FF: PALLAVI by Jalebi Jane SEE NOTE PAGE 117 - Page 8

Simply amazing what a narration

Keep writing 👏

I enjoy every line ❤️

Pallavi’s no doubt a heroine... And I just love how Krishna is there for her... We all deserve a friend like her... i’m really excited about next chapter... it’ll be about Raghav 😳

And yeah... thank you so much for updating so regularly...🤗

Originally posted by: __VIHU

Pallavi’s no doubt a heroine... And I just love how Krishna is there for her... We all deserve a friend like her... i’m really excited about next chapter... it’ll be about Raghav 😳

And yeah... thank you so much for updating so regularly...🤗

I know---I adore Krishna as a character. I love writing about the power of female friendship --- and in every tale I always include a bromance. Looking at you Raghav-Farhad :-)

Amazing👏

I don't know how to express it but your narration is like a music....the more you listen the more engrossed you are. You are talented girl...loved it.😛

Originally posted by: Mihika

Amazing👏

I don't know how to express it but your narration is like a music....the more you listen the more engrossed you are. You are talented girl...loved it.😛

What a lovely comment, Sister.

Thank you. I'm pleased you are enjoying the tale.

APRIL 8, 2021

EPISODE 7

I have now relayed to you, Sisters, all I know of Mandhar’s duplicitous dealings. Whether he is dead or alive is beyond my knowledge. And truth be told, beyond my current interest.

My interests and fears are wholly for our Heroine. I’m sure you agree with me that Pallavi ought to disclose everything to the Deshmukhs. Her desire to protect their feelings is commendable but in protecting them she does untold damage to herself.

For a full year she has been enduring immeasurable stress that is not decreasing but increasing. Because she has convinced Aayi and Baba that Deshmukh Saree Emporium is thriving, they have brushed all responsibility for the shop off their shoulders onto hers. They spend money believing it is abundant—while Pallavi struggles to earn every rupee. But were Pallavi to suggest they economise, they would demand to see the account ledgers and discover the truth which Pallavi is desperate to hide.

What kind of life is this for a twenty-four year old woman whose only error was trusting the wrong man?

Her life has become an endless series of crisis. The moment a problem is averted at the shop, another arises at home. This evening was a case in point.

It was nearing the end of the workday. And despite having received many customers, few had made a purchase. Such days are inevitable in any business, but because DSE’s debt load was so heavy, a slow day was not easy to shrug off.

Pallavi was sorting through a stack of payables trying to work out which bills she could postpone paying, while Krishna was taking photographs of their newest stock to promote on social media.

Pallavi’s phone rang.

It was Aayi. She sounded frantic. Pallavi could not make sense of her words—all she understood was that she was needed at home this instant.

Catching Pallavi’s alarm, Krishna asked, “What is it?!”

Pallavi came to her feet. Her brows gathered over her green eyes stormy with concern.

“I’m not sure, Krishna. That was Aayi. I need to get home. Something’s happened,” Pallavi explained, returning the bills to the cabinet. “Could you—?”

Krishna offered before the sentence was out. “—You go on. I’ll lock up.”

“Thank you,” Pallavi said, dropping a kiss on Krishna’s cheek. “And thank you for last night. Notwithstanding the casino drama, I can honestly say that it was the most fun I’ve had since college.”

Krishna offered, “Come anytime. The best thing that has happened to my life is Amma joining that spiritual society. She’s always going on pilgrimages and I’m often alone.”

“Then it’s the ideal time to acquire a lover,” Pallavi teased.

“Go away,” Krishna blushed.

Pallavi was on the scooter fastening her helmet when Krishna came racing.

She laughed, “Don’t forget this,” pressing into Pallavi’s arms a parcel neatly packaged in brown paper.

It was Raghav Rao’s jacket dropped off by the dry-cleaner.

“Oh! Thank you,” Pallavi said, kissing her again.

“And the other items?” Krishna asked.

Pallavi patted her purse to verify she did.

Krishna waved Pallavi off. “Text me tonight.”

***

When Pallavi raced into Deshmukh Niwas breathless and agitated, she discovered there was no emergency. It was only that the Panditji had provided the family with an auspicious date for Rahul and Mansi’s nuptials. Rahul and his parents had dropped by and now there was an impromptu party.

Yes, it was happy news. There had not been much to celebrate under this roof for the past year so Pallavi could understand why Aayi had excitedly demanded she come home.

However, Pallavi couldn’t seem to summon the excitement everyone around her was expressing.

Her heart felt heavy.

Why did she feel this way?

She loved Mansi. She adored Rahul. She knew they would be very happy together.

No, she decided—it was not about them or the wedding—it was because on hearing the date, her first thought had been—where will the money come from?

Milind Kaka and Sulochana Kaku would bear the cost of their daughter’s wedding but as in every joint family, Aayi and Baba would wish to contribute, and there would be gifts and clothes to purchase.

It angered Pallavi that she was looking at what was a source of happiness as a source of stress. And she didn’t want to be close-hearted and tight-fisted—but how could she prevent it when she was genuinely worried about money all the time.

“What is it, Pallu?” Aayi asked.

Aayi had a keen understanding of Pallavi’s body language and facial expressions—she could often read her before she herself knew what she was feeling.

Pallavi forced a smile. “Nothing, Aayi.”

“Don’t ‘kuch nahi Aayi’ me—I can see on your face that you are worried. Come with me,” Aayi insisted, leading her into the kitchen. “Speak.”

“Really Aayi—it’s nothing at all—” but as Aayi raised a brow in warning, Pallavi decided to disclose some of her fears. “I’m just concerned how we’ll be able to manage everything in two weeks. It’s such a short time. There’s a lot to plan. And there will be many expenses to meet. The shop hasn’t been very busy lately.”

“It’ll be fine, Pallu,” Aayi said, her tone almost dismissive. “This is always the case—a wedding date is announced and it all seems impossible to accomplish in the time frame but somehow everything gets done. You’ll see.”

Pallavi nodded. Aayi’s response didn’t address her concern about the expenses. Maybe Krishna was right—maybe she should tell them.

Or what if she told Aayi alone? She was stronger than Baba—physically and emotionally—and together they could manage the situation.

“You’re not sad because of—?” Aayi gently asked without completing her sentence.

Pallavi knew what she was asking—and she replied accordingly. “Not at all. My experience was my experience. I’m delighted for Mansi. I wish her every happiness.”

“My dear child,” Aayi asked, her eyes moistening. “If only I could see you as a bride again—”

“Aayi, please—” Pallavi protested.

“—Sharda!” came a sharp voice from the kitchen doorway.

It was Vijay Deshmukh. Her father-in-law. Baba.

He was a tall man, slim, and with fair eyes. Those unaware of his relationship to Pallavi assumed he was Pallavi’s father because they shared a strong resemblance.

He made it no secret that he adored Pallavi and she him.

He continued, “You know I’ll never allow my daughter to leave this house.” And to Pallavi he said, “Come with me. I have something to show you.” And taking her hand, he led her away from the kitchen.

She looked back at her mother-in-law who said, “Go, escape with your favourite parent—but know that this conversation is not over.”

Pallavi was relieved—but it was a short-lived relief. Baba led her to the room he referred to as ‘Mandhar’s room’—which was, of course, now her bedroom. On the bedspread were architectural drawings.

Dread filled Pallavi’s heart. She didn’t have to look at the drawings carefully to know what they represented.

Keeping her voice neutral, she asked, “Are these of Raghav Rao’s new mall?”

“Yes, I met the agent this morning.” Baba said, with pride. “They still have a few spaces left to lease but as you can imagine they are going fast.”

Baba had shown her a brochure of the mall Raghav was constructing next to his Sagar Lake Resort & Casino. That was where Pallavi had seen the photo of Raghav wearing Mandhar’s ring—and though Pallavi couldn’t remember much of what she and Baba had discussed, she was certain she had told him him that it was not the time to relocate the shop.

Yet, he had still gone to meet with the agent.

“Isn’t it a beautiful design?—with views of the lake—see, there will be courtyard entrances on both sides—and fountains,” Baba said, pointing out the various features on the drawings.

Indeed, it was a gorgeous space.

One could fault Raghav Rao for many things but he knew how to create beauty and evoke luxury.

“Lovely,” she sighed, wishing she had it in her power to give DSE such a showroom. In this past year she had genuinely grown attached to the business. Like a mother nursing a difficult sick child, her love for the business had strengthened. And just like Baba—she wanted to elevate the DSE brand.

But—unlike Baba—she knew what was within their means.

She had to be entirely clear with Baba before he build too many castles in Raghav’s mall.

“It’s beautiful but I don’t think the shop could support it,” adding, “not yet,” to buffer the disappointment.

Baba said, “Well, it is your shop now—and you know best—but let me get some numbers from the agent. It can’t hurt to dream.”

Oh, yes, it can—Pallavi thought.

Fortunately, Nikhil entered the room to interrupt.

“What’s up, chicken?” he asked.

Baba pulled Nikhil’s ear. “I don’t like all these nonsense names you address Pallavi by. Reserve that for your college friends. This is your Vahini. Address her with respect.”

Pallavi laughed, “No, please, I beg you, Baba—not Vahini. I’ll feel ancient. And I rather like the names Nikhil comes up with. I never know what I’ll be from day to day.”

Nikhil gave his father a look of triumph.

Pallavi glanced at the wall clock. “I need to step out for an hour.”

“Can’t it wait?” Baba frowned. “We have guests.”

Pallavi was firm. “No,” she said, “I borrowed something which I promised to return.”

This would be my first comment on the story. I have been a silent reader & only now starting to come out of my shell😛. Your style of writing is amazing & commendable❤️👏. I wait for your updates everyday and today, when you updated 2 chapters back to back, I couldn't hold back my appreciation. So Thank You Ms. Jalebi Jane for keeping us sane with your amazing skills.🤗

Waiting to see what happens when she returns the ring ?

Will she tell the story of the ring ?

Will he know her real identity As owner of a store

Will Nik be a supportive of his vahini??

So good to see you back Jalebi Jane. Love love love this. Like all your FFs telling the story from our heroine's POV is always fresh. Engaging writing as always.

So ragahv is 10yrs older than Pallu. Love the hint of mischief in Pallu in her plans to learn about the ring shows us after all she is still young.

❤️you describe pallavi condition very well

Cant wait fir her meeting with raghav😎