Chapter 21 (B) : Khaare Raaste - Part 2

A few days later, the atmosphere in the duplex had settled into a rare, comfortable warmth. It was a quiet night, and the three of them were gathered in Maysha’s room. The headboard propped up with pillows. In the center of the bed, the large TV mounted on the wall playing a lighthearted romantic comedy.

Between Maysha and the TV sat a large plate of chips, balanced precariously on the high, firm curve of her five-month bump. Ayush and Maan were flanking her, one on each side, reaching over occasionally to snag a chip while their eyes were glued to the screen.

Suddenly, the chip plate jumped.

Maysha let out a sharp "Ahh!" and her hands flew to the sides of her stomach to steady the plate and kept it aside.

"What? What’s wrong?" Ayush asked, his hand instantly moving toward her back. "Is it a cramp? Should we call Ishaan?"

Maan was already half-off the bed, looking for his slippers. "I think it's something alarming, I’m calling Dr. Sonal right now."

Maysha started to laugh, though she let out another small "Oh!" as her stomach rippled again. "Relax, you two! Put the phone down, Maan. It’s nothing to worry about... they are just kicking, first the one baby kicked and now I just experienced another one."

"Kicked?" Ayush whispered, his voice trembling with awe. "Already?"

"They are...ahhh...their tiny feet..oh" Maysha laughed, her eyes bright with tears.

She reached out, grabbing Ayush’s hand and placing it on the left side of her bump, then took Maan’s hand and pressed it firmly against the right. "There. Wait for it."

For a few seconds, nobody breathed. Then, a distinct, rhythmic thud pushed against Ayush’s palm. A second later, a sharper, more insistent poke met Maan’s fingers.

Both men let out a sharp, simultaneous gasp.

"Oh my god," Ayush gasped, his entire face lighting up with a massive, boyish grin. "I felt that! That was a real kick, Maysha! That’s strength right there. This one’s got some power—definitely a Luthra kick. He’s already got the legs of a defender!"

Maan’s fingers suddenly jerked as a sharper against her bump, more insistent pressure met his hand on the other side. His eyes widened, and a single, shaky breath escaped his lips. "Wait... did you feel that? Mine was definitely stronger, Ayush. That wasn't just a poke; that was a statement. This baby is clearly more active. Look at that force!"

"Stronger? Are you kidding?" Ayush countered, leaning over Maysha to look Maan in the eye. "The one on my side practically moved my hand. That’s pure athletic muscle developing. Your side was just a little flutter."

"A flutter?" Maan scoffed, his competitive streak rising despite the tears in his eyes. "My side was a solid strike. It was decisive. It’s obvious whose baby is going to be the powerhouse here."

"Oh, please," Ayush rolled his eyes. "Powerhouse? My side has the rhythm. Yours is just restless."

Maysha looked from one to the other, watching them turn a miraculous life-milestone into a playground argument. She let out a loud, dramatic sigh and crossed her arms.

"Shushhh!" she snapped, though a smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Seriously? Yahan pe alag hi comedy movie chal rahi hai (A completely different comedy movie is going on here). Should I just turn off the TV? Because you two are being way louder than the actors."

Maan and Ayush both froze, their hands still resting on her bump. They looked at her mock-stern expression and then at each other, looking completely sheepish.

"Sorry," they both muttered, settling back into their pillows like reprimanded children.

"Good," Maysha huffed, though she didn't move their hands away. "Now, stay quiet and watch the movie. The babies want to hear the movie, not your bickering over who’s baby is the strongest."

The two men settled back into the pillows, though they stayed closer to her than before. Maan kept his gaze fixed on the screen, but a small, proud smirk remained on his face. Ayush rested his arm behind her head, a soft look of wonder still lingering in his eyes.

They continued to watch the romantic comedy, but every time Maysha felt a little flutter, she saw both men’s eyes dart toward her stomach, their hands twitching as if they were dying to feel that tiny, miraculous life one more time.

*

The next evening, the building’s garden was bathed in the soft, amber glow of a setting sun. The air was finally clear of the storm’s humidity, replaced by a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of the old banyan tree.

Maysha was nestled comfortably on the large wooden tree-bed swing, her back supported by a mountain of outdoor cushions.

She had her eyes closed, lost in the rhythmic melody playing through her headsets. A small smile played on her lips as she hummed along, but then she paused, an idea sparking in her eyes.

Gently, she slid the earplugs off her own ears and stretched the headset wide, pressing the speakers firmly against the high, taut sides of her baby bump.

"Listen to this, you two," she whispered. "Isn't this song too good?."

A few seconds passed in silence. Then, two distinct, joyful ripples moved across her abdomen—one on the left, one on the right—as if the twins were dancing to the beat. Maysha let out a soft, delighted laugh, quickly putting the earplugs back in her own ears to finish the song with them, knowing now that they shared her taste in music.

A few yards away, near the garden steps, a different kind of peace had settled. Maira was sitting on the lower stone step, her head leaning back against Ishaan’s knees as he sat on the step above her. Ishaan’s fingers were moving in slow, rhythmic circles, giving her a deep, soothing head massage.

Maira’s eyes were closed, her face pale but relaxed under his touch.

Ishaan, sensing her lingering fatigue, was doing what he did best—taking care of her without demanding words.

"Better?" Ishaan asked softly, his thumbs kneading the tension from her temples.

"Much better," Maira breathed, though her hand stayed rested firmly over her own bump, a silent, protective gesture that had become her constant habit since hearing Sujata's "male heir" demand.

High above them in the duplex, the lights were ablaze. In the kitchen, Ayush was a whirlwind of activity. He had an apron tied over his t-shirt and was busy chopping vegetables and searing chicken, determined to make a high-protein, dinner to help Maysha to retain her strength.

Meanwhile, in the Maan-Ayush's guest room, the atmosphere was much quieter.Maan sat hunched over his laptop. The screen was split into three, showing the bright, encouraging faces of Siddharth and Roshni. They were knee-deep in reviewing fabric swatches and crib safety certifications for the Khurana Mansion outhouse.

"The cloud-themed wallpaper is a winner, Maan," Siddharth said, leaning into the camera. "But I have to ask—you’re building this masterpiece at the outhouse, and Ayush is surely doing something similar at the Luthra estate. Are the two of you planning to do anything for the twins at Maysha’s parents' mansion?"

Roshni nodded in agreement. "Siddharth is right. She hasn’t made her final choice on who will be her husband and the babies father, and it’s advisable that you both co-operate on a space at her home. Instead of competing over whose nursery looks more grand or feels more comfortable, why not build a sanctuary where she feels most at ease?"

Maan’s expression shifted, the typical competitive edge softening into something more thoughtful. He glanced toward the door, ensuring Ayush wasn't within earshot, though the sound of chopping from the kitchen suggested he was busy.

"Actually," Maan began, his voice low and sincere, "Ayush and I have already been talking about that. We’ve decided to surprise her on the Godbharai day. When the ceremony is held at her place, we want to unveil a nursery that we’ve built together. It will be a gift from both of us."

Siddharth raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "A joint project? That’s a big step for you two."

"It is," Maan admitted with a small, tired smile. "Whatever I’ve saved so far—and collectively, Ayush has put in just as much effort—is going into this. We want the nursery at her parents' house to be more special than the ones we’ve made in our own mansions. We’re doing it with the support of our families, and in my case, with both of you."

Roshni’s face lit up with a genuine, warm smile. "That is a beautiful idea, Maan. Maysha is going to love it. After everything, seeing the two of you act as a unified support system and as loving, caring fathers... that’s the best gift you could give her. It shows how much you’ve both grown throughout this journey."

Maan nodded, feeling a rare sense of alignment. "She’s been through enough. She shouldn't have to choose between two nurseries; she should have one perfect home wherever she goes ".

As the video call continued, the soft glow of the screen reflecting the newfound vulnerability in Maan’s eyes. After the logistics of the nursery were settled, Siddharth leaned back, his expression turning more personal.

"Maan, everything looks great for the outhouse, but tell me something..." Siddharth’s voice softened. "Did you ever get the opportunity to actually confess your feelings to Maysha? You’ve been carrying that weight for a long time."

Maan let out a long, weary sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes and no, Bhai. I mean, I did confess... but she was sleeping. I sat by her bed during the fever and told her everything. But to her face? I don't think I have the guts. And it hurts—like my chest physically hurts to not be able to tell her I’m in love with her. But I’m terrified of her rejection. After what I did, can you blame her if she says no?"

"Idiot," Siddharth said, though his tone was fond. "But what if she chooses you? Maan, just try. You might be lucky. You never know what’s going on in her head after seeing how you've stepped up. Show her how much she means to you, irrespective of you being her kids' father."

Roshni leaned into the frame, her eyes full of support. "I agree with Sid, Maan. What’s the harm in trying? At the very least, you’ll have closure even if she doesn't choose you. Carrying it inside your heart will only make things worst which can lead to depression."

Maan looked away from the camera for a moment, thinking of Maysha as her flashes of smiling face comes into his mind, then nodded with a newfound resolve. "I will... on the day of the Godbharai, I shall confess my feelings to her properly. I’ll tell her the truth."

"That’s like my brother," Siddharth smiled, clapping his hands together once to shift the mood. "Okay, abhi bohot senti baatein hogayi (enough sentimental talk for now). Let’s finalize this. We need to lock in the theme, the furniture, the fittings, and all the accessories based on the theme. And that crib—it needs to be top-tier."

Maan straightened his shoulders, pulling up a new folder of blueprints. "Right. Let's get to work."

Downstairs, the swing continued to rock gently. Maysha was still lost in her music, unaware that the two men who had once fought over "sperm quality" were now quietly merging their savings and their hearts to build a future for her children under her own roof.

*

Maysha and Maira had now entered their 6th month of pregnancy. For Maysha with the twins growing rapidly, the cravings that were once manageable had morphed into high-intensity missions.

It was almost 2 AM the night. The duplex was silent, save for the hum of the air conditioning.Maysha wrapped in a loose cardigan over her maternity pajamas managed to sneak Ayush's car keys from the keys holder gripped tightly in her hand.. Her mind was a singular loop of dark, rich, molten chocolate—the legendary Matilda Cake.

She had just reached for the handle when the hallway light flicked on.

"And where exactly do you think you’re going at this hour?"

Maysha froze like she had been caught and she turned around to find Maan leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He was dressed in a simple grey t-shirt and track pants, he yawned while saying.

"I’m... going for a walk," Maysha lied, tucked the keys behind her back.

Maan raised a skeptical eyebrow. "In your slippers? With.. I think that 's Ayu...yeah no that's my car keys?" Maysha hides the keys behind her "At almost two in the morning, while whole of Mumbai is probably asleep? No I don't think so. What if a cop stops you?" he asked, his voice dropping into a stern but amused register. "Even if you have your license, what if he asks for the papers and finds you aren't the owner of the car?"

Maysha lifted her chin defiantly. "Then I’ll send an SOS message. Or... I'll just excuse myself as a pregnant woman in distress. I'll tell him my husband wasn’t allowing me to go out, so I took his car and drove myself to the cafe to feed his kids."

Maan’s expression shifted, a flicker of genuine amusement dancing in his eyes. He stepped closer, leaning down slightly to meet her gaze. "And who is this 'husband' by the way? Is it me? Since these car keys belong to me."

Maysha rolled her eyes, though a faint flush crept up her neck. "This is just an excuse for the cop, Maan. Don't be so flattered just yet; I haven't decided on anything. And don't assume... it’s just that I love your car model. I wanted to drive on the empty roads feeling cool while heading to the cafe to feed these hungry babies."

"Cool, I understand," Maan chuckled softly. "I have to wait some more time for your decision, but until then, I’m just enjoying the feeling that you’d claim to be my wife to get out of trouble."

"Maan let me go,..."she huffed, her polite mask slipping. "I need that cake. Not a brownie, not a diet pastry—the Matilda Cake. The one that looks like it was made by a professional that doesn't do diet cakes. My body is eighty percent chocolate-void right now."

"You are not stepping outside so late, alone, and without informing anyone," Maan said, his dropping protective concern
"Now you know right! Isn't that fine for you?" Maysha says

"It’s not safe. What if you feel dizzy? What if you get breathless? What if the car breaks down out of nowhere? Stay here. I’ll order it."

"I tried! Everything is 'currently unavailable' on the apps!" Maysha stepped closer, pointing a finger at his chest. "And don't give me that 'protective' lecture. I am a grown woman who happens to be carrying two very hungry humans and if anything happens I know even my fatigue am aware to leave a SOS message. I am going."

"Over my dead body," Maan countered, moving to block the door. "If you need it that badly, I'll go get it. You go back to bed."

"No! I need to see the cake. I need to be there when it's sliced. If you go, you'll probably bring back some 'organic, sugar-free' version because you're obsessed with Keto and dietry foods and I have seen that quite from you over the last 6 months, you don't know much I await for Ayush to prepare something for me which is protein rich as well something isnt so much health conscious more like Ghar jaisa food.And am not complaining, it's just that right now all I can think is the Matilda cake which isn't healthy as per your definition of healthy that's why ."

Maan let out a frustrated groan. "I would never insult a chocolate cake like that, Maysha."

"Then prove it," she challenged, her eyes gleaming. She suddenly reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the door. "If you're so worried about my safety, then you’re my getaway driver. Come on, Mr.Khurana.Show me that you actually care about us" she makes her puppy eyes by rubbing her baby bump to melt him.

Maan hesitated for exactly two seconds before the sight of her puppy eyes face crumbled his resolve. "Fine. But I’m driving.And next time please don't do that"

"Do what?"

"That puppy eyes and being all cute"

"Awweeee, thanks for telling me how to get what I want from you" she chirped, pushing him out into the hallway.

As they settled into the car, the engine purring to life in the quiet driveway, Maysha immediately began navigating on her phone. Her face was illuminated by the blue light of the screen as she frantically swiped through maps and social media pages.

"Okay, look,"she said, showing him a blurry photo of a towering, gooey cake. "Since we are in Andheri right now, and this 24hr bistro is at the T2 airport departure.We shall check this"

"T2 airport it is," Maan said, shifting the car into gear. "But if they're out of stock, don't blame the driver."

"If they're out of stock, Maan, you better be prepared to find a kitchen and bake one yourself," she countered with a smirk.

As they sped through the empty, street-lit avenues of Mumbai, Maan started to tap the steering wheel. As the car glided onto the empty, street-lit avenues, Maan’s fingers began a rhythmic tap against the leather steering wheel. He glanced at her, a rare, boyish smirk breaking through his exhaustion.

Paune (ek) bara baje

Dono ghar se chale

Whats going on

Whats going on

Maysha laughed, shoving her phone in front of his face, the glowing screen displaying a towering, gooey slice of the Matilda Cake. Maan shook his head and gestured broadly with one hand toward the desolate, quiet city outside the window.

Soye hain raaste

He points dramatically at the GPS map on the dashboard

Yeh kaha ham chale

Whats going on

Whats going on

Maysha didn't back down; she rubbed her belly and made a mock-starving face, miming that the twins were the ones calling the shots.

When they reached the T2 airport parking lot, the atmosphere only got livelier. Maysha hopped out, the "thump" of the car door acting like a beat. She began to walk with a sassy, playful sway, looking back at him with a mock-annoyed expression.

Bulaya kisine tumhein kya

Yaha jo tum lehrake aaye

Maan caught up to her, gesturing to himself and then to her bump with a "Me? Or we?" look, before waving it off with a "never mind" sign. Maysha rolled her eyes, her smile widening.

Kare ham jo chahe tumhein kya

Jo aaye hamko samjhane

She started a smooth moonwalk backward toward the bistro entrance, her eyes locked on his as she teased him.

Hum toh chale

Piche tum kyon pade

Whats going on

Whats going on

Maan couldn't resist. He fell into step beside her, and for a brief moment in the middle of the terminal walkway, they mirrored each other's steps in a synchronized dance.

Paune (ek) bara baje

Dono ghar se chale

Whats going on

Whats going on

Inside, the news was devastating: "Sold Out." Maysha’s shoulders slumped, her lower lip trembling in a way that actually made Maan’s heart ache. But the gloom didn't last. A group of hippie travelers nearby, waiting for an early flight, saw her face and started a low, rhythmic chant, clapping their hands.

hey hey hey... hey hey hey

They started a carefree shuffle, and Maysha, ever the actress, joined in, her spirit lifting instantly. Maan, however, wasn't about to let her join a drum circle at 2:30 AM. He stepped in closer, trying to steer her away from the travelers.

Maan tugging gently at her arm

Chalo chodo nakhre dikhana dikhana

duniya ka na koi thikana thikana

Maysha playfully brushed his hand off, making a "Where did you learn that?" sign with her hands

Kaha seekha baatein yeh banana banana

She suddenly reached out and shrugged his blazer off his shoulders, draping the oversized, expensive fabric over her own frame. She snuggled into it, singing with a wink:

Duniya se hamko yu bachana bachana

Maan stopped, pointing a stern but amused finger at her.

Ladki ho tum dekh na patchtaaogi

He mimes her running away and then frantically running back to him.

Bangti hui laut ke phir aaogi

Maysha immediately held her ears in a classic "sorry" pose, her head tilting cutely.

Seekha hamne jaakar phir na wapas aana

She waves a final goodbye and starts another moonwalk away from him.

Hum toh chale

Piche tum kyun pade

Whats going on

Whats going on

Maan let out a loud laugh, the sound echoing through the terminal. He jogged up to her, catching her hand and spinning her back into a final dance move before they headed back to the car.

Paune (ek) bara baje

Dono ghar se chale

Whats going on

Whats going on

Sitting back in the car, the engine idling with a low hum, Maan turned to her with a curious glint in his eyes.

"I was actually wondering," he started, glancing out the window at the empty street. "Why haven't we seen a single pap? You’re an influencer—I figured you’d have been spotted by now."

Maysha let out a short, knowing laugh and shook her head. "Maan, paps don’t just 'appear' out of thin air. For the big A-listers or major influencers, it’s their PR teams who coordinate the 'spotting.' And for the smaller, budding creators? They usually call the photographers themselves." She nudged his shoulder playfully. "And don't act like you’re clueless about this. You’ve been part of the industry long enough—you’ve done dance reality shows and BB."

Maan shifted the car into gear, a reflective smile crossing his face. "Honestly? It was only during the shows that I was ever really around them. I’ve won two dance reality shows and survived the BB house, and yet, I’ve never been 'randomly' snapped once since then." He chuckled, realization dawning on him. "I genuinely didn't realize that being 'spotted' was a staged production. I guess I really was unaware."

He settled into his seat, his hands steady on the wheel. "Anyway, lesson learned. Now, where are we headed?"

Maysha scrolled through her Google Maps, her eyes lighting up when she found the perfect spot. "Marine Drive," she announced, docking her phone into the dashboard mount so the route was visible.

Maan looked at the screen and then back at her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Marine Drive it is then, madam."

The drive from the airport to South Mumbai was a blur of orange streetlights and salty sea air. Finally, tucked away in a quiet lane near Marine Drive, they found a boutique café with its "Open" sign still flickering.

The baker, a young man who looked like he’d seen his fair share of midnight cravings, brought out the towering, velvet-textured Matilda Cake. As he slid the knife through the layers of dense, dark sponge and glistening chocolate ganache, Maysha’s eyes widened. Her mouth literally watered, and she leaned forward, mesmerized by the sight of the molten center oozing out.

She took the plate to a nearby table and took the first bite. A soft moan of pure, unadulterated joy escaped her. She relished it, closing her eyes and cherishing every rich, creamy morsel as if the world outside had ceased to exist.

Maan watched her from the counter, a quiet, fascinated smile playing on his lips. To him, seeing her this happy over a slice of cake was more rewarding than winning any dance reality show. The baker, noticing Maan’s intense gaze, leaned in and whispered, "May I ask which month your wife is in?"

Maan paused. The word wife hung in the air, echoing what Maysha had jokingly said earlier about her excuse for the cops. He looked back at her—chocolate on her lip and a look of absolute bliss on her face—and decided to play along.

"My wife is six months pregnant with twins," Maan admitted, his voice holding a trace of pride he didn't bother to hide. "Seeing her this content while relishing every bite... it makes me happy. I know my twins are enjoying this late-night extravaganza as well."

"Oh wow, that’s nice," the baker smiled warmly. "Congratulations, sir. I’ve seen many pregnant women coming over to satisfy their sweet cravings, and I’m glad Ma’am is enjoying this one too."

Once the plate was scraped clean, they stepped out into the cool, humid night. The salt from the Arabian Sea was heavy in the air.

"Maan, take me to the seafront," Maysha said, nodding toward the promenade. "I want to walk by the water."

Maan checked his watch, his protective instincts kicking back in. "Maysha, it’s past 3:30 AM. You’ve had your cake, the mission is successful. It’s time to head back and sleep."

"But look at the horizon," she pleaded, pointing toward where the dark water met the sky, illuminated by the golden "Queen's Necklace" of streetlights. "The hue is so beautiful tonight. Just ten minutes, please?"

Maan shook his head, resisting. "No. It’s too late, and the sea breeze is getting cold."

Maysha immediately halted. She turned to him, her lower lip trembling slightly as she summoned the ultimate weapon. She looked up at him with those wide, shimmering puppy dog eyes and rested a hand on her bump.

"Humare bache ke liye bhi nahi? (Not even for our babies?)" she whispered.

Maan let out a long, defeated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Kuch zyada toh nahi kar rahi ho? (Aren't you doing a bit too much?) You know you’ve found my weakness and you’re just taking advantage of it now."

Maysha’s innocent look vanished, replaced by a triumphant, cheeky grin. "Fayda utha sakti hoon kyunki tum inn bachon ke baap ho (I can take advantage because you are the father of these children). And did I say you had to come along? If I were alone, I would have definitely made a stop at the promenade anyway."

"Fine," Maan groaned, though there was no real heat in it. "This is the last time, haan (Okay) Maysha? I mean it."

Maysha turned her back to him to head toward the car, but her face was split in a wide, mischievous grin. She whispered under her breath, "Yeah, I guess so..." knowing full well she’d have him wrapped around her finger again by tomorrow.

They drove the short distance and Maan found a parking spot near the curve of the promenade. As they stepped out and walked toward the stone ledge, the sound of the waves crashing against the tetrapods filled the silence, and for a moment, the bickering and the music faded into a deep, peaceful calm.

Maan and Maysha walk towards the promenade.The instrumental part of the song plays in the background

Maysha, caught in a surge of adrenaline and chocolate-fueled joy, breaks into a run toward the stone edge. She moves like a kid in a park, her hand protectively cupping her bump even as she skips.

"Maysha! Stop!" Maan calls out, his voice a mix of terror and instinct. He sprints after her, his eyes locked on her every move.

With a mischievous laugh, she hopped onto the lower stone edge. But before she could take another step onto the higher ledge, Maan was there. He lunged forward, his arms locking firmly around her waist to steady her, his body pressing against hers as he secured her balance.

As she turns in his arms, the world slows down.

The golden hue of the streetlights catches her eyes, and for Maan, the present dissolves into a flurry of flashes:

Their first meeting at the dance studio, her energy vibrant as they prepped for a reel.

Sneaking out to this very spot on the eve of the NMACC Best Dance Academy Competition.

The heat and intimacy of the Suryagarh Palace selecluded spot.

The crushing guilt of blocking her number, followed by the sight of her lying heart-broken in the hospital bed while he wept at her side.

The weight of it all—the love and the sin—hits him at once. He gently helps her down to the pavement and immediately pulls his hands away, turning his back to the sea. He looks haunted, the guilt radiating off his shoulders.

Maysha sees it. She knows the shadow on his face is the past, and she refuses to let it ruin their night. She decides to pull him back into their game.She walks ahead of him, tucking her hands behind her back, swaying as she sings.

Turning to him with a cheeky grin

Chalo Hamein Itna Batao Batao

She throws her hands up in a 'why' gesture, teasing him

Parwaah Tumhein Kyon?

She pulls the edges of her cardigan closer around her, leaning in like she’s waiting for a secret

Yeh Sunaioo Sunaao!

He scoffs, pointing at his own chest and looking away as if he couldn't care less

Parwaah Kise Hain? Jaao.. Jaao... Ha Jaao!

He gestures toward the open road, challenging her

Reh Lo Akeli Jo Reh Paao... Reh Paao!

She pauses, her hand moving to her stomach as she looks him dead in the eye, her voice soft but defiant

Rehna Pade Toh Chalo Reh Jaayenge

Thodi Kami Yeh Chalo Seh Jaayenge

The line hits Maan harder than he expects. He turns abruptly and heads for the car, his stride long and stubborn.

Calling over his shoulder

Toh Fir Jao Rehlo Sehlo Phir Batlaao

He climbs into the driver's seat and twists the key. The engine roars, he revs it aggressively, but then—sputter, cough, silent. The car dies.

She leans against the passenger window, smirking at his misfortune

Ham Toh Chale

Pitche Tum Ho Pade

Maan groans, getting out and looking at the hood. He looks at her sheepishly, gesturing for her to come to the back. "Maysha... I think we need to push." Maysha is laughing as she walks to the back of the car.

Whats Going On

Whats Going On

She mimics his earlier gesture, mocking him

Bulaya Kisine Tumhein Kya Yaha Jo Tum Lehrake Aaye

Kare Ham Jo Chahe Tumhein Kya Jo Aaye Hamko Samjhane

They both put their hands on the trunk, trying to heave the heavy car forward. They push with all their might—Maan straining and Maysha giving a playful effort—but the car doesn't budge an inch. They both collapse against the car, panting and laughing at the absurdity of it.

She then sings leaving him behind

Ham Toh Chale

Pitche Tum Ho Pade

Whats Going On

Whats Going On

and then pulls her and dances along with her

Paune (Ek) Bara Baje

Dono Ghar Se Chale

Whats Going On

Whats Going On

Maysha turns around, leaning her back against the bumper and gesturing to the empty, beautiful stretch of Marine Drive.

Soye Hain Raaste Yeh Kaha Ham Chale

Whats Going On

Whats Going On

Joining her in a final, synchronized step for the last chorus

Paune (Ek) Bara Baje Dono Ghar Se Chale

Whats Going On

Whats Going On

As the song faded into the sound of the ocean, Maan carefully helped Maysha up onto the ledge of the promenade.He sat beside her, but the fatigue of the sixth month had finally taken its toll on her.Her eyelids felt heavy as she tilted her head, resting it naturally in the hollow of Maan's shoulder. Her hands rested over the baby bump, feeling their sleepy stirs. He wrapped one arm securely around her waist to keep her steady, while his other hand moved instinctively, laying gently over her hand on on top of her bump. As Maysha breathing slowed into a deep sleep and with his hand feeling the warmth of the life they had created, Maan’s eyes eventually drifted shut. They sat there, two silhouettes against the vast Mumbai horizon, taking a shared, quiet nap as they awaited the sunrise and the mechanic to head back home.

*

Few days later around 11, Maira was heading downstairs to head towards the hall balcony to do yoga with Maysha which was her everyday routine as Maan made it a habit to do Live yoga via the screen.But as she heading downstairs, her leg slipped, and for a terrifying second, she lost her balance.

"Di" Maysha’s scream ripped through the house, sharp and filled with such raw terror that it acted like a physical jolt to everyone inside.

Downstairs in the hall balcony, Maan dropped the laptop he was setting up for their yoga session, the device clattering onto the table as he bolted for the stairs.In kitchen, Ayush nearly dropped the knife he was using for the Sunday lunch, sprinting out of the kitchen with his apron still tied. While from mezzanine floor itself, Ishaan slammed his laptop shut and came flying out of his room, his heart hammering against his ribs. All three men moved in a blind, instinctive rush toward the source of that scream.

Maysha who was heading downstairs for her yoga session as well eacted with a burst of maternal instinct that overrode her own physical limitations. She lunged forward, her arms catching Maira’s frame just before she could tumble onto the ground floor's marble surface. The sudden, jerky movement sent a sharp, agonizing muscle pull shooting through Maysha’s lower back and side.

Maysha let out a muffled gasp, her face contorting in pain, but she didn't let go until she had guided Maira safely into the nearby armchair of the mezzaine floor.

"Are you okay? Di, look at me," Maysha panted, her voice thick with genuine panic. She was doubled over slightly, her hands trembling as she touched Maira’s shoulders. She ignored the stabbing spasms in her back, her only focus being the sister she had nearly lost to a fall. "Did you hit your stomach? We need to call Dr.Sonal—no, wait, take a deep breath first. Tell me if the baby is moving."

Maira sat frozen, her heart hammering. But she wasn't looking at her own stomach; she was staring at Maysha. She saw the way Maysha was gritting her teeth, the beads of sweat forming on her forehead, and the way her body was tilted at an unnatural angle to protect her injured side.

"Maysha... did you strain your back?" Maira whispered, her voice trembling. "You saved me while putting yourself at risk?"

"That doesn't matter right now!" Maysha snapped affectionately, her protective sisterly mode in full swing. "I’m fine, it’s just a pull. Di it's not just me that is pregnant, you are too and just like me you’re also on your sixth month, That's why, you have to be careful. If something happened to you or the baby, I wouldn't not be able to forgive myself Just stay still, okay? Take slow breaths."

The overwhelm finally broke Maira. Tears blurred her vision, not from the fright of the fall, but from the sheer weight of Maysha’s love. For months, their relationship had been strained by silence, awkwardness, and the shadow of her past with Maan. To hear Maysha speak more than a short, clipped sentence—to hear her pouring out such raw, unfiltered concern—was more healing than any medicine.

Maira reached out, taking Maysha’s frantic hands in hers and squeezing them tightly.

"I’m fine, Mayshu. I promise. The baby is fine," Maira said, her voice cracking as she tried to calm her sister down. "Please, sit. You’re the one who’s hurt. But... thank you."

Maira wiped a stray tear from her cheek, a small, watery smile breaking through. "I’m just so happy... you’re actually talking to me. Really talking to me. I’ve missed your voice so much, and seeing you this concerned for me... it makes me feel like my little sister is finally back."

Maysha paused, the adrenaline fading just enough for the emotional weight of Maira’s words to sink in. She looked at their joined hands, then up at Maira’s tearful face. The "muscle pull" was still throbbing, but for the first time, the wall between them felt paper-thin.

"I never left, Maira," Maysha said softly, her voice losing its panicked edge. "I was just... lost for a bit. But I’m here now. I’ve got you."

Maysha leaned in, pulling Maira into a tight, emotional hug. But as she did, another sharp spasm shot through her spine, making her breath hitch painfully. She tried to mask it, but Maira felt the involuntary tremor in Maysha's arms. She knew this wasn't just a "minute" strain.

Looking up, she saw Maan, Ayush who rushed through the stairs and while Ishaan stood behind Maira , all three of them breathless and pale from the frantic run.

"She caught me," Maira called out to them, her voice urgent. "I slipped and Maysha caught me—but she’s hurt her back, Ayush...Maan!She’s in a lot of pain!"

Ayush moved first, dropping to his knees beside Maysha. He placed a hand gently on her lower back, and even through the fabric of her cardigan, he could feel the muscles knotted and rigid with tension. As he tried to help her stand, Maysha let out a sharp, involuntary hiss, her body instinctively tilting to the side to protect the strain.

"She can’t walk," Ayush noted, his face hardening with concern. He looked up at Maan. "Maan, don't let her put weight on it. Carry her."

Without a word, Maan stepped in. He gathered Maysha into his arms with practiced care, mindful of her bump and the visible wince on her face. He carried her towards her bedroom, his stride long and hurried, while Ayush followed closely behind. As Maan settled her onto the bed, propping her up with pillows, Ayush sat on the edge of the mattress and took her hand. Maan sat on the other side, gripping her other hand, both men acting as silent anchors for her pain.

Ishaan entered a moment later, guiding a shaken Maira into the room. "I’ve already called Dr. Sonal," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos. "She’s rushing over. I’m going to gather the portable ultrasound monitor, heartbeat monitor and the heating pads so we’re ready when she gets here with her medical briefcase as well."

True to her word, Dr. Sonal arrived within twenty minutes. The room was thick with a heavy, anxious silence as she performed a focused examination by doing an ultrasound, and checking the twins' heartbeats before moving to the deep bruising and swelling along Maysha's lumbar region.She then rubbed the residue over Maysha's baby bump with the tissue and pulled her yoga top to cover exposed area and covered Maysha with the bedsheet and straightened up, her expression a mixture of professional relief and stern warning.

"The babies are perfectly fine," she began, and the collective exhale from the four people surrounding the bed was audible. "Their heart rates are stable, and they haven’t been affected by the sudden jar. However," she shifted her gaze directly to Maysha, "you were incredibly lucky. Catching the weight of another person while carrying twins in your sixth month is an immense strain on your body."

She stepped back to address Ishaan, Maira, Ayush, and Maan, her voice dropping into a serious, authoritative tone.

"Maysha, for the next week, you are on total bed rest. That means no stairs, no yoga, and absolutely no unnecessary movement. We need the inflammation in your paraspinal muscles to settle completely before you even think about being active again. To help with the spasms and the swelling, I want you all to alternate between cold packs and warm compresses every few hours; it’s the only way to soothe those deep tissue layers without heavy medication."

She paused, looking at Maan and Ayush, who were still anchored to either side of Maysha’s bed.

"When she is eventually cleared to move around, she must wear a maternity support belt at all times. It’s a mechanical necessity now—it will take the structural weight of the twins off her injured back muscles so they don't tear further. But until then, she is under a zero-exertion policy. She needs help with everything, and I mean everything. Even reaching for a glass of water or shifting her position in bed could re-trigger a spasm. If this strain doesn't heal properly, the sheer physical stress on her system could lead to premature contractions, and that is a risk we are not willing to take."

Maira looked at Maysha, her eyes filling with fresh tears of guilt, but Maysha just squeezed her hand back weakly, a small, tired smile on her face.

"She’ll be fine," Ayush whispered, his eyes never leaving Maysha’s pale face, "we'll make sure she doesn't have to lift a finger."

Maan nodded, his jaw set in a line of quiet, fierce determination. "Consider it done, Doctor. She won't even be reaching for a pillow on her own."