Aadhya's POV
Finally! A two-week break. Goodbye, Section E monkeys; hello, sanity. For the past two days, the maids, Masi, and I have been in a literal war against dust. We scrubbed the house like we were preparing for a royal visit while Bhaiyya was "busy" with work (must be nice) and Reyansh was... well, I've been treating Reyansh like a ghost. Avoiding him is my new full-time job since the school gate disaster.Today is Laxmi Pooja, and the house actually looks magical. I was helping the maids fill the Rangoli with colors when Masi yelled from the kitchen, "Adi beta, come light the diyas! Don't let a single corner stay dark." I jumped up, washed the colors off my hands, and went on a mission to banish every shadow in the house. This night needs to glow like a literal sun.While I was placing lamps outside, my neighbor uncle called out, "Aadhya beta, Happy Diwali!"
I shot up like a rocket. "Happy Diwali! Where's my gift?" I asked, with the maximum level of innocence I could muster. He laughed and handed me a small box of sweets. My brain basically short-circuited with joy. I ripped it open—the laddus looked heavenly. I split one in half, stuffed half into Uncle's mouth, and shoved the other half into mine. "Aapko bhi Shubh Diwali!" I mumbled through a mouthful of sugar. Life was good for exactly five seconds.
"Aadhya, go get changed and call Amar and Reyansh for the Pooja!" Masi shouted.
I sprinted upstairs, dodging the diyas like a ninja. I knocked on Reyansh's locked door—"Get ready for Pooja!"—and kept moving. Then I reached Bhaiyya's room. The door was open, so I walked in and... wow. He was wearing this mustard yellow kurta and looked genuinely dashing. Who knew I shared DNA with a model?
"Bhaiyya, you're looking dashing!" I said, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
He stared at me for a beat, then slowly reached out and put his arm around my neck, nearly choking me in a brotherly "hug."
"How was your exam?" he asked, his voice dropping into that dangerous, low register.
ABORT MISSION. My brain screamed. I totally forgot he still had the "results" card to play.
"Bhaiyya, Masi is calling! We're late! Bye!" I blurted out and bolted before he could ask about my math score again.
I did a high-speed shower, threw on a red Anarkali kurta, dangling jhumkas, and a tiny bindi, hair open — looked like a festive queen. I walked downstairs where the boys were already waiting on the sofa. We did the Pooja, the Aarthi, and I practically inhaled the prasad offered to Goddess Lakshmi.Then came the real thrill: Crackers.
I lunged for the box of fireworks on the sofa, but suddenly, a hand clamped onto my ear.
"First, go and change into something light, idiot," Bhaiyya said, appearing out of thin air. "Unless you want to turn that fancy dress into a bonfire."
I looked at my flowing Anarkali and realized he was, unfortunately, right. I nodded instantly, and he let go. Reyansh didn't say a single word; he just gave me a look that I couldn't decipher and headed to his room. I didn't care—I sprinted upstairs, swapped the silk for a comfy t-shirt and pajamas, and flew back down. It's firework time, and nothing is standing between me and those sparklers!
I marched back down in my "battle-ready" pajamas and t-shirt, feeling much more like a human and less like a walking fire hazard. Masi had already joined the boys on the porch, looking so peaceful after the day's cleaning chaos. She even had a small plate of Kaju Katli and Ladoos in her hand because, apparently, we hadn't reached our sugar quota for the night yet."Adi, start with the sparklers first," Masi said, handing me a packet. "And don't run around like a maniac."
"I'm a professional, Masi," I joked, lighting one. The sparks started flying, and for a second, I forgot about exams, Section E, and the fact that Reyansh was still acting like a silent statue.Bhaiyya and Reyansh finally stood up from the sofa and joined us. Bhaiyya looked at the small pile of eco-friendly crackers I had picked out. "Only the small ones today," he said, sounding surprisingly calm. "The air pollution in the city is already bad enough; we don't need to add a thick blanket of smoke to it."
"Aw, Bhaiyya, since when did you become an environmentalist?" I teased.
He just smirked. "Since I realized I'm the one who has to pay for the nebulizer if you start wheezing."
Everything was going great. We were lighting ground spinners (Chakkis) and fountain crackers (Anars). Even Reyansh cracked a tiny smile when one of the spinners went rogue and chased his feet. But then, I saw it—the "Mega-Blast 5000" bomb. It was sitting at the bottom of the box, looking powerful and glorious.I grabbed it and a lighter, sneaking toward a clear spot. Time to make some real noise, I thought. But before the flame could even touch the wick, a hand—a very large, very firm hand—grabbed the back of my t-shirt.
"And where do you think you're going with that?" Bhaiyya's voice boomed right above my head. He snatched the bomb from my hand like I was a toddler with a forbidden toy."Bhaiyya! It's Diwali! Let me light just one!" I pleaded.
"Absolutely not," he snapped, putting the bomb back in the box and out of my reach. "This thing has enough gunpowder to take out a small village. Do you have any idea how dangerous these are for kids like you? One wrong move, one delayed fuse, and you're looking at a trip to the ER instead of a two-week vacation."I rolled my eyes. "I'm in 12th grade, Bhaiyya, not 1st!"
"You're in 12th grade and you still think you're invincible," he countered, flicking my forehead. "Wait until you're older. For now, stick to the sparklers and the 'flower pots.' I don't want to explain to the principal why you have fingers missing when the school reopens."
Reyansh finally walked over, holding out a plate. "Eat the Barfi and shut up, Aadhya," he said quietly. It wasn't an apology, but it was the most he'd said to me in days.
I took the sweet—it was melt-in-the-mouth perfect—and decided to call it a truce for the night.We spent the next hour just sitting there, watching the sky glow with distant fireworks while the smell of burnt gunpowder and sweet Ghee filled the air. Masi was laughing at one of Bhaiyya's rare jokes, and even though my "Big Bomb" dreams were crushed, sitting there with my annoying, protective, and dashing family felt... right....
Happy Diwali 🪔..