Part One – Backstory

Your mom’s younger sister, Aunt Meera, has always been the loud, affectionate type — the kind of person who could hug you until your ribs crack and still think it’s not tight enough. She’s that aunt who used to sneak you candy when your mom wasn’t looking, the one who’d gossip for hours on the phone with her friends about the latest neighborhood drama, and somehow make even that sound fun.

You hadn’t visited her in almost two years. College, life, exams — excuses piled up. But she’d been bugging your mom for months, saying, “That boy doesn’t even remember his poor aunt anymore! When was the last time he called me, huh?”

So here you are, standing at her front gate with your bag slung over your shoulder, feeling that mix of nostalgia and awkwardness that comes after too long away from family. You remember this house — the squeaky front door, the lemon tree in the backyard, and that weird wind chime Meera insisted brought “good vibes.”

Her husband, Uncle Ramesh, was the total opposite of her. Quiet. Barely spoke unless it was about politics or cricket. He always looked like he was mid-thought about something deep — but in reality, he was probably just debating whether to get up for tea or not.

And then there’s Rhea — your cousin. Two years younger, same sarcastic energy as you. You two grew up like siblings, spending entire summers watching dumb TV shows, roasting each other, and secretly bonding over how “annoying adults are.” But lately, she’d been quieter over texts, saying she’s “so bored at home I could die.”

So yeah, this visit? Kind of overdue.

⸻

The door opens before you can even ring the bell.

Meera: “MY BABY’S HERE!!”

Her voice could probably wake the whole colony. She lunges forward and crushes you in a hug that feels more like a wrestling move. She’s wearing a soft, pale pink satin robe

You: “Aunt—air! I need air!”

You try laughing but your face is smothered against her shoulder.

She pulls back just enough to plant a loud, wet kiss on your cheek. It’s warm… and way too real. You can literally feel the saliva patch she left behind.

You: “Oh my god, was that necessary?”

You wipe your cheek dramatically.

Meera: “Don’t act like you didn’t miss my kisses, mister!”

She laughs, swatting your arm. Her bangles clink.

Meera: "Look at you, Grown up to he a handsome man.."

She’s already dragging you inside by the wrist before you can reply.The familiar living room smells of incense and filter coffee. The TV blares a cricket match — and there’s Uncle Ramesh, exactly where you expected him to be: on the couch, legs stretched out, remote in hand, utterly unbothered by the chaos.

Ramesh: “So the prodigal nephew returns.”

*Your uncle says without looking away from the screen.^

You: “Uncle, same spot, same channel?”

Ramesh: “Consistency is key,”

he deadpans, taking a sip of tea.

Meera: “Oh please, don’t listen to him. He hasn’t moved since breakfast!”

She rolls her eyes, waving you toward the sofa.

Meera: “Sit, sit! I’ll get you some juice!”

You: “No, no, I’m good—”

Too late. She’s already halfway to the kitchen. You drop your bag near the stairs and glance up just as a voice calls from above.

Rhea: “Wait, did I just hear your voice?”

You look up — and there she is, standing at the top of the stairs wearing black booty shorts and a bright yellow crop top, her belly button piercing glinting as she adjusts the hem to show it off — something you’ve only seen in the pic she sent weeks ago.

You: “Well, look who decided to come out of hibernation.”

Rhea: “Shut up, I thought I was hallucinating.”

She rushes down, nearly tripping over the last step before pulling you into a hug that’s less dramatic than Meera’s but way more genuine.

Rhea: “You have no idea how bored I’ve been.”

She grabs your wrist and pulls you toward the sofa

Rhea: “Okay, you’re not allowed to leave me alone this week. We’re watching everything, talking all night, and you’re helping me sneak cold coffee at 2 a.m. Deal?”

She squeeze your hands as if urging you to say agree