ADIRA’S POV

The moment I stepped into my room after school, dropping my bag carelessly near the chair and letting my body fall onto the bed l, I decided with full seriousness that nothing in this world mattered more than sleep at that moment —

“AADU— AGAR TU ABHI SOI NA…” my mother’s voice echoed sharply from outside, “…TO ITNA MARUNGI KI TERA BAAP BHI NAHI BACHA PAYEGA! DONO BAAP BETI AALSI HI PAIDA HUYE HO!” 

(Aadu, if you sleep right now, I’ll beat you so much that even your father won’t be able to save you! Both father and daughter were born lazy!)

I froze for a second , and then turned my head slowly toward the door .

“AAEEE MERAE PAPA KI PEHLI BIWI!” I shouted back instantly . “MERAE PAPA HAI WO, IZZAT SAE BAAT KARO— SHREE MAN IVU KE PAPA JI BOLO!”

(Hey! You my father’s first wife! He is my father, speak respectfully—call him Ivu’s Papa ji!)

There was a pause.

And then—

Footsteps.

I turned my head just in time to see her entering the room… with a belan in her hand.

For a split second, our eyes met.

And then I jumped.

Straight onto the bed.

“MAI PAPPA KO BATA DUNGI!” I yelled, scrambling backward, grabbing a pillow like it was some kind of shield.

(I’ll tell Papa!)

She didn’t even flinch.

“Tere papa khud mere paero mein rehte hain,” she said calmly, folding one arm while still holding the belan . “Kya kar lenge woh? Bata.”

(Your father himself lives at my feet, what will he even do? Tell me.)

“AAAAEEEEE!” I gasped dramatically, clutching my chest as if deeply offended. “MERAE PAPPA HAI WO! WO AAP JAISAE CHOTAE LOGO SAE BAAT NAHI KARTE!”

(He is my father! He doesn’t talk to people like you!)

Without waiting another second, I grabbed my phone.

“MAI ABHI PAPPA KO CALL KAR RAHI HOON!” I announced like a warning.

(I’m calling Papa right now!)

She simply leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms.

“Jii, papa ki pari… kariye call,” she said, almost smiling.

(Go ahead, Papa’s princess… make the call.)

I dialed immediately.

The moment the call connected—

“PAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAPAAA!” I shouted …

From the other side, his calm voice came —

“BOLO BACHA JI.”

(Yes, my child.)

I shot a look at my mom.

“Papap, apki pehli biwi bahut bol rahi hai,” I complained .

(Papa, your first wife is talking too much.)

There was a pause.

And then—

“Beta ji,” he said, voice steady, “wo pehli hai… aur aakhri bhi.”

(My dear, she is the first… and the last.)

My expression dropped.

Slowly.

My mother’s lips curved into a smile as she walked forward and snatched the phone from my hand.

“Matlab beech mein aur 2-4 biwiyan hain?” she said sharply.

(So there are two or three wives in between?)

“Kaesi baat kar rahi ho devi ji!” his tone instantly changed, defensive. “Aesi baat mat kijiye… main patnivrata purush hoon!”

(What are you saying, my dear! Don’t say such things… I am a devoted husband!)

My mom turned toward me with that look.

That I told you so look.

“Dekh liya apne SHREE SHREE PITASHREE ko?” she said smugly.

(Did you see your great father?)

I quickly grabbed the phone back, refusing to accept defeat.

“PAPAPAPAPAPPA!” I started again, pacing now . “AAP MUMMY JAESAE LOGO KO—”

(Papa! You are supporting people like Mom—)

But before I could even finish—

“Dekho beta ji,” he interrupted gently but firmly, “main aapke liye kuch bhi kar sakta hoon… lekin main apni devi ji ke charnon mein hoon.”

(Look, my child, I can do anything for you… but I live at your mother’s feet.)

And then—

The call ended.

I stared at my phone.

Then at my mom.

Then threw myself dramatically onto the bed.

“Huhhh… gande log,” I muttered under my breath, turning my face into the pillow.

(Ugh… disgusting people.)

My mom’s voice came again from the doorway—

“AADU, agar phone use karna hai toh ek ghanta use kar lae… phir tuition jaana hai. Aur haan—sona bilkul nahi.”

(Aadu, if you want to use your phone, you can for an hour… then go to tuition. And no sleeping at all.)

I didn’t even sit up, just hummed in response ..

The moment I unlocked it and tapped on Instagram—

My phone froze.

Lagged.

Notifications started flooding in like a storm.

“What the—” I whispered under my breath, sitting up abruptly, eyes widening as the screen kept loading and loading.

“HAYEEE… yeh group itna active kab se ho gaya?” I muttered ..

(What the—since when did this group become this active?)

I clicked on the group chat.

And paused.

“…Excuse me?”

“…ITNE LOG KAB ADD HO GAYE?”

(When did so many people get added?!)

Seven people typing.

At the same time.

My brain stopped processing.

“WTF…” I whispered

And without thinking—

I typed.

“ANDI MANDI SANDI… AGAR KOI KUCH LIKHA , MEREKO CHHOR KAR TO—”

(If anyone types anything … leaving me out, then—)

The moment the message was sent—

Typing indicators disappeared.

“…Good,” I whispered, satisfied.

Then typed again—

“AKHIR HO KYA RAHA HAI YAHA? ITNE LOG? SERIOUSLY? IVUUU, NISHUU— KYA KIYAE HO TUM DONO ?”

(What is even happening here? So many people? Seriously? Ivu, Nishu—what have you two done?)

A small reaction popped up in my msg .

Ivana: 🤐

My eyes widened.

“Oh shit…” I muttered, realizing my own mistake.

I quickly corrected myself—

“Ivu aur Nishu… tum dono type kar sakte ho.”

(Ivu and Nishu… you both are allowed to type.)

A second later—

Ivana replied.

“Treyaksh Bhaiya ne apne friends ko add kiya group mein… aur maine approve kar diya.”

(Treyaksh BHAIYA  added his friends to the group… and I approved it.)

I froze.

Then slowly inhaled.

“Yeh mandbuddhi log…” I muttered, fingers already moving again.

“ABEY ITNE LOG ADD NAHI KARNE THE GADHEDI! LEGIT 20 LOG ADD HAIN AUR SAB ACTIVE… INSAN TYPE KAISE KAREGA YAHA?!”

(Why did you add so many people, idiot! There are literally 20 people here and everyone is active… how is anyone supposed to even type here?!)

Ivana replied instantly—

“Tu hi toh kal raat bol rahi thi ki log add nahi hain.”

(You were the one saying last night that there aren’t enough people in the group.)

“Haan par iska matlab yeh thodi tha ki tu poora mela bula legi!”

(Yes, but that doesn’t mean you invite an entire fair into the group!)

Ivana: “Ab main nahi jaanti… Nishtha se baat kar.”

(Now I don’t know… talk to Nishtha.)

typed—

“Wo kahaan hai?”

(Where is she?)

Ivana replied—

“Soi hogi.”

(She must be sleeping.)

I stared at the screen for a second.

Then flopped back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling again.

“Yeh ladki…” I sighed . “Isko sone ke alawa kuch aata bhi hai kya?”

(This girl… does she even know anything other than sleeping?)

AUTHOR’S POV

Nishtha was in  dining area , helping her mother clear the table  ..

Only when everything was done, when the table looked neat and her mother nodded in approval, did she finally pick up her phone and slip into her room, closing the door gently behind her ..

She unlocked her phone.

Instagram opened.

Her main account stared back at her.

“…No,” she murmured , “I don’t even want to see those messages.”

So instead—

She switched.

Straight to her spam account.

And the moment the group chat opened—

Her eyes widened.

“Arey meri maiyya… itne messages?” she whispered, scrolling endlessly  ..

(Oh my God… so many messages?)

Her thumb slowed as she reached the latest texts.

Her brows furrowed.

“…Yahan kya merae upar kichad uchala ja raha hai?” she muttered ..

(Are they throwing mud at me here now?)

Without thinking twice, she started typing—

“IVANA, JUTE SE MARUNGI! MAIN GHAR KA KAAM KAR RAHI THI, SO NAHI RAHI THI!”

(Ivana, I’ll hit you with a slipper! I was doing housework, not sleeping!)

Ivana replied almost instantly—

“Teri galti.”

(Your fault.)

Nishtha scoffed lightly.

“Huh… gadhi kahi ki.”

(Stupid girl.)

Adira jumped in—

“Itne log kyu add kiye?”

(Why did you add so many people?)

Nishtha replied casually—

“Man kiya. Koi dikkat?”

(I felt like it. Any problem?)

A second later—

Adira again—

“NISSHHHTTHHHAAAA! MAR DUNGI TEREKO MAI!”

(Nishtha! I’ll kill you!)

Nishtha —

“With your beauty?”

(With your beauty?)

Adira replied instantly—

“BKL, flirt karna chhod aur logon ko group se nikaal!”

(Idiot, stop flirting and remove people from the group!)

Nishtha chuckled softly ..

“Jo hukum, mohatarma.”

(As you command, madam.)

“Jin jin ko group mein rehna hai, message par react karo.”

(Whoever wants to stay in the group, react to this message.)

For a second—

Nothing.

Then—

One reaction.

Pause.

Then another.

pause..

Then a third.

Ivana typed—

“Yeh Treyaksh bhaiya ke friends hi react kar rahe hain.”

(Only Treyaksh bhaiya’s friends are reacting.)

The typing indicator appeared again.

A new name.

Avyaanhuvyaamnai.

“Wo actually… mere paas teeno ki IDs hain.”

(Actually… I have access to all three IDs.)

There was a pause.

And then—

Ivana replied—

“VERY CHALAK BROOO.”

(Very smart, bro.)

Another message popped up—

“Yeh Treyaksh bhaiya kaun hai??”

(Who is this Trey aksh bhaiya??)

Ivana didn’t hesitate.

“HAMARA FUTURE JIJU.”

(Our future brother-in-law.)

There was a split second of silence.

And then—

Nishtha typed, teasing—

“Oooo… Adira ka future pati?”

(Oh… Adira’s future husband?)

Ivana added—

“Kya pata.”

(Who knows.)

And that—

Adira exploded.

“ABAE BKL! MERA KOI FUTURE PATI NAHI HAI! ITNA MARUNGI NA IVU—”

(Idiot! I don’t have any future husband! I’ll beat you so much, Ivu—)

A typing indicator appeared again—this time from a different account .

Frootipikarpatnisaepitunga — TREYAKSH

A pause.

Then—

“Hey guys….”

Before anyone else could even react properly—

Avyaan, being Avyaan, jumped in instantly.

“mera beta aagya”

( my son has arrived )

Within seconds—

Treyaksh replied.

“Beta tu jaha bhi hai ground mai aa, inspection ke liye coach aaraha hai aaj”

(wherever you are, come to the ground—the coach is coming for inspection today)

“Oo teri ki… aata mai,” Avyaan typed back quickly ..

NISHTHA’S POV

Bhai…

The moment that new name started typing, I don’t even know why—but my curiosity just… clicked.

Like automatically.

Without thinking twice, I tapped on the profile.

And then—

I froze for a second.

Then burst out laughing.

“Frootipikarpatnisaepitunga…?” I whispered under my breath ..

“KYA MAST BANDA HAI YAAR YAE ! ” I muttered, a soft laugh escaping again .

New account.

Private.

Two following.

Two followers.

There was something oddly funny about it, but also… something interesting.

I clicked back into the group chat.

Everyone was still talking.

Messages still flooding.

But my eyes went straight to that one name again.

Maybe just because… it made me laugh.

Without overthinking it, I started typing.

“Frootipikarpatnisaepitunga aapka username bada chatpata hai, I liked it”

CLIFFHANGER !!

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