Morning in the Singhania house was anything but quiet.

By the time the first rays of sun slipped through the curtains, the smell of ginger tea and frying pooris drifted upstairs, mingling with the faint sounds of someone scolding a child for not brushing his teeth.

Sanya sat up in bed, still in her bridal bangles and a loose braid from the night before. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock — 6:15 AM.

Her father’s house never woke this early.

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She tiptoed to the wardrobe, pulled out a simple pastel salwar suit she had packed, and tried to tame her hair in front of the small mirror. Her mother had always said a new bride must make a good first impression on her husband’s family.

And so, determined, she decided she would help in the kitchen.

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The Kitchen Scene

The kitchen was a battlefield of spices. Steel utensils clinked, oil sizzled, and the air was thick with the smell of breakfast.

“Ah, our new bahu is awake,” said Yuvraj’s mother, smiling warmly. “Come, come, have some tea.”

“I’ll help,” Sanya offered quickly, pushing back her nervousness.

The older woman chuckled. “Are you sure? First day, you should rest.”

But Sanya insisted. After all, how hard could making tea be? She had seen it done hundreds of times.

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Disaster, Exhibit A: The Milk Incident

She reached for the milk packet, cut it open a little too forcefully, and — splash — half of it spilled onto the counter, dripping down into the sugar container.

“Oh no!” she gasped, grabbing a cloth. In her rush to clean it, she accidentally knocked over the spoon stand, sending metal spoons clattering onto the floor.

A little boy peeked from the doorway, whispering to his sister, “Bhabhi is attacking the kitchen.”

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Disaster, Exhibit B: The Cup Catastrophe

By the time she finally managed to make a cup of tea, she was sweating slightly and praying it tasted decent. She placed the cup on a tray and carried it to the dining table, where Yuvraj was reading the morning newspaper.

She set the cup down in front of him, proud of herself — until the handle of the cup slipped from her fingers.

The tea spilled onto the table, narrowly missing his hand.

“I— I’m so sorry!” she blurted, reaching for a napkin.

He looked at the mess, then at her, one eyebrow raised. “That’s… a bold way to start the day.”

His tone wasn’t angry. In fact, if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn there was the faintest trace of amusement in his voice.

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Family Entertainment

The rest of the family had gathered now — his mother, an aunt, two cousins. They all pretended to hide their smiles, though the children didn’t bother.

One cousin whispered, “She’s going to keep things interesting around here.”

Sanya wanted the floor to swallow her. But then, unexpectedly, Yuvraj took the napkin from her hand and wiped the spill himself.

“Accidents happen,” he said simply, going back to his newspaper.

It wasn’t much. But in that moment, she realised — he hadn’t mocked her. He hadn’t scolded her.

He had let it pass.

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The First Smile

After breakfast, as she helped clear the table, she caught him watching her from the corner of his eye. Not in a romantic way — more like he was quietly assessing this whirlwind of clumsiness that had just entered his life.

When she accidentally bumped into the chair leg and muttered “Ow,” she could have sworn the corner of his mouth lifted into a real smile before he quickly turned away.

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She didn’t know it yet, but this was how it would begin — not with grand gestures or poetic confessions, but with small, ordinary moments in an ordinary house.

Moments that would one day make this stranger feel like home.

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