wasn't a doctor yet — just a second-year student on his clinical postings — but the rush of the ward made his heartbeat race like he was already in battle.

"Jaishingh, bed seven — note the vitals and update me," a senior resident called, barely slowing down.

"Yes, sir!" Abhimaan replied, voice firm though his hands were clammy. He moved quickly, scribbling readings, watching the monitor blink furiously. He wasn't treating patients yet, not really — but here he was, learning in the thick of chaos.

It had been hours since he last ate, hours since he even remembered to sip water. Still, the adrenaline kept him going. As he left the ICU, his phone buzzed in his pocket. With one hand, he typed quickly, almost on instinct:

"Rounds done. Will grab something quick and head home. Don't stress."

He knew Arnav would be buried in his office, locked in back-to-back meetings, but also worrying whether his younger siblings had eaten. That was Arnav — protector to the core. And so, Maan lied a little, made it sound like he was taking care of himself. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he pocketed the phone. At least this way, bhaiya wouldn't frown like a general catching his soldier sneaking out of line.

Aureus Institute of Business Studies (AIBS)-Mumbai

The lecture hall finally emptied with the sound of scraping chairs and sighs of relief.   Anvi Jaishingh, her pen still twirling in her fingers, leaned back with a groan. The professor's parting words rang in her head — another presentation, another weight piled onto the mountain of assignments she was already buried under. Business studies was no easy field; deadlines, group projects, case analyses — it felt endless.

Her friends tugged her along to the canteen, where the chatter of students, clinking of plates, and smell of samosas filled the air. Sliding into a seat, Anvi pulled out her phone almost instinctively. Her thumbs flew across the screen, her expression softening.

"Chutki here! Going to eat 🍴🤭 ... also, ughh another presentation dumped on me 😭📚 but don't you dare skip food, bhaiya 😡 work can wait, food can't! Otherwise I won't talk to you!! 🤨😤"

She hit send with a decisive tap, a little smirk tugging at her lips. Only with Arnav could she be both the pampered princess and the nagging little guardian in the same breath.

Her friends were already laughing at some inside joke, and Anvi joined in, slipping her phone back into her bag. But even as she laughed, the weight of responsibilities pressed at her again. Still, somewhere in the middle of the chaos, her heart felt lighter knowing she had done her bit to make sure her bhaiya ate — because in her eyes, nothing was more important than that.

Sehgal Nivaas, Sitara

The clock had just struck two when the school bell brought Parth and Aarush home. In the grand dining room of Sehgal Nivaas, Parth sat comfortably at the table, his schoolbag tossed carelessly on a chair. A lavish spread of freshly cooked vegetables, steaming dal, and soft rotis awaited him. Prerna Sehgal, her voice unusually soft, stroked his hair with affection as he ate.

"Parth beta, work hard in your studies," she murmured with pride. "Make us proud. You are our hope, our future."

Parth smiled faintly at her words, busy chewing another mouthful, while his mother's eyes glowed with adoration.

But just a few steps away, in the same house, an altogether different scene unfolded. Avyuktha and Aarush sat on the floor in a corner of the corridor, their small steel plate balanced on Avyuktha's lap. Inside it lay nothing more than a handful of plain rice, a pinch of salt, and some water to soften each morsel.

Avyuktha held the plate carefully and, with her thin fingers, fed Aarush bite by bite. The little boy ate quietly, too young to question why his plate never matched the one laid out for Parth. Yet the hunger in his eyes betrayed him — the meager rice could never fill his tiny stomach.

Avyuktha's heart twisted, but she smiled gently at him, hiding her own gnawing emptiness. "Bas, Aarush... eat slowly, or you'll choke," she whispered, stroking his hair as if that could fill the hollowness in his belly.

When the last grain was gone, she set the plate aside. Not once had she lifted a morsel to her own mouth. Standing up quietly, she took the empty plate to the kitchen sink and began washing the family's utensils, her frail body moving on autopilot. Her stomach ached, but she had long since learned to silence its protests.

Later, when the hunger clawed too deep, she walked to the earthen pot in the corner, poured herself a glass of water, and drank slowly until the hollow ache dulled. It wasn't food, but it was enough to keep her on her feet. She didn't dare ask for more.

For Prerna, Avyuktha was just a burden. But for Aarush, she was both mother and sister — giving away her share so that his little stomach might feel a little less empty.

Night in Mumbai, Jaisingh Mansion

The clock read 8:00 PM when Arnav Jaisingh finally stepped into the house, the faint hum of the city outside mingling with the quiet warmth of his mansion. Anvi wasn't far behind, immediately following him as he entered , buzzing with the day's excitement. The kitchen smelled faintly of spices as Arnav began preparing dinner, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables echoing through the room.

Anvi hopped onto the counter, her eyes sparkling with childlike excitement as she leaned toward Arnav. "Bhaiya! Today was... oh my god, it was so hectic!" she began, her hands waving animatedly. "Starting off, the khadoos professor gave us one more assignment — can you believe it? 😩 And then we went to the cafeteria, but my favourite pastry was already finished! I was so sad, bhaiya! Then we moved on to the next class... and there also, sir was teaching so much... like seriously, I couldn't keep up! 😵"

She paused for a breath, her words tumbling out faster than she could stop them. "But then — oh bhaiya, this is the best part — Sam and I... we... we bunked the last class! 😳 And we had sooo much fun! We talked and gossiped about everything, bhaiya! I really enjoyed it, it was just amazing!"

Arnav's smile faltered, slowly hardening into a glare.

Anvi froze mid-sentence. "B-bhaiya..." she whispered, hopping off the counter quickly to maintain a safe distance.

But Arnav didn't relent. He switched off the gas in a swift motion and, before she could react, grabbed her ear and twisted it harshly.

"Ahhh! Bhaiya! Sorry! Please, chhoro... chhoro, pleaseee aahhh..." she shrieked, tears threatening to spill.

"College padhne jaati ho ya timepass karne?" Arnav's voice was sharp, unyielding. "Phir semester exams mein marks kam aate hai toh baith ke do-do ghante roti rehti ho! kyun bunk kiya, huh?" His hand didn't leave her ear.

"B-bhaiya, vo sir... sir acha nahi padhate, isliye... bunk liya..." Anvi's voice cracked, tears welling up.

Arnav's eyes softened slightly at the sight of her tears, and he let go of her ear. Anvi quickly rubbed it, wincing, and took a small step back.

"Sir acha nahi padhate ya assignment pending hai?" Arnav raised an eyebrow, his tone still firm but curious.

"Assignment pending tha... bhaiya, sorry! Isliye bunk kiya," Anvi hurriedly explained, taking a few more steps back, guilt and fear mingling in her wide eyes.

Before Arnav could move further, Maan entered the kitchen, his usual cheerful energy a stark contrast to the tension. He hugged both Arnav and Anvi in a bright, innocent manner. "Good evening!.....Kya hua?" he asked, his eyes flicking to Anvi's wet cheeks.

Arnav's glare shifted toward Maan. He checked his watch — 8:15 PM. "Tum keh rahe the 8 baje pe nikal rahe ho... distance hospital se 30 minute hai. Matlab..." Arnav's lips tightened as realization hit.

Maan's cheerful face froze. "Bhaiya..."

Before he could explain further, Arnav smacked Maan's hand hard.

"Aahh! Kya hua? Mujhe kyun maar rahe ho?" Maan shrieked, rubbing his hand.

Arnav took slow, deliberate steps toward him. Maan instinctively stepped back, his eyes wide at the dangerous glare of his bhaiya.

"Tell me... at what speed did you drive here?" Arnav's voice was low, sharp, and trembling with controlled anger.

Maan's face went pale. He muttered an almost inaudible, "Sorry..."

Arnav's glare deepened. Swiftly, he grabbed Maan's ear, twisting it harshly. "Nahi! Ye mera sawaal nahi tha! Maine poocha — kitni speed mein aaye ho yaha pe?"

Maan shrieked again, pain and fear overtaking him. His voice trembled as he whispered, "100..."

As the word "100" fell into Arnav's ears, he quickly delivered three consequent smacks on Maan's back.

"Aahhh! Bhaiya! Aahhh!" Maan shrieked in pain.

Anvi's eyes widened, tears threatening to spill.

"Sorry, bhaiya! Sorry!" Maan uttered, his voice trembling.

Arnav, however, took a step back, glared at both Anvi and Maan, and without a word, turned his face back and walked toward the kitchen. His jaw was clenched, eyes burning with anger, yet he continued preparing dinner with a controlled intensity.

Anvi slowly approached Maan and rubbed his shoulders and back, easing the pain. Tears glistened in her eyes. "Bhaiyu... jyada dard ho raha hai?" she asked softly.

Maan blinked away his own tears and forced a small, gentle smile. "Nhi... nhi ho raha..." he replied, though he knew his back was burning from the intensity of the smacks.

Then he added, a little hesitantly, "Bhaiya... tere pe kyu naraz hai, princess?"

Anvi's head drooped slightly. "Bhaiyu... maine class bunk kiya... aur poora lecture cafeteria mein Sam ke saath hi bitaya, baat baat mai maine bhaiya ko bata diya aur jooth bol diya ki sir acha nhi padhate lakin bhaiya ne parak liya ki mere assignment nhi complete the..." she confessed, her voice small and guilty.

Maan let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Ek toh kand karti hai, phir khud hi kand bata bhi deti hai... Bhai, ekdum tubelight hai yaar tu toh," he muttered, half amused, half exasperated.

Anvi's eyes narrowed, offended. "Aap bhi toh kam nahi ho, bhaiyu... Jab bhaiya itni baar mana karte hain, tab bhi overspeeding kyun karni hoti hai aapko, huh?"

Anvi's voice was half angry, half exasperated as she muttered, "Ekk toh pehle hi bhaiya aag jaise jal rahe the, upar se aapke overspeeding ke chakkar mein... seedha jwalamukhi ban gaye hai!"

Maan blinked and replied, "Toh kyu karti hai aisa tu, huh?"

"Aap bhi kyu krte ho overspeeding! Aapne hi unka gussa badha diya!" Anvi shot back, frustration clear in her tone.

Maan countered immediately, "Maine badha diya, lekin gussa dilaya toh tune hi na?"

"Aapne gussa badhaya!" Anvi retorted, crossing her arms.

"Nhi! Tune gussa badhaya!" Maan fired back.

"Aap ne!"

"Tu ne!"

"Aap ne!"

"Tu ne!"

"Aap ne!"

"Tu ne!"

A loud, commanding voice cut through their shouting. "ENOUGH!"

Arnav stared at them, jaw tight, eyes burning with authority. "Go to your room, freshen up, and meet at the dinner table in 15 minutes. A minute late, and you won't like the consequences."

They scurried away as soon as the words left Arnav's mouth. Fifteen minutes later, they silently took their seats at the dinner table. Viren sat at the head of the table. On his left was Arnav, quiet, still simmering with anger. Beside Arnav sat Abhimaan, and on Viren's right sat Anvi.

Anvi stared straight at her plate, quietly chugging her food, stealing glimpses of Arnav in between bites. But Arnav didn't even look at them, eating silently, his jaw still tight with unspoken frustration. Viren noticed the tension but remained silent, observing the scene.

After finishing quickly, Arnav placed his plate in the sink without a word and quietly went to his room.

Viren cleared his throat and asked gently, "Kya hua? Kyu gusse mein ho vo?"

Anvi and Maan looked at him, eyes pleading, guilt etched on their faces.

Maan spoke first, his voice small. "Anvi ne lecture bunk kiya... aur maine... maine thodi si overspeeding karke gaadi chalayi."

As the words left Maan's mouth, Viren's gaze hardened. Both children muttered, "Sorry..." in unison.

Viren let out a slow sigh, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Then, a faint chuckle escaped him. "Toh... aaj maar padegi usse," he said teasingly.

Maan pouted. "Already padd chuki..."

Anvi muttered slowly, "Mujhe bhi..."

Viren nodded, a small smile on his face. "Acha hua... tum log baato se toh sudharte ho nahi. Ab jao, manao usko. Aur aage se ye college bunk karna aur ye overspeeding karne ke baare mein mujhe pata chala, na, toh Arnav se pehle main maarunga tum dono ko. Samjhe?"

Both Maan and Anvi muttered a slow, "Sorry..."

Anvi looked up, her voice pleading. "Papa... please bacha lijiye... Bhaiya bahot gusse mein hai..."

Maan quickly added, "Please, papa... bacha lijiye aaj..."

Viren raised both hands and said firmly, "Jab galti karte waqt madad nahi mangi, toh manate waqt kyu mang rahe ho? Help... ab galti ki hai toh jao, manao bhi."

Seeing their faces fall, he softened slightly. "Acha... jao, tum log pehle manane ki koshish karo. Tab tak mai halwa bana deta hoon. Phir toh Maan hi jayega."

Instantly, both Anvi and Maan's faces lit up. They ran to him, hugging him tightly. "Thank youuuuu" they chorused.

Author's POV:

Viren Jaisingh was once a stony, guarded, angry, and distant man. But after his retirement, when Arnav took on the responsibility of the company, he began spending more time with his children. There remained a subtle awkwardness among Maan, Anvi, and Viren, and they were never as open with him as they were with Arnav. Yet, despite the distance, he had become their safety net — the one they could rely on when the lion roared aka arnav. Love between them was quietly strong, woven through discipline, care, and moments of laughter and relief.

Meanwhile at..

Sehgal Nivaas-Satara

It was night in Sitara, but the kitchen was alive with activity. Aarush sat on the floor, notebook open on the ground, small fingers wrapped around a pencil, eyes intensely focused as he tried to complete his homework. Meanwhile, Avyuktha was chopping vegetables, the raw milk put on the gas burner to boil.

"Jiji... ye question nahi ban raha, please bata do," Aarush called out, his voice small and pleading.

Avyuktha bent down, guiding him patiently. "Dekho, Aarush... pehle ye step karna hai, phir iske baad..." She explained slowly, pointing at the notebook.

Just then, the milk vessel began to bubble aggressively, warning that it was about to spill. Avyuktha straightened quickly, but a little milk had already overflowed. She grabbed a piece of cloth to mop it up before anyone could see.

Unfortunately, Prerna saw the spilled milk and immediately began her venomous trant " kya kiya ye? Teri himmat kaise hui doodh giraane ki? Haa? Teri himmat kaise hui?"

Avyuktha shivered, but when she saw Aarush's tear-stricken face, she quickly bent down to his level, grabbed his books, and said, "Aarush... baccha, room mein jao, mai aati hu. Jaldi jao, baccha please..." Her eyes pleaded, desperate.

As Aarush tried to leave, Prerna blocked him. "Kahan jayega? Ye bhi toh aaj seekh le ki galti ka kya nateeja hota hai," she spat, grabbing Avyuktha's hand and forcefully holding it in the steamy milk.

Aarush screamed, "Jiji! Jiji...!" crying and hiccuping uncontrollably.

Avyuktha's body shook, her eyes clenched in pain, but seeing Aarush's tears, she covered her mouth with one hand, trying to hold back her own screams.

"Please, mami! Chhodo, sorry! Galti ho gayi...please mami, sorry!" Aarush cried, sobbing.

Prerna's voice was cold and cutting. "Ab galti ki hai, toh saza toh milegi hi."

Aarush, terrified, ran to Pratik's room. Seeing him crying, Parth quickly asked, "Kya hua? Rho kyun rahe ho, Aarush?"

Between sobs, Aarush could only manage, "Jiji... jiji jal gayi..."

Parth scooped him up in his arms, running out with Pratik. They reached the kitchen just in time to see Prerna holding Avyuktha's hand in the steaming milk.

"Pagal ho gayi ho kya, Prerna? Bacchi ka haath kyun jala diya tumne?" Pratik shouted, grabbing Avyuktha's hand and running it under the tap.

Prerna's eyes blazed. "Doodh gira diya tha! Iss karamjali ne ek kaam thik se nahi kar sakti! Ye pata nahi kaha se mere sir pe aa gayi... kaash ye bhi apni awari maa ki tarah mar jaati, toh acha hota!"

As these words left Prerna's mouth, Pratik's hand shot out, slapping her across the face. Seething with anger, he yelled, "Bas! Bahot ho gaya! Kabse dekh raha hu tumhara pagalpan! Kyaa dikkat hai tumko... iss bacchi se kyun kisi aur ke gunaho ki saza isse de rahi ho?"

Prerna came out of her shock, pressing her hands against her burning cheek. As the realization dawned upon her—that Pratik had slapped her because of that girl—she burned with fury.

"Aapne... aapne iss najayaz ladki ke liye mujhe thappad maara?" she screamed, her voice echoing through the house.

Pratik's anger flared, his eyes bloodshot as he shouted back, "Haan! Kyunki tum pagal ho chuki ho! Tumhare andar insaaniyat bhi khatam ho chuki hai! Ek baraah saal ki bacchi ke saath aise pesh aa rahi ho... kya galti hai uski? Haan bolo, kya galti hai uski?"

Prerna's chest heaved with rage as she screamed, "Galti hai... galti hai uski ki vo apni maa ke kokh se paida hui! Uski galti hai ki vo itni manhoos hai ki uska baap usko apnane se mana kar diya! Saari galti ussi ki hai... kyunki vo ek najayaz aulaad hai!"

Her voice broke into venomous shrieks, each word sharper than a knife. "Aur iske andar uski maa ka hi awara khoon beh raha hai!Acha hota agar tere baap ne tujhe bhi maar diya hota"

Pratik's anger flared,he shouted "PRERNA, khabardaar jo aage kuch bola"

Prerna's face twisted with venom, spitting words like acid:

"Main chup nahi rahungi aaj! Isse bhi toh pata chale ki iski maa kaunsi do kaudi ki aurat thi, jisse iska baap phek ke chala gaya!"

Her voice grew colder, sharper, cutting through the room like a knife:

"Aarush ke janam ke baad, teri maa ko khoon ki zarurat thi... o negative! Aur tera baap bhi nahi aaya. Usne dekha tak nahi tumlogo ko, kyunki uske liye teri maa bas ek vaishya thi... vaishya!"

Avyuktha's world shattered in that instant. The ground beneath her seemed to vanish, and every breath felt like fire in her chest. But even as the cruel truth threatened to break her, the soft whimpers of Aarush pulled her back. Her heart, fragile yet fiercely protective, refused to crumble completely. She held him close, feeling his small body trembling, and whispered, "Shhh... sab theek hai, baccha, mai hoon na."

Quietly, holding Aarush tightly, she retreated to their room, masking her own despair behind the comforting embrace of the child who had been her entire world since the age of six.

......