मटरगश्ती खुली सड़क में
तगड़ी तड़क भड़क में
ओले गिरे सुलगते से
सुलगते से सड़क में.........

The heavy gates of the Rathore Mansion creaked shut as Indu’s vintage car rolled out. Indu and Dristi were off to the city's finest silk weavers to pick out fabrics for the "Triple Engagement" that was now the talk of the household.

"Don't burn the house down!" Indu had shouted from the window.

"And no more 'Truth or Teekha' rounds!" Dristi added with a warning glare.

As soon as the car vanished around the corner, the silence in the living room became... suspicious.

Shresth slumped onto the sofa, finally free from the "Sanskari" posture he’d been maintaining. "Finally! The wardens are gone. I feel like a prisoner who just got a weekend pass."

Yatra went to the kitchen to find some to eat and remove the sweetness in her mouth , Shresth , Shaurya , Isha and Madhu were talking with each other and Mantavya was reading book."Bhai, stop pretending to read. We know you’re just trying to look dignified because Yatra is in the room." said Isha

Mantavya didn't look up from his page, but a small smile played on his lips. "I am actually reading, Isha. It’s a manual on 'How to Survive a Family of Hackers and Spies.' Very relevant."

Yatra finally found some raw mangoes hidden in the cupboards of the kitchen and shouted from the kitchen , "Kacchi keri kise khaani hai?"

Hall se poori ki poori toli aate hue. Yatra was standing there knife in her hand , sleeves rolled up and cutting the kacch keris , took the salt and chilli powder and sprinkled it on the pieces of kaachi keri. Shresth and Shaurya said , " Daadi ne yeh aam ko chhod kar galti kardi." Yatra took out a few newspaper pieces and kept equal pieces in the paper and slided towards each member and said , "Authentic Hyderabad ki galliyon ki yaad dila dungi. Thele par woh aam , aur unka khattapan."

Shresth said , "Unhe laga hum Gulab Jamun se haar jayenge, par unhe kya pata ki hamari 'System Recovery' Yatra ke haath mein hai!"

Shaurya hissed as the chili hit his tongue, but he didn't stop. "Uff! Yeh mirch... yeh khatta... Behen, tune toh soul-purification kar di."

Isha and Madhu were giggling, leaning against the counter and eating with their fingers, completely forgetting their "Rajput Princess" training. "Honestly," Isha said, wiping a speck of chili from her lip, "if Bua saw us eating off a newspaper right now, she’d probably faint. Which makes this taste ten times better."

Mantavya looked at his portion on the newspaper. He picked up a slice, the red chili powder staining his thumb, and took a bite. The sharp, raw tang of the mango hit him instantly, followed by the slow burn of the spice.

He closed his eyes for a second, then looked at Yatra. "Purity, Yatra ji. Literature mein hum ise 'Catharsis' kehte hain—purification of emotions through a shock to the senses. Aapne toh bina ek shabd bole humein 'Sanskari' darr se azad kar diya."

Yatra leaned back, her sleeves still rolled up, a faint smear of salt on her forearm. She looked at the group—her chaotic brothers, her new sisters, and the Professor who was currently enjoying a "Thele-wala" snack on a newspaper.

"Enjoy kijiye," Yatra said with a small, genuine smile. "Kyunki jab tak Nanisa wapas aayengi, humein wapas 'Disciplined' banna padega. But for the next two hours... the mansion belongs to the Hackers and the Poets."

After eating they quickly cleaned the kitchen and went to the hall and sat on the sofa. Isha and Madhu said together , "Hum bore ho rahe hai , yahan kuch interesting karne ke liye hai?"

Shresth stretched his arms, looking at Yatra. "Behen, tere paas toh poora Control Room hai. Kuch toh adventurous hoga is kile mein? Any secret passages? Any hidden cameras we can prank?"

Shaurya smirked, glancing at Mantavya. "Ya phir Jijaji humein Jodhpur ki koi aisi 'Ghost Story' sunayenge jo unhone kisi purani kitaab mein padhi ho? Imagine... midnight in the Rathore Mansion with a resident Bhoot."

Yatra leaned back, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. She looked at Mantavya, who had finally set his book aside for good. "Interesting?" she mused. "Interesting toh bahut kuch hai. But it depends... are you guys ready to see the 'Unfiltered' history of the Rathores and the Jaiswals?"

She reached under the heavy teak coffee table and pulled out a small, sleek tablet that was hidden in a magnetic dock. With a few quick taps, the massive 85-inch 8K television on the wall flickered to life, but it wasn't showing cable TV. It was a grid of stylized folders, all encrypted.

"Nanisa and Mom think I only hack for safety," Yatra said, her eyes glinting. "But when you're bored and stuck in a mansion for years, you find things. Like the 'Rathore Bloopers' archive."

Mantavya leaned forward, genuinely intrigued. "Bloopers? You mean you have footage of the family... being themselves?"

"Exactly," Yatra grinned. "I have the CCTV archives from the last ten years. I’ve compiled a 'Greatest Hits' reel. Want to see Shresth and Shaurya trying to learn the Rajasthani Ghoomar dance when they were twelve? Or Nanisa trying to use a voice assistant for the first time?"

"EY! NO!" Shresth jumped up, trying to grab the tablet. "Yatra, woh Ghoomar wali video delete karne ke liye maine tujhe apni ek mahine ki pocket money di thi!"

"Maine kaha tha main 'Delete' kar dungi," Yatra said, dodging him effortlessly. "Maine ye nahi kaha tha ki main 'Backup' nahi rakhungi. Hacker rules, Bhai."

Madhu clapped her hands in delight. "Please, Yatra! Shaurya ko Ghoomar karte huye dekhna meri life ka goal hai. Play it!"

Mantavya chuckled, looking at the chaotic scene. "It seems, Isha, that 'Interesting' just walked into the room. Or rather, it was projected onto the wall."

He looked at Yatra, his voice softening. "Vaise, Yatra ji... is archive mein kya mere liye bhi koi 'Shock' hai? Ya main sirf ek spectator hoon?"

Yatra paused, her thumb hovering over the screen. She looked at him, her smirk softening into something more private. "Waise mere paas Rathires and Jaiswals ke alawa , Rajputs ke videos bhi hai. Dekhoge?"

Isha and Madhu froze, their hands halfway to the bowl of snacks they had brought from the kitchen. "Rajputs ke videos?" Isha whispered, her eyes widening. "Yatra, tune Jodhpur ke Palace ke servers mein bhi sendh (breach) laga di?"

Yatra didn't look at them; her eyes were fixed on Mantavya, challenging him. "Sendh lagane ki zaroorat nahi padi, Isha Di. Jab aapke 'Bade Papa' ne business meetings ke liye hamare cloud servers use kiye, toh unhone apna 'Personal Gallery' access bhi wahin chhod diya. Safe toh woh tha... par ek bored 17-saal ki ladki ke liye nahi."

She looked at Mantavya. "Toh Professor Sahab? Kya khayal hai? Aapki woh video dikhaun jab aapne pehli baar apni 'Pehli Mohabbat' ke liye kavita likhi thi aur use aaine (mirror) ke saamne rehearse kar rahe the? Ya phir woh wala... jab aapne 'Sanskari' hone ka natak karte huye kitchen mein chhup kar mirchi ka achaar churaya tha?"

Mantavya let out a dry, appreciative laugh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Aine ke saamne kavita? Yatra ji, aapne toh meri 'Dignity' ka post-mortem hi kar diya."

"EY! JIJAJI BHI HUMARI CATEGORY MEIN HAIN!" Shaurya roared with laughter, high-fiving a relieved Shresth.

Then Yatra started playing the complications of the Rathore Mansion and Rajput Haveli. She also showed how Buaji was trying to wear a modern dress , and also trying to dance.

"Ab thoda 'International' tadka dekhte hain," Yatra said, her eyes glinting with pure mischief as she swiped her tablet.

The screen split. On the left was the Rathore Mansion's CCTV from last Diwali, and on the right, the Rajput Haveli's inner courtyard from a summer wedding.

Isha and Madhu shrieked in unison as a video labeled "The Secret Transformation" began to play. It was Mandakini Bua. The woman who usually walked as if she had a ruler taped to her spine and spoke only in high-born Sanskrit-heavy Hindi was on screen... in a dressing room.

She was struggling—truly struggling—to zip up a bright, sequined modern evening gown. Her face was a mask of concentration, her royal bun slightly disheveled.

"Nahi! Yeh nahi ho sakta!" Shresth yelled, clutching his stomach. "Bua? Sequins? Is she trying to be a disco ball?!"

Shaurya was literally rolling on the floor. "Look at her trying to walk in those heels! She looks like a newborn giraffe trying to find its balance!"

But the "Grand Finale" was yet to come. The video transitioned to Bua in front of a full-length mirror, making sure the doors were locked. She plugged in a small speaker, and a heavy-bass item song started playing. Slowly, tentatively, the terrifying Mandakini Bua started attempting a hook step.

It was a mix of a classical Kathak move and a very confused "Thumka."

Mantavya buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "Yatra ji... please... stop. If she finds out this exists, she won't just exile us, she'll delete our names from the family history books."

"Don't worry, Professor," Yatra laughed, finally leaning back and enjoying the havoc she had caused. "This is on a double-encrypted server. It’s my 'In Case of Emergency' file. If she ever tries to fix my marriage with some boring businessman again, I’m just going to AirDrop this to the Jodhpur Royal Council."

Isha wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "Yatra, you are dangerous. Seriously. I used to be scared of Bua, but now? Now I’ll just see her doing that thumka every time she scolds me."

Madhu looked at Yatra with newfound respect. "Tumne sirf hacking nahi ki, tumne toh humein 'Freedom' de di. Hum sabko lagta tha humaare bade log 'Perfect' hain. Par yahan toh sab ke sab 'Matargashti' kar rahe hain chhup kar."

Mantavya looked up, his eyes bright. He looked at the screen, then at the chaotic, laughing group, and finally at Yatra. The "Matargashti" wasn't just about the videos; it was about the walls coming down.

"Sahi kaha, Madhu," Mantavya said, his voice warm. "Hum sab ek 'Role' play kar rahe the. Professor, Kunwar, Sanskari Beti, Hacker... par asaliyat toh is digital kachre (trash) mein chhupi thi."

He turned to Yatra. "Vaise, Yatra ji... itna sab dikha diya. Ab 'Hacker' ki apni koi matargashti nahi hai is archive mein? Ya aapne apne saare 'Bloopers' pehle hi wipe kar diye?"

The twins stopped laughing and looked at Yatra. Shresth smirked. "Haan, Behen! Tera koi video nahi hai? Woh wala jab tune 14 saal ki umar mein Dad ki car 'borrow' ki thi aur garage ka darwaza thoda... 'reshape' kar diya tha?"

Yatra's smile falters and she said , "woh shayad n..nahi hogi." But too late Shaurya already snatched the tab from her hands and played the file named , 'the greatest Punchnama'. Yatra tries to take the tab from Shaurya but already played. The videos started playing , few of her painting , driving the car at the age of 14 , running behind Shresth for eating her favorite chips.

Then suddenly a video played widening Yatra's eyes. It was the clip when she was 16 years. In the middle of the night , she sneaked to the dance room and played 'Ami Je Tomar' and started her classical dance , then she quickly threw her payals and played 'Main Agar Kahoon' and then 'Dil Ibadat' and started dancing in contemporary. While dancing on Dil Ibadat , they found tears falling from her eyes showing the emotions of the song was actually shown in her dance.

Then the clip changes to sitting on the stairs in the middle of the night singing 'Muskanein Jhoothi Hai' to scare Shresth and Shaurya. The whole mansion echoed with her voice making the Jaiswal brother feel the horrors again.

On the screen, a 10-year-old Yatra was sitting perfectly still on the grand, shadow-drenched staircase. Her long hair was brushed forward, partially obscuring her face, and she was wearing a plain white nightgown. She looked exactly like a vengeful spirit from a Jodhpur folk tale.

Suddenly, her voice—low, melodic, and terrifyingly cold—began to echo through the recorded hallways.

"Muskanein jhoothi hain... Pehchane jhoothi hain..."

The acoustics of the marble hall on the video made her voice sound like it was coming from everywhere at once. The screen then showed a secondary 'Picture-in-Picture' view: the bedroom door of the Jaiswal Twins slowly creaking open. Two terrified silhouettes (Shresth and Shaurya) poked their heads out, trembling, as the eerie singing reached a crescendo.

"Waqt ka rukh badal raha hai..."

In the video, the twins let out a synchronized, high-pitched yelp and slammed their door shut, the sound of a heavy bolt sliding into place audible even in the recording.

Shresth and Shaurya jumped off the sofa as if they had been electrocuted. The color drained from their faces, their "Kacchi Keri" bravado completely vanishing.

"TERI WAJAH SE!" Shresth yelled, pointing a shaking finger at Yatra. "Shaurya, tujhe yaad hai? Humne teen din tak Hanuman Chalisa ka paath kiya tha! Humein laga tha Dadaji ki rooh bhatak rahi hai!"

Shaurya was hugging a throw pillow for dear life. "Humne ek hafte tak light off karke nahi soya tha! Tune kaha tha ki purane gharon mein 'Gayika Atmas' (Singer Souls) hoti hain! You psychopath!"

Isha and Madhu were howling with laughter, clutching their sides. "Yatra! You used 'Ami Je Tomar' skills to scare them? That is sheer brilliance!"

Mantavya was trying his best to remain a "Dignified Professor," but he was failing miserably. He was leaning against the bookshelf, shaking with laughter. "Muskanein jhoothi hain? Yatra ji, aapka 'Psychological Warfare' toh kisi bhi textbook se behtar hai. To target the Jaiswal imagination... it’s a masterstroke."

Yatra, despite the lingering tears from the previous dance clip, couldn't help but let out a mischievous giggle. "Tum dono meri secret chocolates chura rahe the. Maine bas 'Interest' ke saath vasool kiya."

"Interest?!" Shresth cried out. "Tune hamari mental health ka 'System Crash' kar diya tha!"

The laughter was cut short by the sound of a car horn outside.

"DOCK THE TAB! NOW!" Yatra commanded.

The chaos that followed was like a silent comedy. Shresth tripped over the carpet, Shaurya almost threw the tablet into a flower vase, and Madhu frantically wiped a stray chili-powder stain from the coffee table.

By the time Indu Rathore and Dristi walked through the front door, the six of them were a picture of absolute, boring perfection.

Indu stopped, looking at Shresth and Shaurya, who were breathing suspiciously hard. "Shresth? Shaurya? Tum dono itne peele kyun dikh rahe ho? Jaise koi bhoot dekh liya ho?"

Shresth gulped, casting a terrified side-eye at Yatra. "N-nahi Dadi. Bas... architecture discuss kar rahe the. Bahut 'Gehri' (Deep) baatein thi."

Indu hummed, unconvinced. She looked at Yatra, whose eyes were still a tiny bit red. "Aur tum, Yatra? Tumhe kya hua?"

Mantavya stepped in smoothly, his voice a calm anchor. "Hum sab 'Dil Ibadat' ke maayno (meaning) par bahas kar rahe the, Nanisa. It was an emotional discussion on poetry. Yatra ji got a bit... passionate about the logic."

Dristi smiled warmly, touching Yatra’s cheek. "Chalo, accha hai. Kam se kam tum log saath mein waqt toh bita rahe ho."

As the elders walked toward the kitchen, Yatra exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding. She looked at the group—the terrified twins, the laughing sisters, and the Professor who had just covered for her with a lie that was half-truth.

Mantavya leaned in closer to Yatra as they followed the others. "Vaise," he whispered, "Woh 'Muskanein' wali video... kya uska koi modern version mil sakta hai? Sirf mere liye?"

Yatra looked at him, her smirk returning. "Uske liye aapko pehle meri chocolate churani padegi, Professor Sahab. Aur yaad rakhiyega... main 'Achar' (Pickle) bhi bahut khatarnak banati hoon."