The Dr Kaira Chapter. - Page 11

Originally posted by: A_Star39

Part 12:The Great Goenka Ejection

The glamour of the Naira Goenka Cultural Centre inaugurationhad faded, leaving behind the chill of hard reality and exposed emotionalwounds across Udaipur’s elite homes.

The master suite of the Goenka Mansion was a haven of hushedluxury. Muskan sat at her vanity, removing her heavy sapphire jewelry, while Kairavchanged into casual wear, the triumphant smirk he wore earlier now replaced bya look of familial concern.

Kairav: "We won tonight. It was a complete publichumiliation for the Poddars. But frankly, watching them... it wasdisgusting."

Muskan (Massaging her temples, her voice laced withdistaste): "Disgusting is the perfect word, Kairav. Vidya’s venom, thatvulgar outburst, Kaveri ji’s sheer desperation... it’s a culture, not just afamily. It’s rot."

She turned, holding a diamond bracelet loosely in her hand.

Muskan: "And that is precisely why we need to talkabout Aaryan. We chose him because he promised to be different, to be better.But if he is going to let that level of vulgarity and hatred be his background ifhe can't even keep his Taiji silent at a public event is he truly capable ofstanding by Kaira?"

Kairav (Walking over, his voice softening with paternalprotectiveness): "The risk feels too high. We put Kaira through so muchjust to secure this alliance, but seeing her standing next to him tonight,knowing that Poddar poison might seep into her life... I don't know if I canwatch her repeat Abhira's mistake."

Muskan: "Exactly. We promised Kaira freedom, notanother cycle of trauma and domestic chaos. If Aaryan is just 'another Armaan'hiding behind a clever suit, we need to save her now. We need to seriously reconsiderthis alliance. There are other ways to defeat the Poddars without sacrificingour daughter’s happiness to that messy, toxic family."

Kairav put his hand over hers, a decision silently made.Protecting Kaira from emotional damage outweighed the political convenience ofthe marriage.

In the relative quiet of the Poddar home, the air was thickwith defeat and silent accusation.

Abhira was seated alone in the massive living room, unableto move to her own quarters. Her mind was caught in a continuous, agonizingloop of Muskan and Kairav's dismissive voices.

Abhira (Whispering, her hands tightly gripping her knees): "Irrelevant.Doesn't hold prestige. Forgotten.I am maha sad"

The words had stripped her bare. She had spent a decadedefending the Sharma name, viewing it as the shield of her father's pure love.But the Goenkas had dismissed that love and that choice as meaninglesssentimentality, forcing her to realize: in their world, her entire foundationwas invisible.

She felt not just anger, but the cold trauma of knowing thather own powerful family considered her father's legacy the source of heridentity to be an embarrassing footnote.

Upstairs, Vidya lay stiffly in bed, the lights still on. Shewas still wearing the expensive, heavy jewelry she had worn to the event. Herface was pale, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears of wounded pride andfear.

Madhav, looking tired and defeated, sat beside her, gentlyrubbing her shoulder.

Madhav: "Vidya, please. Natak band karo,sach hi bola usne."

Vidya (Her voice a raw, choked hiss): "She didn't justhurt me, Madhav. She went too far. In front of the entire city! She brought upthe one thing... the one thing Maa saand I buried deeper than the grave! Shecalled Armaan 'chori ka'! She implied that I participated in erasing... hisbirth mother."

Vidya turned her face into her pillow, unable to bear thepublic exposure of the family's darkest secret.

Vidya: "They know, Madhav. The Goenkas know everything.And they will use it to destroy us."

Later that night, back in her own quiet own room at GoenkaVilla, Ruhi sat beside Daksh's bed. The recent confrontations Armaan’sself-pity, the Goenka’s cold dismissal of the Sharma name had left heremotionally drained.

She hummed a soft tune, stroking Daksh’s hair until hisbreathing deepened into the steady rhythm of sleep. Once assured he wassettled, she rose and moved to her walk-in closet.

She pulled out a crisp, expensive suit. Ruhi, now aformidable professional involved in the Goenka family’s international legal andbusiness affairs, knew the importance of presentation.

She hadn't been to the Birla Mansion in three years. MeetingHarshvardhan (Dada) and Manjari (Dida) was always an exercise in patience, eventhough their affection for her was absolute and unquestioned. They loved hercompletely, making her a safe harbour in the family's endless drama.Harshvardhan’s theatrical cruelty was legendary, but it was always directedoutward at Akshara, at the "tuntuna bajanewali," at anyone he deemedscientifically or intellectually beneath him.

I am Ruhi Birla , she mentally rehearsed, smoothingthe silk lining of her jacket. I am their granddaughter, the one they adore.I can withstand an hour of 'Piya Tose Naina Laage Re' taunts and 'panauti'lectures.

She knew the visit was a necessity a chance to maintain avital link to her late father, Neil’s, family and their institutional power.She would need every ounce of her professional composure for the visittomorrow, not to defend herself, but to simply survive her eccentric, lovinggrandfather's exaggerated judgment of everyone else.

The gleaming, minimalist white marble of the Birla Mansion’smain atrium felt like walking into a high-end heart hospital.

Ruhi, elegant and composed in her power suit, walked in withDaksh, who was examining the abstract steel sculpture in the corner with acritic's eye.

Seated in a state-of-the-art ergonomic chair near a massive,sunlit window was Harshvardhan Birla, looking impeccably haughty. Though he andManjari were now of the age of Naksh and Kirti, his energy was that of aperpetually dissatisfied CEO. Manjari Birla, traditional as ever, wasmeticulously arranging marigolds near a small, modern temple structure.

Ruhi (Approaching politely, feeling the warmth of their lovefor her): "Dida, Dadu. Namaste. Daksh and I just came to check on youafter the event last night."

Harsh lowered his transparent screen and squinted at Ruhi.

Harshvardhan: "Ah, Ruhi. My sensible girl. You looksharp. Now, about that NGCC event... They are celebrating a cultural center,but what did they really celebrate? The Akshara Goenka School of Music! Goodgrief. The only thing worse than a useless doctor is a tuntuna bajanewali whoencourages noise pollution."

Manjari stopped arranging the marigolds, her face tighteningwith a familiar, bitter distaste for the name.

Manjari (Her voice flat, tinged with regret):"Harshvardhanji, there is no need to bring up that name. The womanis gone, and her trauma is history."

Harshvardhan seized on her dismissive tone, his eyeslighting up with theatrical malice as he prepared to mock her poor judgment.

Harshvardhan (Snapping his head toward her, eyes wide withexaggerated horror): "Ah, 'history'! Manjari, I thought you hadconveniently forgotten that history! Badi jaldi bhool gayi? You were such a staunch, nauseating supporter of her… her 'melodies,' as you called them, foryears!"

He shot his hand up, adopting a ridiculously theatricalposture, and began singing—off-key and with utterly dramatic handmovements—staring directly at Manjari to taunt her for her previous loyalty tothe "enemy."

Harshvardhan (Wailing loudly, dramatically pointing atManjari): "🎶 Piya Tose Naina LaageRe! 🎶 Haaye Oh, the hours we spent enduring thatmelodrama! You and your beloved tuntuna-bahu singing those endless, tearfulduets in this very house! Aap toh usse Devi ki tarah poojti thi! I tell you, Ihad to triple the soundproofing in my study just to protect my cognitivefunctions from your poor, poor choice of bahu and music taste! That wasan auditory crime, Manjari!"

Harshvardhan then leaned back, his expression turning sourlydramatic, addressing Ruhi as if she were an auditor reviewing a defectiveinventory.

Harshvardhan: "Forget the music, Ruhi. Let's talk aboutthe quantifiable evidence! The medical charts! You see, that tuntuna bajanewaliwas not just a source of terrible singing; she was a medical calamity!"

He counted on his fingers with manic precision.

Harshvardhan: "First, Anisha—gone after being caught inher silence! Then, Neil—my own son, gone because she dragged him into herheroics without police backup! Then, our chief surgeon, Abhimanyu, gone in alandslide on her wedding day! And, finally, my poor daughter-in-law, Aarohi,gone too!"

He shuddered, then pointed an accusatory finger, his voiceescalating into a horrified lament.

Harshvardhan: "And the one who survived thechaos—Abhir! My grandson! Did he use that second chance to become a cardiac surgeon, to honor his father's medical legacy? No! He followed the panauti'spath! He became a rock-and-roll singer! A noise maker! As if the curse of the tuntuna was hereditary! It's an insult to the entire medical profession.Dr Birla ka beta is a genetic downgrade!"

Harshvardhan had collapsed back into his ergonomic chair,wailing softly over the hereditary curse of the tuntuna.

It was at this moment that Daksh, tired of being a silentwitness to his great-grandfather’s dramatic trauma, piped up brightly, lookingup from the steel sculpture.

Daksh (In his clear, internationally schooled voice):"Don't worry, Dadaji! I won't be a tuntuna maker like Abhir Mama.I am going to be a doctor! A brilliant one! Like Bade Dadu and Nani was, and like Shivansh Mamu is!"

The effect was instantaneous and electrifying. Harshvardhanstopped mid-wail, his despair dissolving into ecstatic pride. He shot upright,looking at Daksh with the adoration usually reserved for a gold-plated stockcertificate.

Harshvardhan (Leaning forward, his face absolutely beaming):"Haaye! Mera bachcha! See, Manjari? See the difference? That is pure Birlaintellect and genetic superiority speaking! The medical lineage is preserved!The curse has skipped a generation!"

He reached out and pulled Daksh into a tight, dramatic hug.

Harshvardhan: "You, my precious great-grandson, willsave this family's reputation! You will be a heart surgeon! No, wait, a neurosurgeon!No noise! Only silence, precision, and the beautiful, beautiful sound of aperfect six-figure consultation fee! I knew raising you was the best decision,Ruhi! Pure genius!"

Manjari offered a small, fond smile, relieved that thefamily's newest generation had managed to steer clear of Harshvardhan's currentlist of acceptable family disasters.

Ruhi smiled warmly at the immediate, theatrical adorationDaksh received. This was the unconditional, chaotic Birla love that madesurviving their criticism of everyone else just about tolerable.

Harshvardhan was still busy dramatically blessing Daksh’sfuture surgical hands. Manjari, seizing the small window of calm, moved closerto Ruhi, offering a genuine, warm smile—the one reserved for the family membersshe truly cherished.

Manjari (Speaking in a soft, normal tone, providing theessential updates): "He is such a bright boy, Ruhi. It’s lovely to seeyou. Don’t mind his Bade Dada; he’s justdoing his usual shokh (hobby) of performance art."

She gently touched Ruhi's arm.

Manjari: "Everything here is very steady. Shivansh isdoing marvelously as a heart surgeon; he and Vaani are running those chaotictwins, Jiya and Riya, ragged. Those two are quite the handful, but bright,thank God."

Manjari: "And Nishtha is finally settled. She’s asuccessful child specialist now, managing her own practice with Arvind handlingall the administration for the main hospital—you know how busy he keeps thefinance side. Their daughter, Mrinalini, is already studying gynecology atAIIMS in Delhi. That generation is all business and medicine, thankgoodness."

She lowered her voice slightly.

Manjari: "It was a disaster losing Anandvardhan,Mahima, and Parth in that crash, but Shefali is doing well. She is focused onher career and is now the Editor. Everyone is moving forward, Ruhi. Just a bitquieter now."

Ruhi nodded, absorbing the functional, positive report. TheBirlas might be dramatic, but they were efficient, always prioritizing careerand medicine, which was exactly the stability she valued.

Harshvardhan had just finished his dramatic adulation ofDaksh’s future neurosurgical career. He released the boy and straightened hisexpensive jacket, instantly shifting from doting great-grandfather tocalculating medical CEO.

Harshvardhan (His voice becoming serious and clinical):"Excellent. Now, Ruhi, a slight change of topic, but strictlyprofessional. We have heard quite a lot about your cousin, Dr. Kaira Goenka."

Ruhi tensed slightly, knowing any conversation about aGoenka in this house was high-risk.

Ruhi: "Yes, Dada? Kaira is doing very well with herprivate practice."

Harshvardhan (Scoffing slightly, but acknowledging thefacts): "Doing well? She’s a financial miracle! Her revenue streams areastonishing. I had my administration run the numbers—her Dr. Kaira's Hair andSkin Centre is grossing more than some of our satellite clinics! Badi shatirladki hai."

He tapped a precise rhythm on his desk, his medical mindworking quickly.

Harshvardhan: "Her cosmetic and aesthetic practice istop-tier. We need that profile. Birla Hospital needs a high-end CosmeticDermatology Division—it's a massive untapped market for our elite clientele. Tellme, Ruhi: Given her success, do you think Dr. Kaira would consider joining the BirlaHospital as a Consultant? We could offer her an absurd compensation package anda corner office with a better view than the Chief of Cardiology."

He lifted a single eyebrow, his challenge clear: would Kairachoose the financial freedom of her clinic or the ultimate prestige of theBirla name?

Harshvardhan: "Despite the... tragic musicallineage she shares with others (he glanced pointedly at Manjari), she isundeniably a world-class professional. Does she have any interest in upgradingher 'aesthetic centre' to the official Birla standard of excellence? Think ofthe prestige, Ruhi."

Ruhi held his gaze, knowing this was a key piece ofinformation to take back to Kairav and Muskan.

Ruhi: "I can ask, Dada. Kaira is very focused on herindependence, but I will certainly convey the offer."

The atmosphere inside Dr. Kaira's Hair and Skin Centre was adeliberate exercise in aesthetic calm. The walls were textured charcoal andsoft cream, illuminated by hidden strip lighting that gave everything aflattering glow. The air was cool, scented with a precise blend of sandalwoodand tea tree oil, masking any clinical smells. Every surface—from the quartzreception desk to the leather seating—spoke of quiet, expensive confidence.

Kaira herself emerged from the laser treatment wing,spotless in her custom-tailored white coat. She had just completed a trickysession, and the professional adrenaline was still humming beneath her calmexterior.

Kaira (Reviewing a chart with her head nurse, her voice calmand precise): "Increase the depth on the fractional setting for Ms.Sharma's next session. Her collagen response is excellent, but we need totarget the sub-dermal layer aggressively. And confirm the appointment for thenew CEO of Mittal Corp tomorrow morning; he needs the microneedling done beforethe market opens."

She moved towards the reception area, which functioned withflawless efficiency. The lead receptionist, Meera, was handling three linessimultaneously with a tranquil smile.

Kaira (Pausing at the desk, offering a genuine smile):"Meera, the schedule flow today was perfect. Great work."

Meera: "Thank you, Dr. Kaira. We just try to keep upwith your demand! Mrs. Singhania complimented the new eye cream sample you gaveher."

Kaira nodded, pleased. She glanced at a tiered shelf nearthe back, stacked with sleek, minimalist bottles—her own exclusive,high-efficacy skincare line.

Kaira: "That reminds me. It’s been a high-stress week,and you all deserve a little compensation beyond your bonuses."

She turned to Meera and the two other staff memberspresent—a therapist and a junior nurse—her hands sweeping toward the productshelf.

Kaira: "Take whatever you need. The Vitamin C Elixirfor radiance, the Repair Night Cream for recovery. Everything up there isyours. Consider it mandatory self-care. I expect my team to look just aspristine as my clients."

The staff members exchanged delighted, grateful glances.These products retailed for exorbitant amounts, reflecting Kaira's dedicationto quality.

Therapist: "Thank you so much, ma'am! The Night Creamis magical."

Kaira (Giving a brief, professional nod): "It'seffective. Now, I need to review tomorrow's inventory. I'll be in my office. Ifthe Mittal call comes in, patch it directly."

Kaira walked away, leaving behind a brief burst of warmthand generosity. In her Centre, she was the ultimate authority—a self-madesuccess earning crazy amounts, proving that her intelligence and ambition werebest channeled into a field where results were visible, measurable, andentirely dependent on her skill, not on family politics.

Later that afternoon, the quiet hum of professionalism inthe clinic faded as Kaira retreated to her private office. She opened herlaptop and navigated to the business dashboard.

The screen glowed, displaying the current financial overviewof Dr. Kaira's Hair and Skin Centre.

Kaira took a sip of her artisanal organic green tea. Sheglanced at the Total Balance figure and immediately choked, spraying a finemist of jasmine-scented tea onto her monitor.

She quickly grabbed a sterile wipe and leaned in, rereadingthe astronomical number.

Kaira (Eyes wide, speaking to her reflection in the darkscreen): "What in the tax evasion hell is this? Did Mrs.Shikarwataccidentally pay with her entire Swiss account for that one freckleconsultation?"

She zoomed in, verifying the figures. It was all real. Itwas an astonishing number, far surpassing any reasonable target. The revenuewas entirely the result of catering to the micro-insecurities of the elite.

A sudden, wide, almost maniacal grin broke across Kaira'sface.

Kaira (Clutching her chest dramatically): "Oh, my God.I am bathing in liquid gold! This is what you get when you charge a five-figuresum just to tell a maharani that her skin is 'epidermally adequate'! My mehnat(hard work) paid off, lekin iss mehnat mein toh paagalpan ki royalty bhi shamilhai!

She punched the air softly.

Kaira: "I should send Rani sa a thank-you note! Ekmillimetre freckle ki itni high value? I think I might actually start believingin cosmetic miracles! With this kind of money, I don't need Aaryan or thePoddar alliance; I could buy the whole Poddar Mansion and turn it into a Catand Dogs rejuvenation spa!"

She threw her head back and let out a single, sharp burst oflaughter.

Then, just as quickly, she slapped her hands onto the desk,smoothing her perfect coat. She inhaled deeply, straightening her expressionback into the mask of the calm, calculating doctor.

Kaira (To her laptop, sternly): "Okay, Ms. Kaira.Compose yourself. That money is for acquisition and expansion. No morelaughing. Now, let’s see the quarterly reports on the anti-aging serum, that’swhere the real paise ka sukoon is."

The Palatial Goenka Diamonds office, located on the highestfloor of the Goenka tower, was a study in cold, reflective power. Late eveninglight cast long shadows over the highly polished mahogany table where Kairavand Muskan sat. The city skyline was their silent witness.

Kairav had just finished reviewing the financial andpersonal background reports—including Ruhi’s indirect feedback about the Poddarenvironment.

Kairav (Closing the file with a decisive snap): "Thedecision is made, Muskan. We are not proceeding with the marriage."

Muskan (Her face set in hard lines): "Absolutely not.The risk assessment is catastrophic. We chose Aaryan for his mind, but hisfamily’s toxicity is genetic. He is not a clever asset; he is a contaminatedproduct. He is 'another Armaan,' and we will not sacrifice Kaira to that cycleof deception and chaos again."

Muskan leaned forward, her hands resting on the cool surfaceof the table. Her protective instincts, usually channeled into business, werenow entirely focused on her niece.

Muskan: "Lekin hum seedhe-seedhe mana nahin kar sakteKaira needs to make this decision herself. She is marrying Aaryan for areason—to prove she is strong enough to control her life. If we simply 'rescue'her, she will resent us. She needs to see his reality."

Kairav (A grim smile touching his lips, recognizing thenecessity of the performance): "So, the alliance goes forward... as a natak(drama/act). We will use the engagement to smoke him out."

Muskan: "Exactly. We will go to the Poddars, act likewe are desperate for this union, and push the preparations aggressively. Thepressure will be immense. Wohi pressure Aaryan ko tod dega. His true, weak,Poddar-like flaws will surface. His controlling nature, his insecurity everythingwe noticed but ignored."

Kairav raised his hand in a slow, solemn gesture, mirroringhis wife.

Kairav: "We will give her the evidence. We will makehim reveal the monster we suspect is hiding inside. And when Kaira sees it, shewill not need us to tell her to walk away. Woh khud Aaryan ko apni zindagi seeject karegi.”

Muskan (Her voice hardening with the final vow): "Kasoorsirf uska hi nahin hoga, Kairav The fault will be in his bloodline. This natakstarts tomorrow. No more sentimentality. We are protecting our family."

The two most powerful members of the Goenka family hadreached an agreement. They would initiate a full-scale covert operation,turning Kaira’s engagement into a controlled experiment designed to expose thefiancé and secure their daughter's freedom.

Harshu ka sheer sarcasm on art is always 🪒 sharp..... But it wouldn't hurt if he lightened it or start enjoying arts rather than addressing it as simple noise......

Would be waiting for more exploration of Birla's...... I wanted to ask you keep Parth as genuine charecter as he was introduced in show..... Waiting for the more information on how the two great doc's (Anandhi,Mahima) & Parth..... Cute little dakshu assuring his Bade nanu of becoming doctor unlike his Mama is 🤣🤣, i thought he would say he wants to be an attorney like his paternal family

So finally Kairav-Muskaan making the steady plan to secure their daughter is so elegant.....

Waiting for the parts how Ruhi & AbhiR met Birla's after they moved to Japan

cant wait for more parts... As always you are such brilliant writer 😍

Lol harsh's taunts about akthu tuntuna🤣🤣🤣😘😘 missed you. And Manju should burst out in akthu bashing soon. Maza ayega husband wife bonding over it

Aee harshu fawning over future daksh birla the dr😘😘🤣🤣🤣 more harshu dakshu scenes please

Muskan kairav needs to arrange another party where poddars embarrass themselves and kaira understand Aryan won't be able to handle them. There is no need to prove her independence by marrying into psycho family

Harsh can help cause tuntuna ki beti k ghar mein kaira going will be waste of resources lol

Lol what legacy and family name bageera even talking about. She knows nothing about the man. Does she even know muskan is a muh boli behen? Or how nav found akthu? Kuch v. Also her surname love is for akthu not for nav.

Originally posted by: A_Star39

I am a beggar na?

i will insult abhinav ji a lot.

Sorry🤭

Ladies next part dropping today

Did I mention it earlier? Or u assumed it🤣

Good chapter thought...loved kiara's part...her professional and thinking

Part 13:The Pink Suit's Price

Aaryan Poddar arrived at the Goenka Mansion, expecting congratulations and final wedding details. Instead, he found Kairav and Muskan seated opposite him at a massive, polished mahogany table, their expressions calm but intense.

Kairav (Cutting straight to the point, leaving no room for small talk): "Aaryan, we are accelerating the timeline. Kaira is a business powerhouse; she does not do drawn-out engagements. We want the wedding within the month. No delays."

Aaryan was momentarily taken aback by the speed, but quicklyadjusted, pleased by their sudden enthusiasm.

Aaryan: "That's wonderful, Kairav uncle. I entirelyagree. The sooner Kaira is part of the family, the better."

Muskan (Her voice dangerously smooth, leaning forward):"Exactly. 'Part of the family' is the key phrase. Now, Aaryan, we need todiscuss something essential before we take this forward."

She let the silence stretch, forcing Aaryan to wait for thedemand.

Muskan: "We are Goenkas. When Kaira marries, the worldknows it. But more importantly, her husband’s family must be equally dedicatedto her status. We saw the chaos at your event the other night—the disrespect,the loud outbursts from your Taiji and Dadi. It showed a lack of control,Aaryan."

Kairav (Slamming his hand lightly on the table, ratchetingup the pressure): "Badi baat bol rahe hain humWe are giving you thegreatest asset of the Goenka family—Dr. Kaira Goenka. Before we publiclyannounce this accelerated timeline, we need absolute assurance."

He fixed Aaryan with a stare that brooked no resistance.

Kairav: "We need you to go to your family—your Dadi Sa,your Taiji, your father—and make a clear, forceful, public declaration. Tellthem that Kaira is your life, that she is their future, and that if anyonedisrespects her or her family again, there will be serious, immediateconsequences. You need to declare your love and your dominance over the Poddarchaos. Right now. Today."

Aaryan flushed, recognizing the direct challenge to hisauthority, but also sensing the opportunity to prove his worth to the powerfulGoenkas.

Aaryan (Rising quickly, his tone decisive): "Considerit done. They will know Kaira is my priority. My family will understand thatthis alliance cannot be questioned. I will go to Poddar Mansion right now andspeak to them."

Kairav and Muskan watched him leave, exchanging a cold,knowing look. The first layer of pressure was successfully applied.

Ruhi, looking impeccable in a crisp business suit, kneltbeside Daksh, who was clutching his favorite dinosaur action figure in theplush, overly sterile reception area of Birla HospitalShe was surrounded by asmall mountain of supplies: a bright blue backpack, a cooler bag for snacks, awater bottle, and a clearly labeled emergency contact card. Harshvardhan’simposing figure loomed nearby, reviewing a financial report on a transparenttablet.

Ruhi (To Daksh, voice firm but gentle): "Daksh,remember what we discussed. Dadaji is showing you all the amazing parts of thehospital. Be a very good boy. No running near the operating theaters,okay?"

Daksh (Eyes wide with excitement): "Okay, Mumma! I'mgoing to find all the bad germs like Bade nanu said! And maybe see a realbrain!"

Harshvardhan lowered his tablet, a look of profound, almostsurgical, pride on his face.

Harshvardhan: "Precisely! He understands the mission.This boy will be absorbing pure, unadulterated medical excellence today!"He gestured dismissively at the pile of supplies. "Aur yeh saara samaankisliye? We have a cafeteria with nutritional supplements! This is a hospital,Ruhi, not a picnic!"

Ruhi ignored him, placing the blue backpack firmly in hishands.

Ruhi (A quick, detailed instruction): "Dadu, this hashis allergen-free snacks, his reading book, and his emergency contact card. Thered pouch contains antiseptic wipes—please use them. And the cooler bag hasjuice, not coffee, Dadu!"

Harshvardhan held the backpack as if it were contaminatedmedical waste.

Harshvardhan (Sniffing with disdain): "Fine. I willtolerate the sugar contamination for the sake of science. Today, I willpersonally ensure this boy learns the fundamental difference between a useless tuntuna)and a life-saving injection! “

Ruhi swallowed hard, knowing the lecture was inevitable. Shequickly hugged Daksh, then backed away towards the exit. Just before steppingout, she stopped, bowed her head, and pressed her hands together, whisperingfuriously toward the ceiling.

Ruhi (Her desperate prayer, rapid-fire): "Matashree,Poppy, Dad! Please! I know Dadaji loves me and Daksh, but you know how dramatiche is. Poppy, please use your Chief Surgeon influence from heaven! Matashree,please give me your inner strength! And Dad, please, for the love of God, don'tlet him traumatize my son! No accidental scalpels, no lectures on the sevenstages of medical failure, and please, keep the words 'Akshu' and 'panauti'far, far away from my genius boy! Just bring him back psychologically intact!Amen!"

She then squared her shoulders, forced a business-likecomposure back onto her face, and vanished through the automatic doors, leavingher sanity, and her son, in the highly dramatic, but surprisingly capable,hands of Harshvardhan Birla.

Kaira stood before a full-length mirror, making the finaladjustments to her outfit. She was wearing a perfectly tailored pale pinktrouser suit—a modern choice that blended feminine authority with corporatesharpness. The fabric was crisp, the lines severe, a deliberate rejection ofthe flowy ethnic wear favored by her older relatives. She wore minimal jewelry:a simple platinum necklace and her diamond stud earrings, nothing that woulddistract from her expertise.

Kaira (Examining her reflection, a slight, determinedsmile): "The Birla Hospital. The gold standard. This is not just aboutmoney; this is about unassailable medical prestige."

She picked up a small, sleek black leather file containingthe analyzed proposal from Harshvardhan. Her mind was already runningprojections: the patient referrals, the access to international research, thesheer power of adding the Birla affiliation to her own formidable reputation.

She considered the pink suit. It wasn’t the aggressive redor corporate navy that Muskan preferred; it was a calibrated choice. It said: Iam successful, I am feminine, and I am entirely in control of this negotiation.

Kaira (Internal Monologue): " Harshvardhan Birla justoffered me the keys to his kingdom because of my skill. This partnership willsolidify my position as an institution, completely independent of the thePoddar family’s messy drama."

She applied a final touch of matte lipstick—a shade thatmatched the subtle hue of her suit—and checked her phone. No urgentnotifications. The Centre was running like a well-oiled machine in her absence.

She took a deep breath, the subtle scent of her expensiveperfume filling the air. She wasn't nervous; she was primed. This was her war,and her weapon was professional excellence.

She grabbed her designer handbag, which contained nothingbut her keys, her proposal notes, and her clinic’s latest financial statement(just in case she needed a reminder of her existing power).

With a final, confident nod to her reflection, Dr. KairaGoenka turned and walked out, ready to conquer the most prestigious medicalempire in the city. The Birla Hospital appointment was her real engagement—toher career.

Harshvardhan walked with a strut that commanded absoluterespect from the staff, holding Daksh’s tiny hand. Instead of the snacks Ruhipacked, Harshvardhan had produced a foil-wrapped, dense "Neuro-PrecisionEnergy Bar"—a dark, gritty, industrial-looking square.

Harshvardhan (Beaming): "Eat this, my boy! Throw awaythat silly granola bar your mother packed. This is a Surgeon's Focus Bar! Itcontains omega-3s, cognitive enhancers, and enough protein for a seven-hourcranial surgery! You need your brain to be electric today!"

Daksh took a tiny, hesitant bite and made a face.

Daksh: "It tastes like dirt and vitamins, Dadu."

Harshvardhan: "It tastes like superior cognitivefunction, Daksh! It tastes like a perfect IQ score! Now, come."

He stopped a terrifyingly busy Chief Nurse in the hallway.

Harshvardhan (Barking): "Nurse! Fetch a pediatric labcoat! Size Extra-Small! And a real stethoscope! None of those plastic toys. Mygreat-grandson needs to hear the Lubb-Dub of excellence, not some squeakynonsense!"

Minutes later, Daksh was drowning in a white coat thatdragged on the floor, a Littmann stethoscope hanging around his neck like aheavy gold chain. Harshvardhan looked at him with tears of pride in his eyes.

Harshvardhan: "Haaye! Look at you. You look morecompetent than half my interns. Come, let me show you the RealDisneyland."

He marched Daksh past the colourful Pediatric Ward without asecond glance.

Harshvardhan: "Ignore the cartoons, Daksh. Cartoons arefor the weak. We are going to the Main OT (Operation Theatre) Gallery! The VIPbox!"

They took the private elevator up. Harshvardhan swiped hiscard, and the glass doors slid open to reveal the Observation Deck looking downinto an active operating theatre.

Harshvardhan (Whispering dramatically): "Behold, Daksh!The symphony of the scalpel! Dr. Mehta is performing a bypass. Look at theprecision! Look at the incision!"

Down below, the surgeons were fully engaged. There wasblood. There were retractors holding a chest cavity open. And then, the surgeonpicked up a bone saw.

WHIRRRRRRR.

The sound of the saw cutting through the sternum echoedthrough the speakers.

Daksh froze. His eyes went wide. His bottom lip began totremble. The sight of the blood and the sound of the saw was not"cool" to a five-year-old; it was the stuff of nightmares.

Daksh (Voice wobbling): "Bade nanu... he is... he iscutting him..."

Harshvardhan (Oblivious, tapping the glass excitedly):"Yes! It’s the Sternotomy! The gateway to the heart! Look at the bloodflow, Daksh! It’s magnificent! It’s—"

WAAAAAAHHHHHH!

Daksh erupted into a loud, terrified wail, burying his facein the oversized lab coat.

Daksh (Crying): "Momm bacchao,mummaaa!!"

Harshvardhan froze, panicked. He looked around the emptyobservation deck as if searching for a mute button on the child.

Harshvardhan: "No, no! Daksh! Stop! Why are yourlacrimal glands overacting? This is science! It’s not scary; it’sbillable!"

He knelt down, trying to console the boy, but his version ofcomfort was... unique.

Harshvardhan (Patting Daksh’s head awkwardly): "Daksh,beta, listen to me. Don't cry. Crying dehydrates you. Think of the logic! Thatman is sleeping! He feels nothing! It’s just... mechanics! Like fixing a car,but wetter!"

Daksh cried harder.

Daksh: "I want to go"

Harshvardhan sighed deeply, looking visibly disappointed,and muttered to himself.

Harshvardhan: "Oh God. It’s the genes. The tuntunagenes have activated. This is Akshara's emotional DNA interfering with my Birlaresilience! He’s having a sentimental reaction to a standard incision!"

He grabbed Daksh by the shoulders, looking him dead in theeye.

Harshvardhan: "Daksh! Look at me! You are a Birla! Wedo not fear blood; we analyze it! We charge for it! Stop crying, or yourelectrolytes will drop!"

Daksh sniffled, looking at his grandfather's panicked face.

Harshvardhan (Softening, realizing he needed a distraction):"Okay, okay. Fine. The surgery is 'scary.' Fine. I accept yourunscientific assessment."

He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, scrollingfrantically.

Harshvardhan: "Chup ho jaao (Quiet down). I know whatwill cheer you up. Forget the heart surgery. Come with Dadu to the AnatomyMuseum in the basement."

He wiped Daksh’s tears with the sleeve of his expensivesuit.

Harshvardhan (Whispering conspiratorially): "I have areal human skeleton named Mr. Bones down there. And... (he paused for effect)... a jar with a brain inside it. It floats! Much better than this bloody mess,na?"

Daksh sniffled, intrigued. "A floating brain?"

Harshvardhan (Standing up, relieved): "Yes! A floatingbrain! Very peaceful. No noise. Very clean. Come, let’s go see the dead peopleparts. They are much friendlier."

He quickly ushered Daksh away from the window, muttering,"Next time, we start with Dermatology. Less blood, more creams. Step bystep, Harshvardhan. Step by step."

The black Goenka Mercedes didn't just pull up to the curb;it docked like a sleek ocean liner against a concrete pier.

Inside, Kaira checked her reflection in the rearview mirrorone last time. Not for vanity, but for armor plating. The pale pink trousersuit was impeccable—not a crease, not a stray thread. It was tailored within aninch of its life, sharp enough to cut glass. Her hair was a disciplined, glossyhelmet of perfection.

She took a breath, inhaling the filtered AC air of the car,preparing for the scent of antiseptic and judgment.

Kaira (Internal Monologue): "Okay. Game face. You arenot Kaira the niece, or Kaira the fiancée. You are Dr. Goenka, the aestheticrevenue stream they are desperate to acquire. Walk like you own the building,even if you're just visiting."

She didn't wait for the driver. She pushed the heavy dooropen.

First contact: The point of a nude, patent leather JimmyChoo stiletto hit the pavement.

Clack.

She stepped out, rising to her full height, snapping heroversized designer sunglasses onto her face despite being indoors. She grabbedher structured Hermès bag—containing the proposal that was worth millions—likeit was a nuclear football.

She walked toward the massive glass sliding doors.

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

The rhythm was precise, militaristic, and impossibly fastfor heels that high. It was the sound of an approaching deadline.

The automatic doors hissed open, and the hospital noise—theintercom pages, the shuffling feet, the low murmur of worried relatives—seemedto hiccup.

Kaira entered the lobby. The air temperature dropped tendegrees.

It wasn't just her beauty; it was the sheer, aggressivepolish of her presence in a place usually defined by scrubs and exhaustion. Shecut through the sterile environment like a scalpel through gauze.

A cluster of medical interns near the reception desk stoppedtalking mid-sentence, their eyes widening as this vision in weaponized pastelstrode past. A junior resident carrying a stack of files actually stumbled,papers fluttering to the floor.

Kaira didn't break stride. She didn't even turn her head.She just kept moving toward the elevators, her gaze fixed on a point somewherebeyond the mortal realm of the ground floor.

Kaira (Internal Monologue): "Eyes up. Chin parallel tothe floor. Don't look at the chaos; you are above the chaos. You are the curefor the chaos."

A flustered young administrator with a clipboard, clearlysent by Harshvardhan's office to intercept her, practically jogged to catch up.

Administrator (Breathless, slightly terrified): "Dr.Goenka! Dr. Kaira! Welcome! We weren't expecting you for another four minutes.Dr. Harshvardhan is just finishing a—"

Kaira stopped abruptly near the VIP elevators. The suddensilence of her heels was more intimidating than the sound. She slowly removedher sunglasses, fixing the young man with a cool, clinical assessment that madehim wither.

Kaira (Voice calm, low, and terrifyingly smooth): "Iknow where his office is. Top floor. Cardiology wing adjacent. And I'm notearly. I'm precisely on time for efficiency."

She pressed the elevator call button with a perfectlymanicured finger.

Kaira: "You can tell him I'm ascending now. And do findsomeone to pick up those files that resident dropped. It looks messy."

The elevator doors slid open. Kaira stepped inside themirrored box, turning to face the lobby as the doors began to close. For asplit second, she caught her reflection in the closing steel doors—perfect pinkagainst the cold grey of the hospital.

The doors shut, sealing her in. The ascent to the Birlathrone room began.

The VIP elevator doors slid open with a near-silent whoosh.Kaira stepped out, ready to dominate, her pink power suit a beacon of calmauthority in the sterile hallway.

She took exactly three confident clicks down the marblecorridor before she nearly tripped over something small and white huddled neara potted plant.

It was a child. Drowning in an oversized lab coat, staringblankly at a plastic femur bone.

Kaira (Stopping abruptly, a flicker of genuine confusionbreaking her mask): "Excuse me? Are we allowing unsupervised minors in theexecutive wing now?"

The child looked up. It was Daksh.

Daksh (Blinking innocently): "Hello, Kaira Maasi. I’mstudying. Dadu showed me a man getting his chest cut open with a saw, and thenwe saw a brain in a jar. It was very...educational."

Kaira felt a genuine shiver run down her spine that hadnothing to do with the hospital air conditioning.

Kaira (Horrified whisper): "A saw? And a... brain in ajar? Daksh, what kind of—"

Before she could process the trauma being inflicted on hernephew, a booming, highly dramatic voice echoed down the hall.

Harshvardhan: "Daksh! There you are, my littleNeuro-operative! Did you locate the Patella yet?"

Harshvardhan Birla strode into view. He was older now, hishair silver, but his energy was still that of a highly caffeinated, perpetuallydissatisfied CEO. He stopped short when he saw the vision in pink standing overhis great-grandson.

He squinted at her, his expression shifting from manicgrandfather to dismissive patriarch.

Harshvardhan: "Ah. You arrived. Dr. Kaira Goenka."

He said "Goenka" the way one might say"fungal infection."

Kaira (Recovering her poise instantly): "Dr. Birla. Apleasure. Though I admit, finding my young nephew traumatized by surgicalequipment in the hallway wasn't on my agenda."

Harshvardhan (Waving his hand dismissively):"Traumatized? Nonsense. He’s being inoculated against weakness! Unlikesome branches of this family tree, we Birlas prefer fortitude."

He looked her up and down, unimpressed by the aestheticperfection.

Harshvardhan: "Well. You look... expensive. Typical.You are Kairav's daughter, yes?Tuntunewale ki bhatiji. I suppose you’re here totalk about 'feelings' and 'inner beauty' in my hospital?"

Kaira fought the urge to roll her eyes so hard they’d getstuck. This man was cartoonishly abrasive. He was currently absentmindedlyclicking a bone-saw shaped pen. It was deeply weird.

Kaira (Internal Monologue): "Okay, he’s eccentricbordering on unhinged. Ruhi di wasn'tkidding. Focus on the goal. Ignore the creepy pen."

Kaira (Aloud, her voice cool and razor-sharp): "Dr.Birla, let's be clear. I don't deal in 'feelings.' I deal in epidermis,collagen, and the desperate desire of the wealthy to defy gravity. My clinicisn't a hobby; it's a high-margin aesthetic empire. I’m here because you wantthat revenue stream attached to your name."

Harshvardhan stopped clicking his pen. He blinked. Thereference to "high-margin revenue" acted like a smelling salt.

Harshvardhan (His posture straightening, intrigue replacingdisdain): "High-margin, you say? Hmm. You speak less like a Goenka andmore like a... well, a sensible person. Come with me."

He grabbed Daksh’s hand and practically marched Kaira downthe hall towards a set of large double doors at the very end of the wing.

Harshvardhan: "You want to see where your empire willsit? Behold."

He threw the doors open with theatrical flair.

It was a massive, dusty, disused wing of the hospital.Sunlight streamed in through dirty windows, illuminating scattered chairs andold acoustic foam panels peeling off the walls. In the corner, a dusty, brokenguitar lay propped against a wall.

Harshvardhan pointed at the guitar with undisguised glee.

Harshvardhan: "Do you know what this was, Dr. Kaira?This was the 'Music Therapy Wing.' My son, Abhimanyu, built this mandir to do pooja paath of that tuntunewali bua of yours. For years, this prime real estate was wasted on... strumming and humming."

He turned to Kaira, his eyes shining with vindictive triumph.

Harshvardhan: "I am gutting it. Every last acoustic tile goes in the trash. No more tuntuna. We are replacing sentimental noise with hard, cold, injectable science. Your science. We will turn this emotional wasteland into the 'Birla Centre for Aesthetic Excellence'."

Kaira looked around the dusty room. It was creepy how muchjoy he took in erasing the past, but professionally? It was a blank canvas. Avery large, very expensive blank canvas.

Kaira (Walking into the room, her heels clicking on thedusty floor): "The square footage is adequate. I'll need northern lightexposure for the consultation rooms, marble flooring, not this vinyl, and aprivate elevator access for my high-profile clientele. They don't like walkingthrough general admissions."

Harshvardhan (Grinning, actually impressed by her demands):"Done. We understand the needs of the elite. Now, the proposal I sent you.The standard consultant fee split is 60/40 in the hospital's favor, given weare providing the infrastructure and the brand name."

Kaira stopped walking. She turned slowly to face him,removing her sunglasses to level a direct, unblinking stare at the seniorBirla.

Kaira (Her voice drop-dead serious): "Dr. Birla, youaren't just buying my skill. You are buying my entire existing client list—thetop 1% of Udaipur who currently wouldn't step foot in a general hospital.You're buying instant profitability in a sector you currently have zeropresence in."

She paused, letting the silence stretch. Harshvardhan lookedat her, fascinated by this creature who looked like a delicate flower butnegotiated like a shark.

Kaira: "I'm not a junior consultant. I'm a partner. Iwant an 70/30 split on all non-surgical procedures performed in this wing, inmy favor. And 10% equity in the wing's branding rights."

Harshvardhan’s jaw actually dropped. He nearly droppedDaksh’s hand. A Goenka... asking for 70%? And equity?

For a moment, Kaira thought he might yell. He looked like hewas malfunctioning.

Then, slowly, a massive, genuine grin spread acrossHarshvardhan’s face. He looked at her not as Akshara’s niece, but as a kindred,money-hungry spirit.

Harshvardhan (Whispering in awe): "Haaye. Seventypercent?Kitnilaalchi ho tum. It’s predatory. It’s absolutely unethical commercialism."

He slapped his hand on a dusty table, kicking up a cloud ofdirt.

Harshvardhan (Roaring with laughter): "I LOVE IT! Youare no tuntunewali! You are a shark in a pink suit! Agreed! Draw up the papers.Welcome to Birla Hospital, Dr. Kaira. We are going to make a killingtogether!"

Kaira allowed herself a small, satisfied smirk. She had justsecured the deal of a lifetime, impressed the craziest man in Udaipur, andsecured her independence, all without a single mention of Aaryan Poddar.

Now, she just needed to get out of there before he showedher the brain in the jar.

Kaira was back in her office at the Centre, the BirlaHospital proposal spread out on her desk. She was still riding the high of hernegotiation, her mind already buzzing with design ideas for the new Dermatologywing. The 80/20 split was a massive coup, proof of her undeniable professionalvalue.

She picked up her phone to call Aaryan, a rare impulse. Shegenuinely wanted to share this triumphant news.

Kaira (On the phone, her voice bright with suppressedexcitement): "Aaryan, I have incredible news! My meeting with HarshvardhanBirla... it went better than I could have imagined. I've signed on as the Headof the new Birla Centre for Aesthetic Excellence!"

She paused, expecting his effusive congratulations, perhapsa proud, "My brilliant fiancée!"

Instead, there was a beat of silence on the other end,followed by a light, brittle laugh. It wasn't a joyful sound.

Aaryan (His tone subtly shifting, a practiced ease maskingan underlying discomfort): "The Birla Hospital? Kaira, that's...interesting. Lekin ab uski kya zaroorat thi? Your clinic is doing so well onits own. Why complicate things?"

Kaira felt a prick of irritation. Complicate things?

Kaira: "Complicate? Aaryan, this isn't complication,this is professional elevation! It's prestige, cutting-edge research, andunmatched growth! My Centre will be integrated as a top-tier consultantdivision under the most respected medical brand in the city. It'sphenomenal!"

Aaryan (His voice smooth, almost condescending, as ifexplaining something simple to a child): "Exactly, corporate.Jaan, we arePoddars. We own the corporate world; we don't clock in for it. Once we aremarried, Kaira, your name will already carry the weight of my family's legacy. "

He continued, his words framed as gentle advice, butcarrying the subtle, insistent weight of an instruction.

Aaryan: "This Birla job... it sounds like a lot ofextra effort and late nights. And the Birlas, you know, they're so dramatic.Hamari family mein itna sab nahin chaltaWe need you focused on our new home,our family life, and maintaining your beauty standards. Why use up energyfighting over hospital politics when you can peacefully manage your own clinicas you are? I prefer my wife to be a CEO of her own home and......... her own clinic"

The words hung in the air: not a competing consultant...extra effort... CEO of her own home. Kaira felt a sickening chill. He hadn'tcelebrated her success; he had subtly, expertly, and immediately diminished it.He was already trying to confine her, to shrink her ambitions into a"Poddar bahu" mold.

The hunch was planted. He wasn't rejecting the Birla offerfor her sake, or for status reasons; he was rejecting it because he preferred awife who was slightly less powerful, slightly more compliant, and entirelyfocused on his domestic sphere.

Kaira (Her voice flat, carefully neutral): "I see.Well, the papers are signed, Aaryan. It's a done deal. I'm the Head ofDermatology at Birla Hospital."

She ended the call before he could respond, her triumphturning sour. The pink power suit suddenly felt like a target.

Abhir's small, modern music studio in a quieter part ofUdaipur. The space is filled with the warm glow of monitor screens and thecomplex wiring of his soundboards.

Ruhi sat quietly on a stool beside a massive synthesizer,waiting for Abhir to finish adjusting a track. He looked relaxed, completely inhis element—a world away from the starched collars and strict schedules of the Birla Hospital.

Ruhi (Smiling softly as the track fades): "It's beautiful, Abhir. Very different from the Piya Tose melodrama Dada keeps complaining about."

Abhir (Smiling warmly at his sister): "Ruhi! Whatbrings the corporate lawyer to the noisy pit? Did Dada finally send you toconfiscate my instruments?"

Ruhi: "No. I came because of him... because ofDocman." She looked at the small, slightly dusty photograph of AbhimanyuBirla Abhir kept discreetly tucked behind a speaker. "And also because of Matashree, and Papa."

Abhir (Sighing, touching the picture): "I know, RU. Butthat life... the Birlas... it’s too much pain, too much drama. I love Dada andDida, but I can't be part of the medical chaos. I chose the simple, peaceful life that Abhinav Papa gave us. This is clean; it's just sound."

Ruhi: "But your connection to Docman isn't chaos; it’slegacy. It's not about becoming a doctor, it's about acknowledging where yourstrength comes from. Docman saved lives, and he had a fire in him, Billa Boy.You have that fire. Don't let your mom’s shadow completely erase Docman’sreality. They miss you."

Abhir: "I miss them too, Ru. But what would I even do there? I’m a musician, not a surgeon. I have no place at the hospital."

Ruhi slid off the stool and moved to stand directly in frontof him, her voice firm with love and clear-eyed logic.

Ruhi: "You have a place because you are his son. And weneed you. We need you to anchor to us, Abhir. You've spent too long isolatingyourself, pushing away everything good and stable."

She paused, taking a deep breath, knowing this next partwould hurt, but was necessary.

Ruhi: "You need to look ahead. You know this month...it's been a year since Charu..."

Abhir's face immediately tightened, his usual easy-goingexpression dissolving into a familiar, deep grief. He looked away, focusing intensely on the flashing lights of his mixing board.

Abhir (Voice tight): "Ru, please. Don't."

Ruhi (Gently, but persistent): "I have to, Abhir. Iloved Charu. We all did. She was beautiful, and she brought you so much joyafter all the darkness. She was the one who tied you to the Poddar family,however complicated that relationship was. She was Krish, Armaan, and Aaryan'ssister. Her death was tragic, and the grief is still heavy—especially foryou."

She placed a comforting hand on his arm.

Ruhi: "But it has been a year, Abhir. One whole year.You honored her memory by stepping away and healing, but you cannot let griefdefine your future. You need to open your heart again, Billa Boy. Not just tous, but to life. Docman wouldn't want you stuck here, and neither would Charu.Move on. Reconnect. It's time."

Abhir stared at the picture of Abhimanyu, then back at hissister. The weight of his adopted father's love, his birth father's legacy, andhis late wife's memory settled heavily around him. Ruhi hadn't given him aneasy answer, but she had given him permission to choose life.

Abhir (After a long moment, nodding slowly): "I hear you, Ru. Bas kuch waqt de do. (Just give me some time.)"

Ruhi smiled, a small victory won. She knew that time, for a Birla, meant action.

Part 13 is out ladies!

Originally posted by: A_Star39

Part 13:The Pink Suit's Price

Aaryan Poddar arrived at the Goenka Mansion, expecting congratulations and final wedding details. Instead, he found Kairav and Muskan seated opposite him at a massive, polished mahogany table, their expressions calm but intense.

Kairav (Cutting straight to the point, leaving no room for small talk): "Aaryan, we are accelerating the timeline. Kaira is a business powerhouse; she does not do drawn-out engagements. We want the wedding within the month. No delays."

Aaryan was momentarily taken aback by the speed, but quicklyadjusted, pleased by their sudden enthusiasm.

Aaryan: "That's wonderful, Kairav uncle. I entirelyagree. The sooner Kaira is part of the family, the better."

Muskan (Her voice dangerously smooth, leaning forward):"Exactly. 'Part of the family' is the key phrase. Now, Aaryan, we need todiscuss something essential before we take this forward."

She let the silence stretch, forcing Aaryan to wait for thedemand.

Muskan: "We are Goenkas. When Kaira marries, the worldknows it. But more importantly, her husband’s family must be equally dedicatedto her status. We saw the chaos at your event the other night—the disrespect,the loud outbursts from your Taiji and Dadi. It showed a lack of control,Aaryan."

Kairav (Slamming his hand lightly on the table, ratchetingup the pressure): "Badi baat bol rahe hain humWe are giving you thegreatest asset of the Goenka family—Dr. Kaira Goenka. Before we publiclyannounce this accelerated timeline, we need absolute assurance."

He fixed Aaryan with a stare that brooked no resistance.

Kairav: "We need you to go to your family—your Dadi Sa,your Taiji, your father—and make a clear, forceful, public declaration. Tellthem that Kaira is your life, that she is their future, and that if anyonedisrespects her or her family again, there will be serious, immediateconsequences. You need to declare your love and your dominance over the Poddarchaos. Right now. Today."

Aaryan flushed, recognizing the direct challenge to hisauthority, but also sensing the opportunity to prove his worth to the powerfulGoenkas.

Aaryan (Rising quickly, his tone decisive): "Considerit done. They will know Kaira is my priority. My family will understand thatthis alliance cannot be questioned. I will go to Poddar Mansion right now andspeak to them."

Kairav and Muskan watched him leave, exchanging a cold,knowing look. The first layer of pressure was successfully applied.

Ruhi, looking impeccable in a crisp business suit, kneltbeside Daksh, who was clutching his favorite dinosaur action figure in theplush, overly sterile reception area of Birla HospitalShe was surrounded by asmall mountain of supplies: a bright blue backpack, a cooler bag for snacks, awater bottle, and a clearly labeled emergency contact card. Harshvardhan’simposing figure loomed nearby, reviewing a financial report on a transparenttablet.

Ruhi (To Daksh, voice firm but gentle): "Daksh,remember what we discussed. Dadaji is showing you all the amazing parts of thehospital. Be a very good boy. No running near the operating theaters,okay?"

Daksh (Eyes wide with excitement): "Okay, Mumma! I'mgoing to find all the bad germs like Bade nanu said! And maybe see a realbrain!"

Harshvardhan lowered his tablet, a look of profound, almostsurgical, pride on his face.

Harshvardhan: "Precisely! He understands the mission.This boy will be absorbing pure, unadulterated medical excellence today!"He gestured dismissively at the pile of supplies. "Aur yeh saara samaankisliye? We have a cafeteria with nutritional supplements! This is a hospital,Ruhi, not a picnic!"

Ruhi ignored him, placing the blue backpack firmly in hishands.

Ruhi (A quick, detailed instruction): "Dadu, this hashis allergen-free snacks, his reading book, and his emergency contact card. Thered pouch contains antiseptic wipes—please use them. And the cooler bag hasjuice, not coffee, Dadu!"

Harshvardhan held the backpack as if it were contaminatedmedical waste.

Harshvardhan (Sniffing with disdain): "Fine. I willtolerate the sugar contamination for the sake of science. Today, I willpersonally ensure this boy learns the fundamental difference between a useless tuntuna)and a life-saving injection! “

Ruhi swallowed hard, knowing the lecture was inevitable. Shequickly hugged Daksh, then backed away towards the exit. Just before steppingout, she stopped, bowed her head, and pressed her hands together, whisperingfuriously toward the ceiling.

Ruhi (Her desperate prayer, rapid-fire): "Matashree,Poppy, Dad! Please! I know Dadaji loves me and Daksh, but you know how dramatiche is. Poppy, please use your Chief Surgeon influence from heaven! Matashree,please give me your inner strength! And Dad, please, for the love of God, don'tlet him traumatize my son! No accidental scalpels, no lectures on the sevenstages of medical failure, and please, keep the words 'Akshu' and 'panauti'far, far away from my genius boy! Just bring him back psychologically intact!Amen!"

She then squared her shoulders, forced a business-likecomposure back onto her face, and vanished through the automatic doors, leavingher sanity, and her son, in the highly dramatic, but surprisingly capable,hands of Harshvardhan Birla.

Kaira stood before a full-length mirror, making the finaladjustments to her outfit. She was wearing a perfectly tailored pale pinktrouser suit—a modern choice that blended feminine authority with corporatesharpness. The fabric was crisp, the lines severe, a deliberate rejection ofthe flowy ethnic wear favored by her older relatives. She wore minimal jewelry:a simple platinum necklace and her diamond stud earrings, nothing that woulddistract from her expertise.

Kaira (Examining her reflection, a slight, determinedsmile): "The Birla Hospital. The gold standard. This is not just aboutmoney; this is about unassailable medical prestige."

She picked up a small, sleek black leather file containingthe analyzed proposal from Harshvardhan. Her mind was already runningprojections: the patient referrals, the access to international research, thesheer power of adding the Birla affiliation to her own formidable reputation.

She considered the pink suit. It wasn’t the aggressive redor corporate navy that Muskan preferred; it was a calibrated choice. It said: Iam successful, I am feminine, and I am entirely in control of this negotiation.

Kaira (Internal Monologue): " Harshvardhan Birla justoffered me the keys to his kingdom because of my skill. This partnership willsolidify my position as an institution, completely independent of the thePoddar family’s messy drama."

She applied a final touch of matte lipstick—a shade thatmatched the subtle hue of her suit—and checked her phone. No urgentnotifications. The Centre was running like a well-oiled machine in her absence.

She took a deep breath, the subtle scent of her expensiveperfume filling the air. She wasn't nervous; she was primed. This was her war,and her weapon was professional excellence.

She grabbed her designer handbag, which contained nothingbut her keys, her proposal notes, and her clinic’s latest financial statement(just in case she needed a reminder of her existing power).

With a final, confident nod to her reflection, Dr. KairaGoenka turned and walked out, ready to conquer the most prestigious medicalempire in the city. The Birla Hospital appointment was her real engagement—toher career.

Harshvardhan walked with a strut that commanded absoluterespect from the staff, holding Daksh’s tiny hand. Instead of the snacks Ruhipacked, Harshvardhan had produced a foil-wrapped, dense "Neuro-PrecisionEnergy Bar"—a dark, gritty, industrial-looking square.

Harshvardhan (Beaming): "Eat this, my boy! Throw awaythat silly granola bar your mother packed. This is a Surgeon's Focus Bar! Itcontains omega-3s, cognitive enhancers, and enough protein for a seven-hourcranial surgery! You need your brain to be electric today!"

Daksh took a tiny, hesitant bite and made a face.

Daksh: "It tastes like dirt and vitamins, Dadu."

Harshvardhan: "It tastes like superior cognitivefunction, Daksh! It tastes like a perfect IQ score! Now, come."

He stopped a terrifyingly busy Chief Nurse in the hallway.

Harshvardhan (Barking): "Nurse! Fetch a pediatric labcoat! Size Extra-Small! And a real stethoscope! None of those plastic toys. Mygreat-grandson needs to hear the Lubb-Dub of excellence, not some squeakynonsense!"

Minutes later, Daksh was drowning in a white coat thatdragged on the floor, a Littmann stethoscope hanging around his neck like aheavy gold chain. Harshvardhan looked at him with tears of pride in his eyes.

Harshvardhan: "Haaye! Look at you. You look morecompetent than half my interns. Come, let me show you the RealDisneyland."

He marched Daksh past the colourful Pediatric Ward without asecond glance.

Harshvardhan: "Ignore the cartoons, Daksh. Cartoons arefor the weak. We are going to the Main OT (Operation Theatre) Gallery! The VIPbox!"

They took the private elevator up. Harshvardhan swiped hiscard, and the glass doors slid open to reveal the Observation Deck looking downinto an active operating theatre.

Harshvardhan (Whispering dramatically): "Behold, Daksh!The symphony of the scalpel! Dr. Mehta is performing a bypass. Look at theprecision! Look at the incision!"

Down below, the surgeons were fully engaged. There wasblood. There were retractors holding a chest cavity open. And then, the surgeonpicked up a bone saw.

WHIRRRRRRR.

The sound of the saw cutting through the sternum echoedthrough the speakers.

Daksh froze. His eyes went wide. His bottom lip began totremble. The sight of the blood and the sound of the saw was not"cool" to a five-year-old; it was the stuff of nightmares.

Daksh (Voice wobbling): "Bade nanu... he is... he iscutting him..."

Harshvardhan (Oblivious, tapping the glass excitedly):"Yes! It’s the Sternotomy! The gateway to the heart! Look at the bloodflow, Daksh! It’s magnificent! It’s—"

WAAAAAAHHHHHH!

Daksh erupted into a loud, terrified wail, burying his facein the oversized lab coat.

Daksh (Crying): "Momm bacchao,mummaaa!!"

Harshvardhan froze, panicked. He looked around the emptyobservation deck as if searching for a mute button on the child.

Harshvardhan: "No, no! Daksh! Stop! Why are yourlacrimal glands overacting? This is science! It’s not scary; it’sbillable!"

He knelt down, trying to console the boy, but his version ofcomfort was... unique.

Harshvardhan (Patting Daksh’s head awkwardly): "Daksh,beta, listen to me. Don't cry. Crying dehydrates you. Think of the logic! Thatman is sleeping! He feels nothing! It’s just... mechanics! Like fixing a car,but wetter!"

Daksh cried harder.

Daksh: "I want to go"

Harshvardhan sighed deeply, looking visibly disappointed,and muttered to himself.

Harshvardhan: "Oh God. It’s the genes. The tuntunagenes have activated. This is Akshara's emotional DNA interfering with my Birlaresilience! He’s having a sentimental reaction to a standard incision!"

He grabbed Daksh by the shoulders, looking him dead in theeye.

Harshvardhan: "Daksh! Look at me! You are a Birla! Wedo not fear blood; we analyze it! We charge for it! Stop crying, or yourelectrolytes will drop!"

Daksh sniffled, looking at his grandfather's panicked face.

Harshvardhan (Softening, realizing he needed a distraction):"Okay, okay. Fine. The surgery is 'scary.' Fine. I accept yourunscientific assessment."

He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, scrollingfrantically.

Harshvardhan: "Chup ho jaao (Quiet down). I know whatwill cheer you up. Forget the heart surgery. Come with Dadu to the AnatomyMuseum in the basement."

He wiped Daksh’s tears with the sleeve of his expensivesuit.

Harshvardhan (Whispering conspiratorially): "I have areal human skeleton named Mr. Bones down there. And... (he paused for effect)... a jar with a brain inside it. It floats! Much better than this bloody mess,na?"

Daksh sniffled, intrigued. "A floating brain?"

Harshvardhan (Standing up, relieved): "Yes! A floatingbrain! Very peaceful. No noise. Very clean. Come, let’s go see the dead peopleparts. They are much friendlier."

He quickly ushered Daksh away from the window, muttering,"Next time, we start with Dermatology. Less blood, more creams. Step bystep, Harshvardhan. Step by step."

The black Goenka Mercedes didn't just pull up to the curb;it docked like a sleek ocean liner against a concrete pier.

Inside, Kaira checked her reflection in the rearview mirrorone last time. Not for vanity, but for armor plating. The pale pink trousersuit was impeccable—not a crease, not a stray thread. It was tailored within aninch of its life, sharp enough to cut glass. Her hair was a disciplined, glossyhelmet of perfection.

She took a breath, inhaling the filtered AC air of the car,preparing for the scent of antiseptic and judgment.

Kaira (Internal Monologue): "Okay. Game face. You arenot Kaira the niece, or Kaira the fiancée. You are Dr. Goenka, the aestheticrevenue stream they are desperate to acquire. Walk like you own the building,even if you're just visiting."

She didn't wait for the driver. She pushed the heavy dooropen.

First contact: The point of a nude, patent leather JimmyChoo stiletto hit the pavement.

Clack.

She stepped out, rising to her full height, snapping heroversized designer sunglasses onto her face despite being indoors. She grabbedher structured Hermès bag—containing the proposal that was worth millions—likeit was a nuclear football.

She walked toward the massive glass sliding doors.

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

The rhythm was precise, militaristic, and impossibly fastfor heels that high. It was the sound of an approaching deadline.

The automatic doors hissed open, and the hospital noise—theintercom pages, the shuffling feet, the low murmur of worried relatives—seemedto hiccup.

Kaira entered the lobby. The air temperature dropped tendegrees.

It wasn't just her beauty; it was the sheer, aggressivepolish of her presence in a place usually defined by scrubs and exhaustion. Shecut through the sterile environment like a scalpel through gauze.

A cluster of medical interns near the reception desk stoppedtalking mid-sentence, their eyes widening as this vision in weaponized pastelstrode past. A junior resident carrying a stack of files actually stumbled,papers fluttering to the floor.

Kaira didn't break stride. She didn't even turn her head.She just kept moving toward the elevators, her gaze fixed on a point somewherebeyond the mortal realm of the ground floor.

Kaira (Internal Monologue): "Eyes up. Chin parallel tothe floor. Don't look at the chaos; you are above the chaos. You are the curefor the chaos."

A flustered young administrator with a clipboard, clearlysent by Harshvardhan's office to intercept her, practically jogged to catch up.

Administrator (Breathless, slightly terrified): "Dr.Goenka! Dr. Kaira! Welcome! We weren't expecting you for another four minutes.Dr. Harshvardhan is just finishing a—"

Kaira stopped abruptly near the VIP elevators. The suddensilence of her heels was more intimidating than the sound. She slowly removedher sunglasses, fixing the young man with a cool, clinical assessment that madehim wither.

Kaira (Voice calm, low, and terrifyingly smooth): "Iknow where his office is. Top floor. Cardiology wing adjacent. And I'm notearly. I'm precisely on time for efficiency."

She pressed the elevator call button with a perfectlymanicured finger.

Kaira: "You can tell him I'm ascending now. And do findsomeone to pick up those files that resident dropped. It looks messy."

The elevator doors slid open. Kaira stepped inside themirrored box, turning to face the lobby as the doors began to close. For asplit second, she caught her reflection in the closing steel doors—perfect pinkagainst the cold grey of the hospital.

The doors shut, sealing her in. The ascent to the Birlathrone room began.

The VIP elevator doors slid open with a near-silent whoosh.Kaira stepped out, ready to dominate, her pink power suit a beacon of calmauthority in the sterile hallway.

She took exactly three confident clicks down the marblecorridor before she nearly tripped over something small and white huddled neara potted plant.

It was a child. Drowning in an oversized lab coat, staringblankly at a plastic femur bone.

Kaira (Stopping abruptly, a flicker of genuine confusionbreaking her mask): "Excuse me? Are we allowing unsupervised minors in theexecutive wing now?"

The child looked up. It was Daksh.

Daksh (Blinking innocently): "Hello, Kaira Maasi. I’mstudying. Dadu showed me a man getting his chest cut open with a saw, and thenwe saw a brain in a jar. It was very...educational."

Kaira felt a genuine shiver run down her spine that hadnothing to do with the hospital air conditioning.

Kaira (Horrified whisper): "A saw? And a... brain in ajar? Daksh, what kind of—"

Before she could process the trauma being inflicted on hernephew, a booming, highly dramatic voice echoed down the hall.

Harshvardhan: "Daksh! There you are, my littleNeuro-operative! Did you locate the Patella yet?"

Harshvardhan Birla strode into view. He was older now, hishair silver, but his energy was still that of a highly caffeinated, perpetuallydissatisfied CEO. He stopped short when he saw the vision in pink standing overhis great-grandson.

He squinted at her, his expression shifting from manicgrandfather to dismissive patriarch.

Harshvardhan: "Ah. You arrived. Dr. Kaira Goenka."

He said "Goenka" the way one might say"fungal infection."

Kaira (Recovering her poise instantly): "Dr. Birla. Apleasure. Though I admit, finding my young nephew traumatized by surgicalequipment in the hallway wasn't on my agenda."

Harshvardhan (Waving his hand dismissively):"Traumatized? Nonsense. He’s being inoculated against weakness! Unlikesome branches of this family tree, we Birlas prefer fortitude."

He looked her up and down, unimpressed by the aestheticperfection.

Harshvardhan: "Well. You look... expensive. Typical.You are Kairav's daughter, yes?Tuntunewale ki bhatiji. I suppose you’re here totalk about 'feelings' and 'inner beauty' in my hospital?"

Kaira fought the urge to roll her eyes so hard they’d getstuck. This man was cartoonishly abrasive. He was currently absentmindedlyclicking a bone-saw shaped pen. It was deeply weird.

Kaira (Internal Monologue): "Okay, he’s eccentricbordering on unhinged. Ruhi di wasn'tkidding. Focus on the goal. Ignore the creepy pen."

Kaira (Aloud, her voice cool and razor-sharp): "Dr.Birla, let's be clear. I don't deal in 'feelings.' I deal in epidermis,collagen, and the desperate desire of the wealthy to defy gravity. My clinicisn't a hobby; it's a high-margin aesthetic empire. I’m here because you wantthat revenue stream attached to your name."

Harshvardhan stopped clicking his pen. He blinked. Thereference to "high-margin revenue" acted like a smelling salt.

Harshvardhan (His posture straightening, intrigue replacingdisdain): "High-margin, you say? Hmm. You speak less like a Goenka andmore like a... well, a sensible person. Come with me."

He grabbed Daksh’s hand and practically marched Kaira downthe hall towards a set of large double doors at the very end of the wing.

Harshvardhan: "You want to see where your empire willsit? Behold."

He threw the doors open with theatrical flair.

It was a massive, dusty, disused wing of the hospital.Sunlight streamed in through dirty windows, illuminating scattered chairs andold acoustic foam panels peeling off the walls. In the corner, a dusty, brokenguitar lay propped against a wall.

Harshvardhan pointed at the guitar with undisguised glee.

Harshvardhan: "Do you know what this was, Dr. Kaira?This was the 'Music Therapy Wing.' My son, Abhimanyu, built this mandir to do pooja paath of that tuntunewali bua of yours. For years, this prime real estate was wasted on... strumming and humming."

He turned to Kaira, his eyes shining with vindictive triumph.

Harshvardhan: "I am gutting it. Every last acoustic tile goes in the trash. No more tuntuna. We are replacing sentimental noise with hard, cold, injectable science. Your science. We will turn this emotional wasteland into the 'Birla Centre for Aesthetic Excellence'."

Kaira looked around the dusty room. It was creepy how muchjoy he took in erasing the past, but professionally? It was a blank canvas. Avery large, very expensive blank canvas.

Kaira (Walking into the room, her heels clicking on thedusty floor): "The square footage is adequate. I'll need northern lightexposure for the consultation rooms, marble flooring, not this vinyl, and aprivate elevator access for my high-profile clientele. They don't like walkingthrough general admissions."

Harshvardhan (Grinning, actually impressed by her demands):"Done. We understand the needs of the elite. Now, the proposal I sent you.The standard consultant fee split is 60/40 in the hospital's favor, given weare providing the infrastructure and the brand name."

Kaira stopped walking. She turned slowly to face him,removing her sunglasses to level a direct, unblinking stare at the seniorBirla.

Kaira (Her voice drop-dead serious): "Dr. Birla, youaren't just buying my skill. You are buying my entire existing client list—thetop 1% of Udaipur who currently wouldn't step foot in a general hospital.You're buying instant profitability in a sector you currently have zeropresence in."

She paused, letting the silence stretch. Harshvardhan lookedat her, fascinated by this creature who looked like a delicate flower butnegotiated like a shark.

Kaira: "I'm not a junior consultant. I'm a partner. Iwant an 70/30 split on all non-surgical procedures performed in this wing, inmy favor. And 10% equity in the wing's branding rights."

Harshvardhan’s jaw actually dropped. He nearly droppedDaksh’s hand. A Goenka... asking for 70%? And equity?

For a moment, Kaira thought he might yell. He looked like hewas malfunctioning.

Then, slowly, a massive, genuine grin spread acrossHarshvardhan’s face. He looked at her not as Akshara’s niece, but as a kindred,money-hungry spirit.

Harshvardhan (Whispering in awe): "Haaye. Seventypercent?Kitnilaalchi ho tum. It’s predatory. It’s absolutely unethical commercialism."

He slapped his hand on a dusty table, kicking up a cloud ofdirt.

Harshvardhan (Roaring with laughter): "I LOVE IT! Youare no tuntunewali! You are a shark in a pink suit! Agreed! Draw up the papers.Welcome to Birla Hospital, Dr. Kaira. We are going to make a killingtogether!"

Kaira allowed herself a small, satisfied smirk. She had justsecured the deal of a lifetime, impressed the craziest man in Udaipur, andsecured her independence, all without a single mention of Aaryan Poddar.

Now, she just needed to get out of there before he showedher the brain in the jar.

Kaira was back in her office at the Centre, the BirlaHospital proposal spread out on her desk. She was still riding the high of hernegotiation, her mind already buzzing with design ideas for the new Dermatologywing. The 80/20 split was a massive coup, proof of her undeniable professionalvalue.

She picked up her phone to call Aaryan, a rare impulse. Shegenuinely wanted to share this triumphant news.

Kaira (On the phone, her voice bright with suppressedexcitement): "Aaryan, I have incredible news! My meeting with HarshvardhanBirla... it went better than I could have imagined. I've signed on as the Headof the new Birla Centre for Aesthetic Excellence!"

She paused, expecting his effusive congratulations, perhapsa proud, "My brilliant fiancée!"

Instead, there was a beat of silence on the other end,followed by a light, brittle laugh. It wasn't a joyful sound.

Aaryan (His tone subtly shifting, a practiced ease maskingan underlying discomfort): "The Birla Hospital? Kaira, that's...interesting. Lekin ab uski kya zaroorat thi? Your clinic is doing so well onits own. Why complicate things?"

Kaira felt a prick of irritation. Complicate things?

Kaira: "Complicate? Aaryan, this isn't complication,this is professional elevation! It's prestige, cutting-edge research, andunmatched growth! My Centre will be integrated as a top-tier consultantdivision under the most respected medical brand in the city. It'sphenomenal!"

Aaryan (His voice smooth, almost condescending, as ifexplaining something simple to a child): "Exactly, corporate.Jaan, we arePoddars. We own the corporate world; we don't clock in for it. Once we aremarried, Kaira, your name will already carry the weight of my family's legacy. "

He continued, his words framed as gentle advice, butcarrying the subtle, insistent weight of an instruction.

Aaryan: "This Birla job... it sounds like a lot ofextra effort and late nights. And the Birlas, you know, they're so dramatic.Hamari family mein itna sab nahin chaltaWe need you focused on our new home,our family life, and maintaining your beauty standards. Why use up energyfighting over hospital politics when you can peacefully manage your own clinicas you are? I prefer my wife to be a CEO of her own home, not a division headunder someone else."

The words hung in the air: not a competing consultant...extra effort... CEO of her own home. Kaira felt a sickening chill. He hadn'tcelebrated her success; he had subtly, expertly, and immediately diminished it.He was already trying to confine her, to shrink her ambitions into a"Poddar bahu" mold.

The hunch was planted. He wasn't rejecting the Birla offerfor her sake, or for status reasons; he was rejecting it because he preferred awife who was slightly less powerful, slightly more compliant, and entirelyfocused on his domestic sphere.

Kaira (Her voice flat, carefully neutral): "I see.Well, the papers are signed, Aaryan. It's a done deal. I'm the Head ofDermatology at Birla Hospital."

She ended the call before he could respond, her triumphturning sour. The pink power suit suddenly felt like a target.

Abhir's small, modern music studio in a quieter part ofUdaipur. The space is filled with the warm glow of monitor screens and thecomplex wiring of his soundboards.

Ruhi sat quietly on a stool beside a massive synthesizer,waiting for Abhir to finish adjusting a track. He looked relaxed, completely inhis element—a world away from the starched collars and strict schedules of the Birla Hospital.

Ruhi (Smiling softly as the track fades): "It's beautiful, Abhir. Very different from the Piya Tose melodrama Dada keeps complaining about."

Abhir (Smiling warmly at his sister): "Ruhi! Whatbrings the corporate lawyer to the noisy pit? Did Dada finally send you toconfiscate my instruments?"

Ruhi: "No. I came because of him... because ofDocman." She looked at the small, slightly dusty photograph of AbhimanyuBirla Abhir kept discreetly tucked behind a speaker. "And also because of Matashree, and Papa."

Abhir (Sighing, touching the picture): "I know, RU. Butthat life... the Birlas... it’s too much pain, too much drama. I love Dada andDida, but I can't be part of the medical chaos. I chose the simple, peaceful life that Abhinav Papa gave us. This is clean; it's just sound."

Ruhi: "But your connection to Docman isn't chaos; it’slegacy. It's not about becoming a doctor, it's about acknowledging where yourstrength comes from. Docman saved lives, and he had a fire in him, Billa Boy.You have that fire. Don't let your mom’s shadow completely erase Docman’sreality. They miss you."

Abhir: "I miss them too, Ru. But what would I even do there? I’m a musician, not a surgeon. I have no place at the hospital."

Ruhi slid off the stool and moved to stand directly in frontof him, her voice firm with love and clear-eyed logic.

Ruhi: "You have a place because you are his son. And weneed you. We need you to anchor to us, Abhir. You've spent too long isolatingyourself, pushing away everything good and stable."

She paused, taking a deep breath, knowing this next partwould hurt, but was necessary.

Ruhi: "You need to look ahead. You know this month...it's been a year since Charu..."

Abhir's face immediately tightened, his usual easy-goingexpression dissolving into a familiar, deep grief. He looked away, focusing intensely on the flashing lights of his mixing board.

Abhir (Voice tight): "Ru, please. Don't."

Ruhi (Gently, but persistent): "I have to, Abhir. Iloved Charu. We all did. She was beautiful, and she brought you so much joyafter all the darkness. She was the one who tied you to the Poddar family,however complicated that relationship was. She was Krish, Armaan, and Aaryan'ssister. Her death was tragic, and the grief is still heavy—especially foryou."

She placed a comforting hand on his arm.

Ruhi: "But it has been a year, Abhir. One whole year.You honored her memory by stepping away and healing, but you cannot let griefdefine your future. You need to open your heart again, Billa Boy. Not just tous, but to life. Docman wouldn't want you stuck here, and neither would Charu.Move on. Reconnect. It's time."

Abhir stared at the picture of Abhimanyu, then back at hissister. The weight of his adopted father's love, his birth father's legacy, andhis late wife's memory settled heavily around him. Ruhi hadn't given him aneasy answer, but she had given him permission to choose life.

Abhir (After a long moment, nodding slowly): "I hear you, Ru. Bas kuch waqt de do. (Just give me some time.)"

Ruhi smiled, a small victory won. She knew that time, for a Birla, meant action.

Originally posted by: A_Star39

Part 13 is out ladies!

Aap toh Shatabdi Express nikle

Originally posted by: missFiesty_69

Aap toh Shatabdi Express nikle

My secret weapon is Google gemini

the secret to shatabdi express fast chapters dropping]

https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/yeh-rishta-kya-kehlata-hai/5378561/dr-kaira-chapter-discussions-thread

Harsh and daksh scenes are hilarious 😂 😂 😂 😂 aww poor kid got traumatized by surgery. Neuro it is

Kaira reminded me of arohi and I hope harsh comments that sometimes. Their bargaining and kitni lalchi ho tum I like it 😂😂😂🙏🙏 harshu the goat.

Why Aryan behaving like a silly. Suddenly kaira has to be proper gopi bahu? Kuch plan hoga iska i feel. Muskan kairav let him unleash on Poddars dekhte hai kya bolta hai ye banda

What's even abhir blabbering about. His childhood memories did he lose them all? When he ever felt it's all.doctor talks in birla house he has no place? By that logic ruhi daksh has no place too.hes so stupid useless as ever. Go have sex with Kiara and die.