Santi smiled warmly at them. “Himanshu beta, Ajay beta… kaise ho tum dono? Divyansh ne bahut baat ki hai tumhari. Thank you dono ne isko sambhala hai.”
Her voice was soft but carried natural authority. She spoke to them like they were her own sons.
They helped carry her small suitcase upstairs. The flat was clean and organised — the boys had made sure. Santi walked in, looked around approvingly, then turned to Divyansh with that teacher-like gaze.
“Ab bata… woh problem kahan tak pahuncha hai? Main dekh leti hoon.”
Divyansh’s face burned. The secret of the redlight area sat like a stone in his stomach. The other two boys glanced at each other, sensing the tension but not knowing the full truth.
Santi set her bag down, removed her sandals, and looked at her son with a mix of worry and determination.
The day of her arrival had begun.
And nothing in the flat — or in their secret nightly world — was going to stay the same.
The moment Santi stepped into the flat, the three boys felt the shift in energy. She looked around the small 1BHK with sharp, approving eyes — the neatly made beds, the study table with books stacked properly, the clean floor. She nodded once.
“Accha rakha hai tum logon ne,” she said warmly. “Main soch rahi thi kitna ganda hoga, lekin theek hai.”
Divyansh was tense. Himanshu and Ajay could sense something private was about to happen between mother and son, but they didn’t know the real reason for her visit. They only thought it was about some “bed problem.”
Santi turned to Divyansh. “Beta, woh problem… abhi dikha do mujhe. Main dekh leti hoon.”
Before Divyansh could answer, Himanshu quickly understood the cue. He glanced at Ajay and said casually, “Aunty, hum dono kuch snacks laate hain bahar se. Fresh samosa aur chai ke liye cheezein. Aap log baat kar lo. Hum 15-20 minute mein aa jaate hain.”
Santi smiled at them. “Theek hai beta. Jao. Main yahin hoon.”
Himanshu and Ajay grabbed their wallets and left the flat without another word, giving the mother and son complete privacy. The door clicked shut behind them.
Santi looked at her son. “Chalo, bedroom mein chalo.”
They went inside the small bedroom. She first walked around, checking the cleanliness like a strict school teacher on inspection. She ran her finger along the window sill, opened the cupboard, checked under the bed, and even smelled the bedsheets.
“Kapde dhote ho? Bedsheet change karte ho? Room mein smell nahi aa rahi, achha hai. Par yeh jo problem hai na… uske baare mein batao properly.”
Divyansh stood near the bed, heart pounding. “Ma… woh… pubic area mein hai. Khujli bahut ho rahi thi. Maine medicine laga li thi lekin… abhi bhi thoda hai.”
Santi sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at him with that no-nonsense expression she used when teaching.
“Kaise hai abhi? Dikhao.”
Divyansh froze. His face turned red. “Ma… nahi… main khud dekh lunga. Aap mat…”
Santi’s voice was calm but firm, exactly like when she used to scold him as a child.
“I’m your mother and have already seen it many times. Don’t be shy. Show me.”
