You were in kitchen helping your mother in law making dinner.

"So, how is my son treating you?" she asks while cutting vegetables. "He's as aloof and cold as ever." You say churning Daal. "You know, he's always been that way. He never was one to express his feelings openly." she say while caressing your hair in Motherly way. "Yes, I've noticed that. He rarely shows any emotion, good or bad." "He'll warm up eventually, give him time. He just needs someone to break through his walls." she says consoling you. I hope Ansh become a little open with his feeling. "Don't call him by name. It's not our custom." His grandmother says as she comes inside the kitchen.

The breakfast table is set with a spread of traditional Indian breakfast items, the aromas of aaloo paratha and chai wafting through the air. Ansh and his family are seated around the table, each indulging in the cuisine with enthusiasm. The scene is one of a typical family meal, filled with the sounds of silverware clinking against plates, the occasional burst of laughter, and the hushed tones of private conversations.

You were in kitchen making black coffee especially for him. "An-" you pause in mid sentence seeing his grandmother sitting next to him and remember her words.

"Aji sunte ho?" You call out loudly making him choke on water and his family member's eyes widen especially his grandmother's and your mother in law's. You look at his grandmother innocently as you followed her words and didn't call him by his name, rather by the terms usually used by other female members of family.