Beach Roadside, Aroma Colony, Fifth House—where the environment was often as chaotic as a tsunami. A wide, broad, and lovely house stood there, enclosed with neatly fixed wooden fencing. The marigold flowers, a sturdy badam tree, a pomegranate, and a jamun tree shaded the pathway. The serene charm of the house was almost deceptive, for inside, it was a different story.
At the heart of the house stood Saraswati Devi Dadiji, 63 years old, the matriarch and the proud owner of the home. Her deep, thoughtful gaze alternated between the slow-turning ceiling fan and the kitchen, her mind racing with thoughts.
She sighed, walking toward the hall where an array of photo frames adorned the wall. One particular frame caught her eye—a picture of Manohar, her late husband, his hair white and his mustache thick, standing proud and composed. But as she looked at it longer, the image of her stylish grandson, Rishi, flashed in her mind. She chuckled softly at the resemblance.
Saraswati Devi had made up her mind. As the grandmother of Rishi, she knew it was time for action. She moved toward the telephone—a relic from the 80s, a black-and-white rotary phone that had seen countless calls over the decades.
Her fingers dialed a number, the clinking sound of the dialer almost as familiar as her thoughts about Rishi’s future. She paused for a moment, wondering about the outcome of this call, but with a firm resolve, she waited for the line to connect.
•••••
From the Udipi hotel, the rich aroma of freshly brewed filter coffee spread like a warm hug, blending perfectly with the tantalizing smells of hot upma and idli. The air was alive with the scent, pulling everyone in like a magnetic force.
Rishi leaned back in his chair, savoring the moment. “Ah, yaar Rishab! This… this is what life’s all about. A plate of soft, delicious idli, a hot filter coffee in hand, a peaceful stroll on the beach. And then, when we get home, lying down on the bed, gazing at the moon until we slowly drift off into deep sleep—now that’s called life.”
Just as he was sinking into the bliss of his own words, Rishi’s phone started ringing loudly, breaking the serenity. He shot a sharp look at Rishab, irritation flashing across his face.
Rishab looked confused. “Why are you looking at me like that? It’s your phone ringing, not mine.”
Rishi grumbled. “You’re the only person who ever calls me. So if my phone’s ringing, it’s either you or—wait, my Dadiji.”
He checked the display, and there it was, the name flashing: “Lady Don (Dadiji).”
Rishab laughed out loud. “Who’s this Lady Don?”
Rishi rolled his eyes. “Stupid, that’s my grandma.”
Rishab couldn’t contain his laughter. “Why did you give her that name?”
“Because she’s always giving me lectures. Every single day it’s the same: ‘Do a job, find a job, get settled.’ I’m fed up with it! She’s like a don, man—constantly on my case!” Rishi sighed dramatically, but there was a glint of fondness in his eyes.
Rishab chuckled. “I see, the Lady Don strikes again.”
“Yeah, and this time, I know exactly what she’s going to say.” Rishi took a deep breath before reluctantly answering the call, already bracing himself for another round of job talk.
Shall I answer the call?” Rishab asked, a little too eagerly.
“For what are you waiting?” Rishi replied, rolling his eyes.
Rishab picked up the phone, “Hello?”
On the other end, an irritated voice snapped, “Is this number 9-2-4-6-2-0-2-6-1?”
Rishab, a bit taken aback, replied, “No, this is 92, 46, 20, 26, 1.”
There was a pause, then a sharp retort, “If I beat you with a badam stick, your head will crack into pieces! Hand the phone to that useless fellow next to you, idiot!”
Rishab blinked in disbelief. “Dadi, how did you even guess it was me who answered the call?”
“Because no one other than you would be wasting time with that lazy Rishi! No job, no marriage, no wife—who else could it be?”
Rishab stifled a laugh. “Dadi, is something serious? Why are you so mad?”
Her voice suddenly became dramatic, “The issue is serious enough to bring tears to my eyes! I’m about to end it all! I’ve already placed a stool by the bed and tied my Kanchipuram saree to the ceiling fan—the one your Dadaji bought me. Now I’m going to tie it around my neck.”
“DADIIIIIIII!” Rishab screamed, startling everyone around.
Customers in the hotel looked up, alarmed.
“You’re scaring the entire hotel!” Rishi muttered while sipping his coffee.
Rishab, still panicked, whispered urgently, “If you heard what she just said, you’d run straight home!”
Without waiting for more words, Rishab darted off, then hurried back to Rishi, panting.
“What’s wrong with you? Why did you run away, and now why are you running back?” Rishi asked, still sipping calmly.
Rishab shot him an exasperated look. “In the movies and serials, whenever someone delivers bad news, they always run dramatically with the background sound going ‘Dun! Dun!’”
“What are you even talking about?” Rishi asked.
“It’s really bad, bro! Dadi’s going to… she’s… I’m not even sure how to explain it! Just know, she’s about to hang herself!” Rishab said breathlessly.
Why? What happened?” Rishi asked nonchalantly, taking another sip of coffee.
“ARE YOU JOKING RIGHT NOW? We need to go! Now!” Rishab nearly shouted, grabbing Rishi’s arm.
“Let me finish my coffee first. I don’t like wasting good filter coffee.” Rishi shrugged.
“Rishi, I’m serious!”
“Okay, fine, you go stop her, and I’ll come right behind you.” Rishi waved him off, casually.
“No! We’re going together!” Rishab insisted, dragging Rishi toward the door. “Auto, auto! Come here!”
“Why auto?” Rishi asked, mildly irritated. “We can just take the bus.”
Rishab gave him a look of disbelief. “My grandmother is threatening to hang herself, and you want to take the bus?!”
“But there’s a money problem,” Rishi said, glaring at Rishab. “We barely had enough for this coffee, and now, like some hero, you’re calling an auto? Who’s going to pay for that, huh? You, baldy fool?”
Rishab felt like his brain had frozen, unsure of what to do next. Meanwhile, Rishi leaned out and addressed the auto driver, “Sir, you may go now,” he said with an exaggerated politeness.
The auto driver, clearly surprised by the sudden respectful tone, gave Rishi a skeptical look before adjusting his collar like a gentleman. “Okay, sir, nice to meet you,” he said, and drove off.
Just as the auto disappeared down the road, Rishab realized something—someone was still angrily shouting. He glanced down at Rishi’s phone, which was still connected. Granny hadn’t hung up, and she was continuing her tirade without taking a breath.
“Granny?” Rishab said, half in shock.
Her response was a flurry of high-level grammatically complicated insults. Words so sophisticated that Rishab couldn’t even begin to understand what kind of language she was using.
“Granny, please!” Rishab pleaded.
“You brainless fools! You both better be here within ten minutes, or I swear I’ll write a suicide note blaming you two for my death, and then I’ll hang myself!” she threatened furiously.
“Graaaaannnnyyy!” Rishab yelled, but it was too late. The call had been cut off.
He turned to Rishi, eyes wide with panic, “What do we do now?”
•••••
Rishi and Rishab rushed into the house, Rishab’s face pale and his heart racing as if he were on the brink of a heart attack, while Rishi seemed surprisingly calm.
Rishab’s eyes widened in shock when he spotted Granny, casually sitting on the bed, devouring a plate of biryani placed on a small stool next to her. The elegant saree she had tied around her neck added to the scene.
“Granny!” Rishab exclaimed, a mix of relief and confusion flooding through him.
Rishi sauntered over and sat down beside her, taking in the delicious aroma wafting from the biryani. “Ah! What a delicious aroma! Where did you get this biryani?”
“From the dhaba. Do I really need to explain every detail now? Let me eat quickly; I still have to hang myself,” Granny replied nonchalantly.
“Well, if you’ve already decided to die, at least don’t waste the biryani!” Rishi joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Granny shot a glare at Rishab, who stood frozen like a statue. “Rishab, tell this idiot I won’t talk to anyone who doesn’t listen to me!”
Rishab blinked and glanced at Rishi, unsure how to respond.
“Don’t even think about lecturing me,” Rishi said, rolling his eyes. “I’m feeling sleepy. Just let me know when the hanging plan is over. And don’t wake me up if I fall into a deep sleep.” He stuffed his mouth with biryani and added, “Mmm, this is really tasty…” as he ambled toward the door.
Granny continued eating, looking more annoyed by Rishi’s casual attitude.
“Oh God! What a family!” Rishab muttered, holding his head in disbelief.
