Solanki–Vora Mansion
Sundays in the Solanki Vora mansion never began with peace.They began with noise. Loud, unapologetic, bone shaking noise.The kind that could make neighbors wonder if a wedding was happening every weekend in this house.
And today? No exception.
Arunika Solanki was banging on the bathroom door like she was auditioning for a crime show.
“Ruaan! Open the damn door!” she yelled, her voice echoing down the marble corridor.
“I need the bathroom!”
From inside, her brother’s lazy voice floated out, accompanied by the sound of running water.
“Relax, Aru. I’m conditioning my hair. Five more minutes.”
Arunika’s nostrils flared.
“Tere do strands ke liye poore ghar ka paani waste ho raha hai!”
Kavish Vora, their cousin, walked out of his room at the exact wrong time shirtless, towel on his shoulders, humming a song, looking like he thought he was God’s gift to mankind.
“Abey shampoo ka dard kyun le rahi hai, Aru?” Kavish smirked.
“Tujhe toh bas drama karna aata hai. Sunday ka quota poora kar rahi hai kya,Dekh saamne greek god khada hai?”
She turned on him instantly, pointing a finger.
“First of all stop roaming around half-naked! This is a house, not a Calvin Klein ad!”
Kavish pressed a hand to his chest dramatically.
"Excuse me. Half the girls in this city would die for this view.”
Arunika shot back without missing a beat:
“Half the girls in this city would also die laughing.
Greek God? More like Greek Yogurt. Amul Masti edition.”
Ruaan’s laugh boomed from inside the bathroom.
“Bhaaaaiii, she roasted you better than your protein toast.”
Kavish gasped.
“How dare you, Raavan ki aulad! You’re supposed to be on my side!”
“Not when you look like expired dairy,” Ruaan replied, still laughing.
Meanwhile Downstairs, the smell of aloo parathas was wafting through the air, but the kitchen was a battlefield of its own.Veena Vora (Kavish’s mom) was flipping parathas with one hand while screaming,
“Sab log neeche aao! Abhi! Sunday ka matlab yeh nahi ki main hotel wali aunty ban jaaun!”
Shreya Solanki (Ruaan & Arunika’s mom) chimed in from the other side of the counter,
“Bhabhi, chill. Yeh bachche aise hi hain. Tum unpe chaloge toh aur khush ho jaate hain.”
From the living room, Krish (Kavish’s dad) and Viraj (Ruaan & Arunika’s dad) were both sitting with their newspapers and chai like unbothered sages.
“Yehi toh hai asli Sunday vibe,” Viraj muttered without looking up.Krish nodded sagely. “Chaos hai toh life hai.”
Ten minutes later, the dining table was crowded with noise, plates clattering, and overlapping conversations.
Kavish was flexing his biceps while buttering his toast.
“See these gains? Even Greek Gods would retire.”
Arunika rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out.
“You keep calling yourself a Greek God, but bhai… yogurt is all I see.”
Ruaan took the opportunity and grabbed the egg from Kavish’s plate mid-conversation.
“Protein chori successful.”
“RUAANN!” Kavish’s scream could have cracked glass.
“That was my boiled egg!”
“And this,” Arunika narrated like a cricket commentator,“is the story of how my cousin lost his only source of brain protein.”
The moms joined the table, trying to restore order, while the dads pretended they were deaf.
“Har Sunday ko yeh hi scene hota hai. Khaana kam, tamasha zyada.”
Veena (sighs dramatically)
“Agli baar main breakfast ki jagah popcorn banaungi. Kam se kam nautanki dekhte hue match toh hoga.”
Arunika (standing with a spoon like it’s a mic)
“Viewers, yeh hai hamara Sunday ka reality show ‘Keeping Up with the Solankis and Voras.’”
Ruaan:“TRP guaranteed, bas Greek Yogurt ko thoda aur screen time milna chahiye.”
Kavish (slamming the table):
“ENOUGH! Greek God. Say it properly!”
All together
"GREEK YOGHURT"And the house exploded in laughter.
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IN Roy Mansion
It was a Sunday morning in Roy Mansion, but peace? Bilkul bhi nahin.
The sun had barely touched the giant French windows when the first scream echoed across the house.
“KIANAAA!” Aakarsh’s voice, muffled yet irritated, came from upstairs.
“Bas ek din ki chhutti hoti hai… ek din! Aur tujhe woh bhi speakers pe item songs bajana hai subah ke 7 baje?”
From the other end of the hallway, Kiana’s laughter rang out.
“Arre bhai, itna gussa kyun? Energy rakhni chahiye Sundays ke liye!”
She twirled around her room, hair messy, oversized tee falling off one shoulder, shouting along with the blasting lyrics.
Aakarsh, still in his grey sweatshirt and specs, barged into her room like a grumpy professor. He held a book in one hand and his phone in the other.
“Mute kar warna main tere speakers khidki se bahar fek dunga,” he threatened, looking every bit like the villain in her Sunday party.
Kiana placed her hands on her hips dramatically.
“Don’t underestimate the power of a teenage girl, Mr. Boring Roy. Speaker ko haath lagaya toh… main Mummy ko bula lungi.”
As if miracle happened, the melodramatic voice of Priti Roy, their mom, floated up from the ground floor.
“Kiana! Aakarsh! Ek Sunday ko ladayi mat kiya karo warna society wale phir se keh denge ki hum log dysfunctional family hai!”
Kiana smirked, lowering her voice.“See? Background music bhi aa gaya.”
Aakarsh groaned, muttered something about
“Greek gods deserve peace, not this drama”, and stormed out.
“Greek god? Tu toh Greek yoghurt bhi nahin hai!” Kiana shouted after him, nearly choking with laughter at her own roast.
Half an hour later, another chaos had erupted the Bathroom Olympics.
Kiana was locked inside the biggest bathroom with her hair dryer running.
Aakarsh kept banging on the door.“Kiana! Main bas brush karna chahta hoon. FIVE minutes, that’s it!”
Inside, she yelled back,
“Five minutes matlab tumhe pura ek ghanta chahiye! Mujhe ready hone do!”“You’re not going to Paris Fashion Week, stop wasting time!”
“Arre meri problem hai agar main heroine ban ke nikalti hoon toh!”
Just then, Priti Roy appeared in the corridor, arms crossed, pallu flying like Tulsi Virani herself.
“Bas karo tum dono! Shaadi-shuda log bhi itna nahin ladte jitna tum dono ladte ho!”
Aakarsh: “Mumma, batao na usse! Main late ho raha hoon library ke liye!”
Kiana (from inside)“Library? Bhaiya ko toh bas books se hi shaadi karni pdegi!”
Priti smacked her forehead.
“Bhagwan, ek ladka jo sirf padhai karta hai, ek ladki jo sirf natak karti hai. Mujhe hi paap bhugatna tha!”
Meanwhile, Anil Roy, their father, walked past sipping tea, completely unbothered.
“Drama ka TRP high hai, Priti. Continue karne do. Sunday ka free entertainment hai.”
After some time
The dining hall looked like it belonged in a glossy magazine chandeliers, polished table, steaming idlis and parathas lined up. But the vibe? Full on Chaos
Kiana plopped on the chair, scrolling Instagram reels.
“Mumma, aapko pata hai? Mere school ke half batch ne reels banake 10k likes le liya. Mujhe bhi karna hai.”
Aakarsh sat opposite her with his book, unimpressed.
“Great. Tumhe duniya ke saare problems solve karne ki zarurat hai na? Likes aur followers hi sab kuch hain.”
Kiana leaned forward, eyes sparkling.
“At least main zinda lagti hoon. Tum toh zombie jaisa ho. Agar kal ko girlfriend banayi toh woh bhi tumhe ghost kar degi.”
Aakarsh coughed on his juice, glaring.
“Girlfriend banane ke liye tumhari advice lena mujhe great tragedy lagti hai.”
Anil Roy chuckled,
“Aakarsh, tu tension mat le. Jab pyaar aata hai na… toh bookworm bhi filmy hero ban jata hai.”
Priti narrowed her eyes.
“Aur tumhe experience kahan se aaya, Anil?”
The table went silent for two seconds. Then Kiana burst out laughing.
“BUSTED, Papa!”
Later that evening, when the chaos had calmed and the house felt quieter, Kiana sat in the balcony, scrolling aimlessly.
Aakarsh appeared with two mugs of coffee.She raised an eyebrow.
“Coffee? Mere liye? Kya plan hai?”
He sat beside her, sighing.
“Plan yeh hai ki ek din toh hum bina ladayi ke nikal le. Impossible tho hai , but let’s try.”
Kiana softened, taking the mug.
“You’re not so bad, bhai. Kabhi kabhi lagta hai tum actually meri care karte ho.”
He smirked faintly.
“Kabhi kabhi? Don’t flatter yourself. Main bas tumhari overacting se society bachana chahta hoon.”
Kiana shoved him playfully.
“jahil insaan.”
And for the first time that Sunday, the Roy Mansion felt peaceful messy, dramatic, but full of love.
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