Bani and Manu finally reached home by taxi. Manu carried the pizza boxes carefully while Bani handled the printer box. When they entered the house and removed their shoes near the door, they noticed that their father was already back from the restaurant.
It was still the first day of the restaurant's opening, so he had closed a little early after observing how the market responded. He was sitting in the hall and talking with Bani's mother while having a glass of water.
Their father looked a little tired but there was a clear satisfaction on his face.
As soon as Bani and Manu entered, Manu ran ahead happily.
"What happened, Appa? How was the restaurant today?" Bani asked while placing the printer box near the wall.
Her father smiled slightly.
"The response was good," he said. "Many customers came to try the food. Some were tourists, some nearby residents. They especially liked the dosa and vada."
Bani felt relieved hearing that.
He then continued explaining what he had observed.
"For now we prepared limited batter and items just to test the demand. It is the first day, so we should not waste ingredients. But from tomorrow, we will slowly increase the kitchen preparation."
He was discussing with Bani's mother how to handle the next few days.
"For one week we will observe carefully," he said. "Every day we will increase the preparation a little depending on what customers order the most."
Her mother nodded in agreement.
"That way nothing will be wasted and we will understand the demand properly," she added.
Bani listened quietly and felt proud. Her father already had experience running a hotel before, so he understood how to grow the business step by step instead of rushing.
Just then Manu placed the pizza boxes on the table and said with excitement,
"We brought pizza!"
Everyone looked at the boxes for a moment, slightly surprised.
Bani quickly explained with a small smile, "We thought we could share it together."
As the pizza boxes were opened, the warm aroma of melted cheese and spices filled the room. Bani, Manu, her mother, and her father began sharing the slices, laughing and chatting about the first day of the restaurant.
But her grandmother froze for a moment. She looked at the pizza with wide eyes, holding a slice in her hand. This was the first time she had ever tried pizza, and the unfamiliar sight made her slightly anxious.
"This… this is… no curry?" she exclaimed in her strong, surprised voice, waving the slice. "You haven't even provided any sambar or dal with this! How can we eat like this?"
The sudden outburst made the whole family burst into laughter. Bani's father chuckled and put a reassuring hand on his mother's shoulder.
"Amma," he said, smiling patiently, "this is called pizza. It's a kind of bread with vegetables, cheese, and spices on top. You eat it like this. It doesn't need sambar or dal or curry."
Her grandmother looked skeptical but took a small bite anyway. Her eyes widened as the cheese stretched and melted in her mouth, and the flavors of tomato, capsicum, and spices hit her taste buds.
"Hmm… oh! So this is pizza?" she said slowly, still a little cautious but clearly intrigued.
Bani's father nodded. "Yes, Amma. It's something different. Everyone enjoys it.
Her grandmother took another bite, a small smile forming on her lips. Manu watched eagerly, encouraging her, and even Bani's mother laughed softly, seeing her own mother exploring something new.
By the end of the meal, her grandmother had finished more than half a slice, still marveling quietly at the taste. It was a small, funny moment.
After finishing the pizza, the family settled down for their actual dinner, which Bani's mother had prepared carefully—rice, sambar, vegetables, and a few side dishes. Everyone ate quietly, enjoying the home-cooked meal after the excitement of the day.
Once the plates were cleared, Bani looked at her parents and Manu with a serious expression.
"Amma, Appa, Manu," she began gently, "I have some work I need to take care of in the US. I'll be leaving in three days."
Her mother paused mid-bite, slightly surprised, while Manu's eyes widened.
Bani continued, calmly but firmly, "It's important work for my career. I'll be gone for a short while.
Bani leaned back slightly, feeling that while the upcoming trip would be a change, it was a necessary step for her personal growth and career goals.
For the rest of the dinner, they ate in a comfortable silence, each thinking about the coming days in their own way, while Bani mentally planned the preparations she would need before leaving for the US.
After dinner, Bani carefully carried the printer box to her room. She set it down, unpacked it, and connected it to her primary laptop, the one she used exclusively for her work.
She looked around her room, satisfied with the little workspace she had set up. The printer was now ready for printing scripts, documents, and company-related papers, all in the safety and privacy of her room.
Bani had already been using two laptops. One was strictly for her work—scripts, business planning, and all sensitive files—while the other was available for family members to use if needed.
"This way," she thought to herself, "no one can accidentally delete or share my work. Everything important stays safe."
She carefully organized the printer setup, ensuring it had enough paper and ink for multiple prints. With everything in place, Bani could now work uninterrupted, printing and reviewing her scripts as she needed, while keeping her professional files completely separate from daily household use.
Bani finished setting up the printer and connected it to her laptop. After checking the connection once, she opened the folder where she had saved her work.
For a moment, she paused—looking at the file. It was the draft of the story and script she had been working on for days, late into the night.
Taking a quiet breath, she clicked print.
The printer came to life with a soft sound, and one by one, the pages began to slide out. Bani stood near the table, collecting them carefully as they printed. Each page held her thoughts, her planning, and the structure of a film she believed could become something big.
She arranged the pages neatly, aligning them properly and placing them in order—story first, then screenplay. Sitting down, she slowly flipped through them, reading a few sections again, making small corrections with a pen.
Holding the printed script in her hands felt different. It was no longer just something on a screen—it felt real, tangible, like the first step toward turning it into an actual film.
Bani placed the pages inside a folder and kept it safely in her drawer.