context for some Local words used
Bhaiya-Brother
Babhi-sister law
Didi-Sister
Neta-Politician
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Stuti could feel the soft warmth of Shan's hand as they walked together through the bustling streets of Mumbai. It was her first time holding his hand, and she couldn't help but think of all the romantic stories she'd read. The classic tropes flooded her mind—the shy, innocent girl and the mysterious, brooding guy alone together, facing a journey that would change them both. The kind of stuff you find in love novels, where character development seemed almost guaranteed.
She squeezed his hand slightly, trying to be subtle about it, but her mind was running wild. I bet he's the kind of guy who'll need me to clean his room, maybe even use me as a free washing machine… she thought. I mean, after all, guys don't like cleaning, right?
But then, a flash of inspiration hit her. I'll be the ideal bride...That's how love works, right?My mom told me.. A girl is supposed to serve his husband.. I'll just embrace it all—even the cleaning... maybe. Love makes you do nice things, right? She grinned, feeling strangely empowered by her own thoughts.
What would a guy expect from his future wife, anyway? She mentally shrugged. I've never done any of that stuff before, but you learn things from those Instagram reels guys watch these days, right? The stuff about women needing to be nurturing and men needing to provide. Oh, and I must fix him... because guys are supposed to be these emotionless feeders who get lost in their own worlds... You know?A bald English boxer appears on my reels these days talking about the stuff guys apparently like.. I watched his podcasts just for this... She paused, a little flustered by the direction of her thoughts, and glanced up at Shan. He seemed lost in his own world, staring out at the city, deep in thought.
His eyes flickered briefly over the stark contrast between the towering skyscrapers of the rich and the slums below, tucked in the shadows of the massive buildings. The slums, a reminder of the world's inequalities, sprawled like a festering wound in the city's soul. Shan's expression darkened for a moment as he observed them. It's like they put these slums right in the middle of the city on purpose, he thought. Make everyone feel insecure, and force them to work harder out of jelousy... So that Politicians can increase their weight by Taxes of some Biopic again..
Stuti noticed the change in his demeanor and couldn't help but ask, "What's on your mind?"
Shan blinked, shaking off his thoughts. "Ah, it's nothing. We're almost there."
As they walked further, a young boy standing near a skyscraper caught their attention. His clothes were immaculate, perfectly pressed, but his gaunt face and underdeveloped physique told a different story. He looked malnourished, which made no sense considering his clothes. Stuti squinted, trying to figure it out.
Her mind worked quickly, deducing that there had to be a logical explanation for this. She wasn't just Stuti for no reason—her Sherlock Holmes brain kicked into overdrive. After a few moments of thinking, the pieces clicked together, and she had her answer.(Meanwhile I, the author intervend while watching the show with popcorns and said.. Give us a good show.. And gave her some powerups for the cinematic experience)
Without thinking, she grabbed Shan's black coat and draped it over her shoulders, suddenly feeling like the leading lady in a dramatic scene. The sunlight seemed to shine down on her as if the universe itself had decided to focus all its attention on her.
She pointed at the boy, her voice rising with an air of sudden clarity. "You were a victim of child labor, weren't you? Some foreign NGO must've helped free you from your cruel parents, right?"
The boy looked at her, shocked and confused. "No, it's not like that," he stammered.
Stuti, for a moment, thought she'd cracked the case, but Shan quickly intervened.
"That's not how you treat a kid," Shan said, his tone calm but firm. His words carried a quiet disappointment. "NGO's huh?? Neta's got Oral??
And if I help you a little, does that make me your slave?"
Stuti blinked, her face contorting in confusion as she tried to process the layers of sarcasm in his words. The scene had taken a sudden, unexpected turn, and she wasn't sure whether to laugh or be mortified.
Shan smiled to himself, watching her struggle to understand the joke. But he stayed silent, enjoying her bewilderment more than he cared to admit.
-'' What's that really about '' - I asked from the audience in the collaseum
The man who was holding the stage with his hands while trembling said-'' Seriously bro, Now we are comparing Politicians corruption to blow job??Even I can't censor that.. What a creativity''
-Shut up!! I wanted to make the audience think for a while.. You damn overworked help support guys..!! Your job is just to provide us with a platform!!
The audience collapsed into a laughter.. As if they realised the NGO joke now..
The curains open again with the story contuning further
Meanwhile, the boy tugged at Stuti's saree and asked with innocent curiosity, "Are you Bhaiya's girlfriend? Should we call you Didi?"
Stuti's face flushed. She tried to regain her composure, but it was hard to act mature when the situation was so absurd.
"My name's Stuti. What's yours?" she asked, trying to sound confident.
The boy smiled widely. "I'm Abhi. Bhaiya told us about you! You're really pretty. No wonder his resolve to stay a celibate finally broke! We'll have a Babhi soon!"
He shouted toward the other kids in the tower, calling them out to witness this new development.
Suddenly, a chorus of excited little voices rang out, "Babhi! Babhi!" as the kids surrounded her, giggling and pointing.
Stuti, completely flustered now, turned to Shan, who had his hands over his face, trying desperately to hide his embarrassment.
She looked around at the growing group of children, and in the chaos of it all, her mind wandered to the concept of an Indian wedding. The extravagant, beautiful madness of it all. Imagine all the kids... future children… I have to survive the apocalypse for them, right? Her mind whirred. She couldn't help but imagine what the future might hold. But for now, she needed to snap herself back to the present.
She started slapping her face gently, trying to wake up from her overactive thoughts. But when she looked up, she found herself surrounded by hundreds of little kids, all calling her "Babhi."
"Uh... What... what do you want?" she stammered, trying to keep her composure.
"They're my family," Shan explained with a wry smile. "And I'm the babysitter."
Stuti's eyes widened as they scanned the walls of the slum tower around them. Photos of Shan, as a kid, surrounded by other children—some of them smiling, others looking weary. His life here had been different, far different from the pristine world she had imagined for herself.
Then it hit her. He really was a Slumdog Millionaire.
As they moved through the crowded building, Stuti couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Shan wasn't just some boy from the slums. He was a fighter, a survivor... He really didn't fitted in those cliches of That bald guy from Romania who was caught.. But neither it felt not manly.. This was it..!! So does she thought..
-'' Whats this feeling, I feel as if the world is shaking.. Is this what they call love - She thought to herself''
Out of nowhere, kids started to shout disturbing the meditative love of her...' 'An earthquake' '! - They chanted