Chapter 5: Ghar Ki Baat

I brought Neha to my parents’ bungalow—white paint gleaming, marigold petals at the threshold, the kitchen forever scented with hing and mustard oil. The yard overflowed with coriander, chillies, karela—my parents’ pride.

As we entered, Ma rushed to offer Neha nimbu paani, her gold bangles clinking. Dad thumped my back, grinning. “Sharma khandan ka chirag aa raha hai!” Even the neighbour’s maid had called to congratulate Ma, who basked in the gossip.

Ma fussed over Neha, piling pineapple into her bowl. “Beta, sour means ladka. When I carried you, I only wanted imli and nimbu.” Dad nodded, happy to believe.

Their joy turned to shock when they heard I’d given everything to Priya. Dad’s face darkened. Ma clutched her head. The air sizzled with tension. Dad slammed the table—“Ten years, not a single child, and she dares take everything?” He stomped to the door, Ma yelling, “Usne toh hadh kar di! Bilkul besharam hai!”

She rolled up her sleeves, ready to fight. I hurried to calm them, outlining my IPO plan. They grumbled, but relented—“All agreements are signed, but the divorce isn’t final. Agar ab kuch gadbad hui toh sab ulta ho jayega.”

Ma banged pots in protest, Dad shook his head. Neha and I exchanged exhausted, relieved glances.