Farra meet Dalmakhni

Chapter : 2

Author's POV

By the time the clock crept close to four-thirty, the day had begun to loosen its grip on the sky. The harsh afternoon sun softened into a warm , stretching long shadows across the school ground.

The school had allowed extra hours for the selected participants, and the field still breathed with tired footsteps, scattered kits, and boys ..

Treyaksh stood near the ground, sweat clinging to his hairline, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion settling deep in his bones. He clapped his hands once, loudly enough to pull everyone's attention toward him.

"Everyone here," he called out. "Come on, gather in one place."

Slowly, reluctantly, the boys moved toward him some limping, some laughing weakly, some dropping down right where they stood because standing itself felt like a task. They took a breath, scanning their faces, then spoke again -

"You all can rest for half an hour," he said. "After that, we'll do one full hour of individual batting practice. Then you're free to go home."

For a second, nobody reacted.

And then the ground practically collapsed.

Some boys dropped flat on the grass like they had been released from prison. Others cheered softly, stretching their arms, a few even laughing in disbelief. The relief was visible, , floating in the air like a reward they had earned honestly.

Treyaksh watched them for a moment, a quiet smile tugging at his lips, before jogging toward the small corner near the boundary where the helper bhaiya usually stayed.

"Bhaiya," he said quickly, "please bring some refreshments for everyone. Anything light. They're exhausted."

The helper nodded immediately, already moving, and Treyaksh turned back toward the ground.

That's when he saw them.

Avyaan and Aarvik sat a little away from the others,, arms crossed tightly across their chests, faces turned deliberately cold . They didn't look at him. Not even once.

Treyaksh slowed his steps and walked toward them, stopping right in front of where they sat.

"You two," he said carefully, trying not to sound hurt, "are you really not going to talk to me?"

Avyaan didn't even lift his head. Instead, he leaned toward Aarvik and said loudly, "Aarvik... do you hear something?"

Aarvik played along instantly, eyes still fixed ahead. "What?"

"Sounds like a dog barking."

Aarvik nodded seriously. "Strange. I don't listen to dogs."

Treyaksh let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He crouched down in front of them, elbows resting on his knees, voice softer now.

"Come on, yaar. Why are you acting like this with me?" he said. "I'm doing all of this for the team. And yes, I push you two harder but that's because you know how it looks. The one who doesn't get selected tomorrow, they'll say I favored my friends."

Aarvik finally turned to look at him, eyes tired but sharp.

"So to protect your reputation, you make us suffer extra?" he said bluntly. "Nice. Very noble. Selfish, honestly."

That hit harder than any joke.

Treyaksh's face fell, his confidence cracking just enough to show what lay underneath.

"So... that's what I am now?" he asked quietly, his voice low, almost unsure. "Selfish?"

Avyaan looked at him then really looked.

He leaned closer to Aarvik and whispered, "Come on. Let it go. Forgive him."

Aarvik rolled his eyes dramatically. "This is pure drama, Drama queen."

Treyaksh heard that too. He straightened suddenly

"Okay, listen," he said quickly. "Talk to me. Please. I'll give you both one extra whatever bhaiya will being . And I'll tell my mom to make pani gujha for you both special promise."

That did it.

Both Avyaan and Aarvik turned toward him at the same time, studying his face, the seriousness behind the joke, the hope hiding in his eyes.

Finally, Aarvik sighed and said, "Not because of pani gujha. I'm forgiving you because you're my friend."

Avyaan laughed loudly. "Wow. Aarvik, you sold yourself for one samosa and one pani gujha."

Aarvik shot back instantly, "You sell yourself too."

And before Treyaksh could react, Aarvik lunged forward, throwing his arms around him and pulling him down onto the grass. Avyaan followed a second later, collapsing beside them with a tired groan.

They lay there, backs against the earth, staring at the sky slowly turning orange and blue, laughter mixing with silence, exhaustion blending into comfort.

Someone shouted from the far end of the ground, someone else burst into laughter over a bad joke, a whistle blew somewhere near the nets

That moment was broken warmly when helper bhaiya finally walked toward them, a large cardboard box balanced carefully in his arms. The faint, unmistakable smell of freshly fried samosas drifted through the air before anyone even saw what he was carrying.

"Arre bhaiya aa gaye!" someone yelled from the group nearby.

Bhaiya smiled, placing the box down and opening it, steam rising softly as he began distributing samosas to everyone, one by one, moving patiently across the ground like this small act of food was his quiet contribution to their tired happiness.

Treyaksh pushed himself up on his elbows and looked at the box, then glanced at Avyaan and Aarvik with mock seriousness. "See," he said lightly, pretending to clear his throat, "I did say something nice would happen if you talked to me."

Before he could finish the sentence, Aarvik smacked the back of his head not hard, just enough to shut him up and without a second thought, grabbed the entire box of samosas, pulling it toward himself like a dragon protecting treasure.

"Hey!" Treyaksh protested, sitting up fully now. "That's for everyone!"

Avyaan laughed so hard he had to bend forward, clutching his stomach. "Aarvik has officially lost it. This is what hunger does to a man."

Aarvik ignored them both, already grabbing one samosa and taking an exaggerated bite. "This," he said through a mouthful

Treyaksh snorted, reaching out to steal one from the box anyway. "You're impossible."

Soon, the three of them were sitting cross-legged on the grass, sharing samosas, teasing each other endlessly, deliberately taking bites from the same piece just to annoy one another , pushing shoulders, stealing food, and arguing over who had taken the bigger bite.

Between laughter and crumbs falling onto the grass, Treyaksh suddenly pulled out his phone. "Wait," he said, standing up slightly and walking a few steps away. "I need to call home."

Avyaan raised an eyebrow. "Already hungry again?"

Treyaksh ignored him and dialed quickly. The call barely rang once before it was answered.

"Mummy," he said instantly, his tone softer, familiar, lighter. "Listen, please make pani gujha today. We'll come back by eight."

From the other end, his mother's voice came through clear and decisive. "Okay. I'll send your sister to buy khoaa."(खोआ)

Before Treyaksh could even respond, she turned away from the phone and shouted loudly, "Kritiiiii! Get up, put the phone down, and go bring khoaa from the shop!"

Treyaksh froze for a second, then burst out laughing, holding the phone away from his ear. He didn't even get the chance to say goodbye before the call disconnected on its own.

He looked back at Avyaan and Aarvik, still smiling. "She didn't even let me finish."

Avyaan grinned. "Aunty doesn't play around."

They laughed again, easy and unguarded, the kind of laughter that didn't need reasons or explanations.

Back at Agrawal Haweli

The Agrawal Haweli came alive long before the boys returned, as it always did slowly,,

Treyaksh's mother, hands on her waist, eyes sparkling with a familiar mischief only elders who adored children ever carried.

"Children," she called out loudly, her voice reaching every corner of the haveli, "tell me honestly—do you want to eat pani gujha?"

For half a second, there was silence.

And then chaos.

"Haaaaa, chachi!"

"Yes, yes, tayiji—big mummy!"

"Please make it sweetuuu!"

"More filling for me!"

The younger kids jumped in excitement, the teenage ones pretended to be calm but failed miserably, and even the older cousins smiled knowingly, already imagining the taste.

From the inner courtyard, Treyaksh's chachi and tayiji walked in, drawn by the noise and the familiar excitement.

"So, bhabhi," chachi said with a teasing smile, adjusting her dupatta, "is this a pani gujha plan today?"

Treyaksh's mother nodded, already moving toward the kitchen. "It is," she replied simply, like it was the most natural decision in the world.

Without another word, the three women walked into the kitchen together, the heart of the haveli, where warmth didn't come just from the stove but from shared memories and practiced teamwork.

Rice flour was taken out, water was set to boil, and his tayiji began preparing the khoya mixture carefully crumbling the khoaa, adding sugar, mixing it with slow patience .

Meanwhile, outside, the haveli echoed with children shouting, laughing, chasing one another across the courtyard, their voices blending into something chaotic yet comforting.

Chachi stirred the boiling water and smiled softly. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "a house only feels like a home when it's filled with children's noise."

Treyaksh's mother laughed, nodding in agreement, while tayiji smiled quietly, her hands never stopping their work.

"Bhabhi," Treyaksh's mother said after a moment, "you two go ahead and prepare the dinner. Papa ji has given all the helpers the day off today. We'll all sit together and eat—family food, cooked by his bahus hands. You know the rule—Saturday and Sunday are for togetherness."

She paused, then added with a fond smile, "And Treyaksh is bringing his Changu-Mangu today."

Chachi laughed immediately. "Treyaksh and his Changu-Mangu," she repeated. "They've been together since childhood. It feels good seeing friendships last like that."

Treyaksh's mother shook her head, "Sometimes I feel he'll bring a son-in-law home instead of bahu ," she said dramatically. "

Tayiji burst into laughter. "Oh bhabhi!" she exclaimed, shaking her head, amusement written all over her face.

Soon, the kitchen returned to its rhythm. Hot water was slowly mixed into the rice flour, kneaded carefully until it formed a soft, sticky dough.

Treyaksh's mother shaped each gujhiya with practiced hands, filling them with the sweet khoaa mixture, sealing them gently as if each one held a little piece of her affection.

The stove burned steadily as the pani gujhas cooked, filling the air with a warm, comforting aroma that drifted through the haveli.

Once everything was set, she looked up and said softly, "Bhabhi, you go check on the children. I'll finish the sabzi."

Tayiji nodded and left the kitchen, her footsteps calm, unhurried.

By the time the clock crept toward eight-thirty, the haveli lights glowed warmly, the courtyard settled into quieter laughter, and just then, the front gate creaked open.

"Treyaksh aa gaya!" someone shouted.

Treyaksh walked in, tired but smiling, Avyaan and Aarvik beside him—his Changu and Mangu, just as promised.

Dust still clung to their shoes, hair slightly messy, faces carrying the exhaustion of the day and the comfort of belonging.

Before they could even say anything, Treyaksh's mother appeared, wiping her hands on her dupatta, eyes immediately softening at the sight of them.

"You're finally home," she said warmly. "Wash your hands quickly. The pani gujha is ready."

Avyaan looked at Aarvik, eyes lighting up. Aarvik grinned. Treyaksh smiled wider.

Thank you for reading !!