Chapter 1 ✨
"Durga Puja was never just a festival in Bengal; it was the feeling of homecoming. The city dressed itself in lights, the skies carried the scent of autumn, and somewhere in the distance, the first beat of the dhak announced-Maa is coming."
💗 A Little Note, My Bunnies!
You'll mostly see "Mishti" instead of "Hiya" throughout the story. Don't get confused!
Mishti is Hiya's loving family nickname, and Aayan is lovingly called "Chhotu." 💕
So remember-Mishti = Hiya! 🥰
Aayan = Chotu
❀ • ✦ • ♡ • ✦ • ❀
A Morning in the Mukherjee Mansion
Location - Kolkata, West Bengal
Kolkata had a way of waking up slowly.
The city stirred beneath a pale golden sky, its narrow streets gradually filling with the familiar sounds of morning-the distant call of a vegetable seller, the soft ringing of temple bells, the occasional honk of a passing car, and the sweet fragrance of freshly brewed tea drifting from countless homes.
But in one of the most beautiful corners of South Kolkata stood a mansion that seemed untouched by the hurried rhythm of the city.
The Mukherjee Mansion.
A magnificent ancestral home surrounded by an expansive garden where dew-covered roses bowed beneath the weight of early morning droplets. Tall krishnachura and shiuli trees lined the stone pathway leading toward the grand entrance, while strings of marigold flowers decorated the balconies and carved wooden pillars in preparation for the upcoming Durga Puja celebrations.
The mansion itself was a beautiful blend of old Bengali architecture and timeless elegance.
Its cream-coloured walls rose beneath a traditional red-tiled roof, while tall arched windows opened toward the garden. Intricately carved wooden balconies stretched across the upper floors, decorated with fresh flowers and delicate alpana designs.
The entire house seemed to breathe with anticipation.
It was Panchami morning.
And the Mukherjee family had been awake since dawn.
Inside the mansion, the usually quiet corridors were alive with movement.
Servants hurried from one room to another, carrying flowers, brass utensils, trays of sweets, and puja decorations. The faint fragrance of incense floated through the air, mixing with the intoxicating scent of shiuli flowers.
In the grand Thakur Dalan, preparations were already underway.
Fresh marigold garlands framed the pillars. White flowers were arranged around the sacred space, while brass diyas flickered beneath the soft morning light. The sound of conch shells occasionally echoed through the mansion, followed by the melodious ringing of temple bells.
One by one, the Mukherjee family gathered before their household deity.
Dressed in traditional Bengali attire, the elders stood together while the younger members quietly took their places beside them.
The priest began the morning prayers.
The rhythmic chanting filled the Thakur Dalan.
Hands folded.
Heads bowed.
Eyes closed.
For those few peaceful minutes, the entire family seemed united beneath the same roof, sharing the same prayer.
When the aarti finally ended, everyone bowed before the deity and received the blessings before making their way toward the dining hall.
The enormous dining table was soon filled with steaming cups of tea, luchi, aloo'r dum, sandesh, mishti doi, fruits, and several other Bengali delicacies.
Yet one chair remained empty.
The chair everyone was looking at.
Trisha ji glanced toward the staircase.
"Mishti ekhono elo na?"
Her lips curved into an affectionate smile.
She knew exactly where her daughter was.
Still sleeping.
Again.
Before anyone could answer, she rose from her chair.
"Aap log shuru kariye," she said warmly. "Main bula kar lati hoon Mishti ko."
A few family members exchanged knowing glances.
Everyone knew their little Mishti was not exactly a morning person.
Trisha ji turned toward the staircase.
After she left...
Shaunak ji called Rudransh.
Tringgg... Tringgg...
"Hello, Baba."
"Tu kab aa raha hai, phir?" Shaunak ji asked.
"Amar ektu late hoye jabe aste. Ami ekhon rastay achi."
"I'll be a little late. I'm on my way right now."
Then Rudransh suddenly asked,
"Ar Princess kothai?"
"Ghumacche," Shaunak ji replied.
Rudransh chuckled.
"Oh, she hasn't changed at all."
He laughed softly.
"Phir Maa ke haath se daant kha rahi hogi."
Shaunak ji smiled.
"Tor Maa abar oke ghum theke uthate geche."
"Of course," Rudransh laughed. "Poor Princess."
The two of them continued talking for a few more minutes, discussing some business matters before finally ending the call.
After cut the call, Shaunak ji spoke.
"Partha, tum mere saath chalna."
The young man sitting nearby looked up from his plate.
"Kahan, Uncle?"
"Chhotu ko doctor ke paas le jaana hai. Usko fever hai na, toh main usse lekar jaata hoon. Tu bhi mere saath chalna."
Before Partha could answer, Avinash ji immediately interrupted.
"Bhaiya, aapko jaane ki koi zarurat nahi hai."
He said it calmly as he took another sip of his tea.
"Waise bhi aapki tabiyat theek nahi hai. Doctor ne aapko aaram karne ke liye bola hai. Aur waise bhi, main hi Chhotu ko lekar jaane wala tha."
A beat of silence followed.
Shaunak ji slowly turned his head toward his younger brother.
He spoke in his cold yet mocking tone.
"Tu chup kar."
His voice was completely serious.
"Tujhe kisne gyaan dene ko kaha hai? Woh bhi apne bade bhai ko?"
His younger brother blinked.
"Re... aisa kuch bhi nahi hai, Bhaiya. Main toh bas-"
He stopped.
Because his elder brother was staring at him.
One look.
Just one.
And apparently, that was enough.
The younger brother immediately lowered his eyes.
"Main chup hoon."
For two seconds, nobody spoke.
Then someone snorted.
Within seconds, the entire dining table erupted into laughter.
The two brothers looked at each other with offended expressions before simultaneously turning away.
"Bas, bas," Nandita ji finally tried to intervene, shaking her head with an amused smile.
But before she could say another word-
"MISHTIIII!!!"
The angry voice thundered down from upstairs.
The entire dining hall went silent.
And then-
Everyone burst into laughter again.
Nandita ji pressed her lips together, trying unsuccessfully to hide her smile.
"Bechari," Madhumita ji whispered.
"Bhagwan uski raksha kare," she said dramatically.
Even Shaunak ji chuckled.
Because everyone knew exactly what was happening upstairs.
Their little sunshine had been caught sleeping again.
---
Upstairs
Morning sunlight slipped through the tall windows of Hiya's bedroom.
The sheer white curtains swayed gently in the cool breeze, allowing delicate golden rays to enter the room.
The sunlight spilled across the polished wooden floor, travelled over the cream-coloured rug, and slowly climbed toward the enormous bed positioned near the window.
Her room was beautiful without being overly extravagant.
Soft ivory walls were decorated with framed family photographs. A large bookshelf occupied one corner, filled with novels, law books, and little trinkets she had collected over the years.
A comfortable armchair rested beside the window, accompanied by a small wooden table holding a half-finished book.
Fresh flowers stood inside a crystal vase.
The faint fragrance of jasmine lingered in the air.
And in the middle of all that elegance-
Lay its owner.
Fast asleep.
Hiya Mukherjee was curled up beneath the soft white duvet, sleeping on her side with one arm tucked beneath her cheek.
One of her legs was slightly tangled in the blanket, while her other hand held onto the pillow as though someone might steal it from her.
Her long, thick black hair had escaped its loose braid during the night and spread across the pillow in soft, messy waves.
A few strands rested carelessly against her forehead.
She looked peaceful.
Almost childlike.
The golden rays slowly travelled across the bed.
Until one finally landed directly on her face.
Hiya frowned.
Her delicate eyebrows pulled together.
The warm sunlight kissed her milk-white complexion, highlighting her rounded rosy cheeks and adding an endearing sweetness to her face. A tiny mole adorned her left cheek, an imperfect little detail that somehow made her beauty even more unforgettable.
Her large, expressive brown eyes remained hidden beneath long, naturally curled lashes.
Her nose was small and delicately shaped, while her lips were naturally pink and slightly parted in sleep.
There was something undeniably innocent about her face.
Something soft.
Something warm.
Something that made it impossible to stay angry with her for too long.
The sunlight moved lower, brushing against her cheek.
Hiya scrunched her nose.
Then she pulled the blanket over her face.
Unfortunately for her-
Someone had other plans.
"Mishtiiiii!"
Her mother's voice came from outside the room.
"Wake up, Mishti!"
Nothing.
"Mishtiiiiiiii!!"
Still nothing.
Her mother sighed.
"Uth ja, bachcha."
The sound of Trisha ji's voice finally penetrated the fortress of sleep.
Hiya slowly emerged from beneath the blanket.
She blinked.
Once.
Twice.
She stared blankly at the wall.
For approximately five whole minutes, she simply sat there on the bed.
Hair messy.
Eyes half-open.
Blank expression.
Like a lost child who had completely forgotten where she was.
Then suddenly-
Her eyes widened.
"Ohhh, no!"
She practically jumped off the bed.
"PUJA!"
She hurried toward the door, almost tripping over the edge of the carpet in her haste.
The moment she opened it-
She stopped.
Because someone was standing directly outside.
Her mother.
Arms crossed.
Eyebrows raised.
And a very obvious glare fixed upon her daughter.
Hiya stared at her.
Trisha ji stared back.
Two seconds.
Three.
Then Hiya's lips slowly stretched into the most innocent smile imaginable.
Her entire battisi appeared.
"Maa..."
She tilted her head cutely.
"Aap?"
Her mother narrowed her eyes.
"Ji haan. Main," her mother said, sounding slightly annoyed.
Hiya's smile became smaller.
Trisha ji pointed toward the inside of the room.
"Jaldi se ready ho jao aur neeche chalo. Sab tumhara dining table par wait kar rahe hain."
Hiya's shoulders dropped.
"But, Maa-"
"No buts."
"Maa, main bas-"
"Hiya."
One word.
A warning enough.
She immediately nodded.
"Ji."
Her mother gave her one last look before walking away.
Hiya watched her disappear down the corridor.
Then she slowly closed the door.
Pouted.
"Subah-subah koi itna gussa karta hai kya?"
She crossed her arms.
Then muttered under her breath-
"I was just sleeping! What terrible crime did I commit?" she whined, puffing out her cheeks. "And why is everyone so hell-bent on getting after me first thing in the morning?"
With another tiny pout, she disappeared into the bathroom.
---
A little while later, the bathroom door opened.
Warm steam escaped into the bedroom.
Hiya stepped out, wrapped in a soft white towel, her freshly washed hair dripping water down her back.
She stood before her wardrobe, staring at the rows of clothes.
"So..."
She tapped her chin thoughtfully.
"What do I wear?"
Her eyes travelled across the dresses before stopping on one particular outfit.
A deep purple frock.
Her lips immediately curved into a smile.
"Perfect."
She changed quickly.
The deep purple dress fell beautifully around her slender frame, its soft fabric moving gently around her knees whenever she walked. Delicate embroidery decorated the neckline and sleeves, adding an elegant touch without taking away from her youthful charm.
She paired it with tiny earrings and a simple bracelet.
Nothing excessive.
Just her.
She stood before the mirror.
For a moment, she stared at her reflection.
Her long black hair fell in soft waves down her back. Her expressive brown eyes looked brighter against the rich purple of her dress, and her naturally rosy lips curved into a satisfied smile.
"Ready, Mishti."
With that, she stepped outside.
The corridor stretched before her, illuminated by the warm morning sunlight filtering through the tall windows.
Fresh flowers had been placed along the carved wooden railings.
From downstairs came the distant sound of laughter.
And somewhere near the Thakur Dalan-
The temple bell rang again.
Ding...
Hiya smiled.
She gathered the hem of her dress slightly and began walking down the grand staircase.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Her soft footsteps echoed through the mansion.
And as she descended toward the dining hall-
By the time Hiya finally reached the dining hall, the entire family had already settled around the enormous table.
The moment she entered, several pairs of eyes turned toward her.
Her mother looked at her first.
Then at the clock.
Then back at her.
Hiya immediately lowered her gaze.
"Sorry..."
A tiny smile tugged at her lips.
"I got a little late."
"A little?"
Trisha ji raised an eyebrow.
Hiya's lips formed a small pout.
"Okay... thoda zyada late."
A few chuckles escaped around the table.
Her father shook his head, trying to hide his smile.
She immediately ran toward her father, slipped her arms around his neck, and greeted him with a mischievous little smile.
"Good morning, Papa."
He chuckled and gently patted her head.
"Good morning, Mishti."
"Come here, Mishti. Sit down," Madhumita ji said warmly with a smile.
Hiya quickly took her seat.
And just like that, the warmth of the Mukherjee household returned to normal.
The elders began discussing the upcoming Durga Puja preparations.
"Pandit ji ne jo list di hai, woh check kar li?" her father asked.
"Haan," her uncle replied. "Lekin phool aur decoration ka samaan abhi lena baaki hai."
"Is baar Thakur Dalan mein zyada decoration karwana," Dadi instructed. "Pichhle saal se bhi sundar hona chahiye."
"Bilkul," someone replied.
"Dhaki walon se bhi baat kar lena. Panchami se hi practice shuru kar den."
"Ji, Maa."
The conversation continued.
Flowers.
Decorations.
Bhog.
Guests.
The priest.
The arrangements for the coming days.
Everything that made Durga Puja feel less like a festival and more like the heartbeat of the entire household.
Meanwhile...
At the other end of the table, Hiya had completely forgotten about the serious discussion.
Because her little cousin brother had stolen a piece of sandesh from her plate.
Hiya gasped dramatically.
"Hey!"
The little boy grinned.
"Mine!"
"That's my sandesh!"
"No."
"Give it back!"
"No!"
Hiya narrowed her eyes.
The little boy stuck out his tongue.
"Catch me!"
And before anyone could stop him, he jumped down from his chair and ran.
Hiya immediately followed.
"Arrey! Come back here!"
The little boy laughed loudly as he ran around the dining table.
Hiya chased him like a little child herself.
"Ruko! Aaj toh tumhe main nahi chhodungi!"
Everyone stopped talking.
They simply watched.
The little boy ran around the chairs.
Hiya followed behind him, her deep purple dress swaying around her legs.
Finally, she caught him.
"Got you!"
She wrapped her arms around him and started tickling him.
The little boy burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"Nooo! Didi! No!"
The entire table erupted into laughter.
Even the strictest elders couldn't hide their smiles.
Her father leaned back in his chair, watching his daughter with quiet affection.
"Ye dono kab bade honge?"
Her uncle laughed.
"Shayad kabhi nahi."
Nandita ji smiled warmly.
"Bas aise hi rehne do dono ko."
For a moment, the mansion was filled with nothing but laughter.
Then-
TRRRIINNNG... TRRRIINNNG...
Nandita ji's phone suddenly rang.
She reached for it almost lazily.
But the moment her eyes fell upon the name glowing on the screen-
Her expression changed.
Her eyes lit up.
A beautiful smile instantly appeared on her face.
"Oh..."
She whispered.
Without wasting another second, she pushed her chair back and hurried away from the dining table with the phone in her hand.
The others glanced at her for a moment.
Then, seeing the smile on her face, they returned to their conversation.
---
A little away from the dining hall...
She answered the call.
"Hello?"
Her voice immediately became softer.
But then she heard the voice on the other end.
Her smile widened.
"Tu is baar nahi aayi na..."
She paused dramatically.
"Toh tu mera mara hua muh dekhegi!"
There was stunned silence from the other side.
Then-
"Agar tu phir se marne ki baat ki na, toh teri meri dosti khatam!"
The woman's voice echoed loudly through the phone.
Nandita ji chuckled.
"Accha baba, accha. Gussa mat kar."
"Har baar yehi drama karti hai tu!"
"Drama nahi hai. Sach bol rahi hoon."
"Bas kar!"
The woman sighed.
Then her voice softened.
"Waise... hum log is baar pakka aa rahe hain."
Nandita ji's smile slowly grew.
"Sab?"
"Haan. Full family ke saath."
She paused.
"Durga Maa ke darshan ke liye. Is baar koi excuse nahi chalega."
Nandita ji's eyes shimmered.
"Sach?"
"Bilkul sach."
The two women continued talking for a few moments, exchanging old memories and playful complaints.
Then Nandita ji suddenly remembered something.
"Achha, sun..."
"Hmm?"
"Is baar Darsh bete ko zaroor lekar aana."
There was a tiny pause.
Dadi's smile became mischievous.
"Aur usse bolna Dadi ne bulaya hai."
She narrowed her eyes playfully.
"Agar nahi aaya na..."
She took a dramatic breath.
"Toh mera mara hua muh dekhega!"
"Arrey, tu-"
Before the woman could finish-
Click.
She had already ended the call.
The woman on the other end was none other than Darsh's grandmother, Sumitra Agnihotri.
Nandita ji stared at the phone for a few seconds.
The smile remained on her face.
But slowly...
It faded.
Her eyes became distant.
Memories she had buried deep inside her heart began resurfacing.
Faces she hadn't seen in far too long.
And somewhere among those memories-
A little boy appeared.
"Nandita ji: Darsh beta! Tumne phir se Rudransh ki chocolate kyun churayi?"
Little Darsh frowned.
"Churayi nahi hai! Maine bas usse save ki hai."
Nandita ji raised an eyebrow.
"Uski chocolate tum kaise save karoge?"
Little Darsh answered confidently.
"Woh khud kha jaata. Maine uski jaan bachayi hai!"
Nandita ji stared at him.
"Achha? Aur wrapper tumhari pocket mein kyun hai?"
Little Darsh immediately looked down at his pocket.
"Evidence chhupa raha tha."
Nandita ji stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter.
Then she pulled him into her arms and lovingly asked,
"Achha, yeh batao... tum bade hokar kya banoge?"
Little Darsh crossed his tiny arms and glared at her.
After glaring at her for a few seconds, he proudly declared,
"Aisa aadmi jisse sab darenge."
Nandita ji smiled.
"Mujhse bhi?"
Little Darsh immediately looked away.
Then he mumbled,
"Aapse nahi."
"Kyun?"
He pouted and mumbled,
"Aap daantti bahut achha ho."
😤
Nandita ji laughed even harder.
Her eyes filled with tears as the old memory washed over her.
She blinked quickly.
But one tear escaped anyway.
"Maa..."
A gentle voice came from behind.
She startled.
Madhumita ji placed a hand softly on her shoulder.
She turned around.
For a moment, she simply stared.
Then she quickly wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes.
"Nothing."
She forced a smile.
"Bas purani baatein yaad aa gayi thi."
The person beside her didn't question her.
She simply stayed with her.
After taking a deep breath, Nandita ji straightened herself.
"Chalo."
Together, they returned toward the dining area.
---
The moment Dadi entered the room, everyone looked at her.
She walked toward the sofa and sat down.
Then, with an almost victorious smile, she announced-
"Agnihotri family is baar Puja mein aa rahi hai."
Silence.
For exactly two seconds.
Then everyone started talking at once.
"Really?"
"Agnihotri family?"
"Sab log aa rahe hain?"
Shaunak ji looked at his mother in disbelief.
"But Maa..."
He frowned.
"Kal raat ko hi toh meri Aviraj se baat hui thi. Usne toh kaha tha ki woh log nahi aa rahe."
She looked at him.
A slow, victorious smile spread across her face.
"Uski maa ne kaha hai."
She folded her arms proudly.
"Samjhe?"
Shaunak ji stared at her.
Nandita ji's smile widened.
"Ab main dekhti hoon woh log kaise nahi aate."
Everyone burst into laughter.
"Ma bhi na..." Avinash ji shook his head.
She ignored him completely.
Instead, she turned toward the family.
"Achha, Pandit ji ne jo jo samaan list mein likha hai na, woh Ramu ko de dena."
She pointed toward the servant.
"Woh bazaar se sab lekar aayega."
"Ji, Maa."
She nodded.
"Bas phir sab tayari time pe honi chahiye."
A few more instructions followed.
Then Nandita ji slowly stood up.
"Ab main apni medicine le leti hoon."
"Maa, main lekar aati hoon," Trisha ji offered.
"Nahi, nahi."
Nandita ji waved her hand.
"Main le lungi."
She began walking toward her room.
Behind her, the house slowly returned to its usual rhythm.
The men gathered their things and prepared to leave for their offices and businesses.
The women moved toward the kitchen, already discussing lunch.
Servants carried baskets of flowers through the corridors.
Someone shouted for more marigold garlands.
Someone else called for the decorator.
The priest's list was passed around.
The mansion was alive.
Warm.
Loud.
Happy.
Completely unaware...
That the arrival of the Agnihotri family would change much more than their Durga Puja plans.
Because somewhere far away from the laughter of the Mukherjee Mansion-
A man named Darsh Agnihotri had no idea that his Dadi had just declared war on his plans to stay away.
And perhaps...
He was about to walk straight into the one thing he had spent his entire life avoiding.
Love...
_____________________________
Chapter 1 End.....
Okayyy, my lovelies... Chapter One is finally here! 🥹💗
👀 What was your first impression of Hiya?
Our little sleepy sunshine definitely knows how to create chaos, doesn't she? 😂
🤭 And what do you think about Dadi?
Why do you think she was so desperate to bring the Agnihotri family to the Mukherjee Mansion?
Hame to lag rha ...Yee Dadi naa kuch na kuch kand karegi Zarur. 🤫
Aap logon ko Kya lagta Hai ?
Enjoy your reading.....
Until then, keep guessing. 👀✨
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