“There’s a bomb! It’s about to explode! Run!!!”

A sudden scream pierced the air behind her.

Startled, Nandini spun around, her calm nature rattled in an instant. Instinctively, she clasped both hands over her ears and crouched in the corner of the narrow street, her breath quick and shallow. She had always been terrified of loud, sudden noises—bombs, firecrackers, anything that shattered the silence like that.

And then, laughter.

Behind her.

Confused and trembling, she slowly turned to find two young men doubled over, clutching their stomachs in fits of laughter—Naveen and Mahesh.

“Navi…?” she breathed, eyes wide with disbelief.

He was supposed to be away. On duty. Not even due for leave. And yet—he stood there, grinning like a mischievous child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Laughing, Naveen stepped forward and enveloped his shocked sister in a warm, tight hug.

“You’re really here?” she asked, reaching up with trembling fingers to trace his familiar, smiling face, just to be sure.

“Of course I am, Di!” he said, still chuckling.

Her smile broke through the fear at last, and she lightly smacked the back of his head. The three of them—Nandini, Naveen, and Mahesh—walked down the lane toward home, teasing and laughing all the way, as if nothing had changed, as if war and worry and waiting didn’t exist.

When they reached the house, they crept in like burglars. First Naveen, then Mahesh, and finally Nandini, all tiptoeing through the front door.

Rani Devi, their mother, was seated in the verandah, sorting grains and chatting with someone inside.

“It’s been a whole week,” she was saying, her voice tinged with worry. “Not a single call from Navi.”

“He must’ve called Nanda. He always does,” came a voice from inside—their father, no doubt.

“No, he didn’t call her either. I asked her this morning.”

“It’s probably a network issue. Even here, signal comes and goes. I’ll try him this evening.”

“Try him now! Evening will be too late,” she snapped.

And then—

“Shall I intervene, dear Maa, and help you talk to your son since your husband clearly won’t?”

Naveen’s voice echoed like thunder in the quiet house.

“Navi!” Rani Devi gasped, both hands flying to her cheeks in astonishment.

Mohan Pandey, his father, appeared from inside, newspaper in hand. Upon seeing his son, he let out a hearty, joyous laugh.

Naveen stepped forward and pulled his stunned mother into another hug. Her body was stiff at first—shocked—but then she melted into the embrace.

The house, once quiet and ordinary, was now alive with joy.

Mahesh was invited to stay for lunch—of course. No guest ever left the Pandey house unfed; the entire village knew that.

Later, while they all sat on the floor eating, Nandini ladled ghee onto a hot chapati on Naveen’s plate and asked, “You’re staying for a month this time, right?”

He shook his head. “Just a week. But I’ll take a whole month off for your wedding. Right now, I’m just here to finalize the date and head back. Speaking of which… when are you introducing me to my future brother-in-law?” he teased with a wink.

“How would I know?” Nandini retorted with a glare.

“Don’t bother asking her,” Rani Devi said with a sigh, cutting in. “Ask your future brother-in-law yourself. This girl won’t tell you anything.”

“Why?” Naveen frowned.

“She hasn’t spoken to him even once! It’s been ten days since the engagement. Not one call, not even a hello. And it’s not like we’re conservative parents! She just… doesn’t open up. I don’t know when she’ll learn to actually talk to people about her feelings.”

Nandini glanced helplessly at her father.

“Wait—what?!” Naveen exclaimed. “You haven’t even spoken to him once?”

“She will,” Mohan ji interjected gently, ever the peacemaker. “Don’t gang up on my poor daughter.”

“You see, Baba?” Nandini threw up her hands. “Everyone’s just on my case today. I’ll talk when I feel like it!”

Rani Devi looked at her daughter with worry-lined eyes. “Nanda, this habit of staying quiet, of never expressing yourself… It’s going to hurt you someday. You’ll have to blend in, especially with in-laws. And your husband. You can't live your life like an island.”

She had said it before. A hundred times. But Nandini simply never learned how to voice her feelings. She was always the giver—quietly doing things for others, never expecting anything in return. And perhaps never even noticing whether she received anything back.

Her family loved her dearly. She was cherished. Respected. But the worry lingered—how would such a deeply introverted girl fare in a world that demanded expression?

Nandini was growing irritable now.

“She’ll manage just fine,” her father said gently, standing firm in his daughter’s defense. “She speaks when it’s needed—and knows what to say, when. She’ll be okay.”

Naveen smiled through all this banter. How deeply he had missed it all—the noise, the chaos, the laughter.

“So… you know what happened today?” he said with a grin.

Everyone looked at him.

“What?”

“You won’t believe how carefree our dear Teacher Didi was, walking down the road without a care in the world.”

Mahesh burst out laughing.

Nandini’s face fell. She knew exactly where this was going.

“I’m done eating. Not talking to anyone now,” she muttered and stormed off to the kitchen.

“What happened?” Mohandas ji asked, glancing at his retreating daughter.

Naveen peeked through the kitchen window. She was still standing there, pretending to look outside.

He couldn’t resist.

“So, there she was—Teacher Di—strolling like a poet lost in thought. So Mahesh and I decided to have a little fun. We yelled, ‘There’s a bomb! Run!!!’”

He shouted the last part so loudly that both parents clutched their chests.

“Are you trying to give us a heart attack?” Rani Devi cried, eyes wide.

“She scared me too!” Nandini shouted from the kitchen.

“And you know what she did next?” Naveen continued, moving to the corner of the room, crouching with his hands over his ears just like she had.

“Navi!” Nandini shrieked from the kitchen.

But by now, the house was ringing with laughter.

“She’s a teacher, not a soldier,” Mohandas ji said between chuckles. “You can’t expect her to stand tall at the mention of a bomb!”

“Then why does she threaten soldiers like us?”

“Threaten? Who did she threaten?” Mohan ji raised an eyebrow.

Naveen stood tall, like an actor about to deliver the punchline. “Listen carefully, one and all! Our mighty Nandini Pandey, who turned into a trembling kitten at the mention of a bomb, threatens our company commander—the one and only Great Sangram Singh Sanger! For him, bombs are like mosquitoes. And yet, Di here talks like she’s going to scold him into submission!”

Naveen was roaring with laughter, and Nandini was glaring like a lioness ready to pounce.

She stormed out of the kitchen, tying her sari tightly at the waist like a warrior preparing for battle.

“That’s the one, right?” Mohan ji asked, a bit surprised. “Your senior? Major Sangram Singh Sanger?”

Everyone in the house knew of him—years of Naveen’s stories had made sure of it.

“No, not just senior. He is super duper senior” Naveen grinned. “and he’s not just senior to me by rank—he’s older, wiser, and will one day slap me straight from Kashmir to Nariyapur, thanks to your daughter's temper.”

“I’ll slap you straight out of this house today!” she shouted, grabbing a broom like a sword.

“You’re only decent when you’re on the phone. The moment you’re home, you forget how to talk to your elder sister, you insolent brat!” Nandini roared.

Naveen bolted, laughing all the way.

“Be careful! You’ll both fall!” Mohan ji chuckled, but it was no use. The great sibling war had begun.

And just like that, the house once again came alive—with love, with chaos, with laughter echoing through every wall.