Chapter 1
The Beginning
Author’s POV:
It’s a crisp, golden morning—the kind that dances on the edge of spring and summer. The sun is gentle, the air carries a whisper of dew, and somewhere in a quiet corner of the city, birds are chirping melodies of peace. But inside a particular cozy bedroom, time stands still.
Sanvi is still sleeping.
Now, don’t get me wrong—this isn’t just any sleep. This is the kind of sleep where you forget deadlines, alarms, and even the fact that your family is planning a brunch that might just change your life. Our sleeping beauty, as her family teasingly calls her, is in her element. Her blanket wrapped like a cocoon, her face buried in her favorite plush pillow, lips slightly parted, eyes shut tight against the cruel world of responsibility.
Yes, she lives by the motto: “Pran jaaye par neend na jaaye.”(Translation: Let anything happen, but don’t let sleep be compromised.)
If there were a hurricane raging outside, chances are Sanvi would just tug the blanket tighter. But this morning, the storm comes in the form of her mother.
A firm knock. Then another—louder.
Sanvi groans, dragging her sluggish body to the door, her eyelids protesting every movement. As she opens it, the sight that greets her is enough to jolt the most stubborn sleeper awake. Her mother, Swara, stands there with a ladle in hand—an expression of pure wrath on her face.
“Ma! Aapne toh uthte hi violence choose kar liya?” Sanvi steps back in mock horror, hands up in surrender.
Swara doesn’t budge. “Sanvi! Aaj baba ne bola tha jaldi uthna! Tumhari neend ka koi theka liya hai kya maine?”
“Maa, please... thoda volume low kar lo, maza aa jaye. Mujhe properly jaagne mein ek ghanta lagta hai,” Sanvi mutters, massaging her forehead as if the sheer act of waking up has given her a migraine.
Swara’s hand lands playfully but firmly on her daughter’s arm. “Pagal ladki, jaldi se ready ho ja. Aaj tere Baba aur Dadu ke saath jaana hai waha. Tumhe sab pata tha!”
Sanvi whines under her breath, “Inko Saturday ko bhi chain nahi hai...” She makes a crying face like the world’s most reluctant martyr.
“Chal, chal, mera bacha. Jaldi se fresh ho ja. Bohot acchi lagni chahiye tu,” Swara coos, immediately switching tones and pushing her into the bathroom with exaggerated affection.
Sanvi screams from inside, “I hate you, woman!”
Swara only chuckles and replies, “I love you too, mera drama queen.”
Inside the bathroom, Sanvi stands groggily with her toothbrush halfway to her mouth. She mumbles to herself, “Ye kaha-kaha fasa dete ho, Shivji... jis din sona hota hai usi din plans ban jaate hain.”
But slowly, the magic of the shower wakes her. The warm water does what no alarm clock could—revives her spirit. Soon enough, she’s transformed. Dressed in a graceful black salwar suit, she looks timeless. Her thick, kajal-lined eyes draw attention to her delicate features. As she stares at herself in the mirror, a smirk tugs at her lips.
“Kitni sundar lag rahi hoon main... kahin nazar na lag jaaye!”
She quickly wards off the evil eye from herself, crossing her arms around her head and tapping her forehead. Self-love isn’t vanity—it’s survival.
By the time she descends the stairs, the aroma of chai and toasted bread greets her. But so does the entire family—already assembled and waiting.
Ah yes, the brunch. Very fancy word, isn’t it? But before we get there, let me tell you a little something about Sanvi.
For the world, Sunday might be the weekend. For Sanvi, it’s Saturday. That’s her sacred day of rest. She works full-time at her own café—a dream she built brick by brick. While others chased skyscraper dreams, Sanvi chose something quaint: a cozy café with books, warmth, and quiet charm. People called it childish. They said she was wasting her potential, especially being the daughter of a renowned businessman.
But dreams aren’t measured by their size. They’re measured by their meaning.
While some let go of their dreams, Sanvi held on. Even when the path was lonely. Even when people scoffed. She poured in blood, sweat, tears, and sleepless nights. And today, her café stands tall—not grand, but glowing with everything she ever wanted.
And yet, she’s not done dreaming. She’s quietly working on something new—a restaurant, this time. No one knows yet. She doesn’t want help or shortcuts. It’s not pride. It’s about proving to herself that she can rise, again and again. On her own.
So yes, she has every right to be cranky about missing out on sleep.
As she enters the living room, her elder brother Ishaan immediately saunters over and taps her lightly on the head.
“Uth gayi, jaanwar?” he teases with a wide grin.
Sanvi glares at him, muttering, “Maar dungi jaan se.”
“Mummy, dekho! Apki beti mujhe jaan se maarne wali hai,” he declares dramatically.
“Sanaa!” Swara scolds in her signature warning tone.
Sanvi throws her hands up. “Aap logo ko subah se kya problem hai mujhse? Papa, dekho na, bhai mujhe tang kar raha hai!”
Her father chuckles and pulls her close. “Kyu pareshaan kar rahe ho meri bachi ko?”
That makes her smile. A real one. Small, but real. The kind that makes a parent’s heart sigh in relief. Lately, she hadn’t smiled much. Always busy, always tired. So when that smile appears, her family notices—and treasures it.
Ishaan notices, too. It reminds him of how fast she’s grown. Just yesterday, he was holding her tiny hand as she stumbled on baby steps. Today, she walks confidently through life—but hides her battles behind a strong facade.
Still, they share a bond that is quietly profound. She’s his heart, and he’s, her shield. A promise silently shared: no matter what happens, they come first for each other.
Soon, the rest of the family joins in. Her grandparents. Her aunt and uncle. Her younger cousins, Ruhi and Kabir.
“Chalein, guys?” Kabir exclaims with excitement.
Sanvi raises an eyebrow at his enthusiasm, only to find Ishaan smirking like he knows something she doesn’t.
He leans in and whispers, “Baad mein batata Hoon. Tu bas dekh, aaj kya hota hai.”
Now that has her curious. Her crankiness melts a bit as intrigue takes its place. Something’s up—and Sanvi, no matter how tired, never backs down from good drama.
They all head out, piling into cars, laughter and bickering echoing in the background. Destination: Raghuwanshi Mansion. A brunch that promises to be much more than just food and formalities.
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I have started this book with so much love.
What to share is the story which always stayed inside my head but never got the chance to be expressed, then I found a way to express things through writing, So this is a book containing all the things which I could never have or didn’t get to experience.
Tell me what you all think about it.
Will try to update regularly
Love Riri.
