01

"Move quickly, Gurmeet ji. We're already so late," Rajinder Kaur  said, applying sindoor in the parting of her hair as she glanced at the clock.

Her husband, Gurmeet Singh Dhillon, sat calmly on the edge of the bed, still tying his shoelace like time didn't apply to him.

"Rajjo ji, shaant ho jaaiye. BP badh jayega nahi toh," he replied, standing up and finally ready.

["Rajjo ji, please calm down. Otherwise, your blood pressure will rise."]

"The jet can't take off without us anyway. After all, mere pyo da jet hai," Maanveer said with a wink, casually biting into an apple as he jumped onto the bed and turned on the TV.

["The jet can't take off without us anyway. After all, it's my father's jet."]

Rajinder narrowed her eyes at him through the mirror.
"Maanveer, I swear to God, dare you disrespect any of us again and I'll throw you out of that jet mid-air."

"Where's the disrespect? I'm just stating facts," he said with a shrug, completely unfazed.

She turned around slowly, now fully facing him. Her gaze swept over his posture.
Lying on the bed with his shoes still on, remote in one hand and an apple in the other.

At that moment, he looked like the very definition of a spoiled brat.

Her eyes narrowed as she took slow and deliberate steps, like a lioness walking towards her prey. 

Little did Maanveer know, what was coming next, but he was just so used to it now. He just sat there, still unfazed and watching the television.

She came to a stop beside him, fists clenched.

In one swift move, she grabbed the collar of his jacket. His body instinctively turned, trying to shield himself, but that shield was her exact target.

She landed a strong punch right on his back.

"Ouch Maa, it hurts!" he yelped, clutching the spot dramatically.

She stood over him, calm but savage.

"Hun vi kuj kehna baaki aa?" she asked, a sarcastic smile curling on her lips.

["Anything else left to say now?"]

From the corner of the room, his father chuckled looking at the chaos unfolding before him.

Just then, Paramjeet walked into the room, his jacket slung over one shoulder and a coffee cup in hand.

"Wait Dad, weren't you supposed to stay back and handle all the work?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he placed the cup on the side table.

"Uh, beta... voh, work can be handled online. Your father wants to visit his hometown too," Gurmeet said, feigning innocence.

Paramjeet sighed, already feeling a headache coming.

"Maa, there's honestly no point of us going," he said, taking off his jacket and settling into the chair, eyes glued to his phone.
"It's been years since we last visited the village. We barely know anyone there.... except tau ji and Seerat."

His mother still fuming, looked at him with narrowed eyes, as if locking her next prey. 

Then, without a sound, she bent slightly, slipped off one of her sandal, and stood still, waiting for him to finish what he was saying.

Across the room, Maanveer and Gurmeet had now completely abandoned the TV, their eyes fixed on the real drama unfolding before them.

The remote lay forgotten, the apple hung mid-air in Maanveer's hand.
Even Gurmeet paused halfway through strapping on his watch. 

The house was silent and the target had no idea.

"I am not going," He said still focused on his phone. 

"You three can go-" 

Chataak.

The sandal flew straight at him, smacking his arm with perfect aim. He flinched hard as his phone slipped from his hands and hit the floor.

"Chal raha hoon," he muttered, sitting upright and stealing a quick glance at his mother.

["I am coming"]

"What a shot, Maa!" Maanveer cheered from the bed, clapping like an impressed audience.
Rajinder ignored him completely.

Her glare stayed fixed on Paramjeet. The kind of glare that made the entire house go quiet.

After a beat, Paramjeet bent down slowly to pick up his phone, his eyes still cautiously on his mother. He gave her a sheepish smile as he stood up, then casually stepped beside his father, nudging him gently to handle the situation. 

Rajinder finally looked away, exhaling heavily as she rubbed her forehead.

"Guri ji, aapke bachon ne pareshaan kar rakha hai mujhe," she muttered, shaking her head.

["Guri ji, your kids have really tested my patience!"]

"Leave them, Rajjo ji," Gurmeet said warmly, walking over and placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Kal India pohoch kar aapko aapka favourite ganne ka juice pilayenge."

["Once we reach India tomorrow, I'll get you your favourite sugarcane juice."]

He smiled and gently led her out of the room, turning back for a moment to gesture the boys to bring out the bags.

Paramjeet and Maanveer looked at each other, their expressions blank for a second, then they burst into laughter, unable to hold it in.

"Rajjo ji ko sirf unke Guri ji hi shaant kar sakte hain," Maanveer said with a shake of his head, bending to pick up the luggage.

["Only her Guri ji can calm Rajjo ji down."]

"True that," Paramjeet replied with a chuckle, slinging a bag over his shoulder.

☆☆☆☆☆

The ride to the airport turned out to be surprisingly peaceful. The main source of chaos, Maanveer had dozed off midway, head comfortably resting on his mother's shoulder, leaving behind a rare moment of calm.

Rajinder Kaur looked down at her younger son, her lips pursed but eyes softening as she gently adjusted the shawl around his neck. 

Paramjeet, sitting across from them, noticed the quiet moment and smiled to himself. Then he looked out of the window, taking in the streets of London one last time before they started their journey back to their village.  

Soon, the family settled into their seats on the private jet. Gurmeet was still scrolling through Facebook, occasionally chuckling at the dad jokes videos that appeared on his feed. 

Rajinder and Maanveer, wrapped up in a blanket, were fully invested in Hum Saath Saath Hain, whispering comments to each other like they'd never seen it before.

Paramjeet sat a little apart, a sketchbook resting on his lap, a pencil between his fingers. He wasn't really drawing, just letting the pencil glide with the slow drift of clouds outside the window. 

The wings of the plane cut through the sky, and he watched them for a long moment before his hand moved again. 

Soon, they all fell asleep. After nine hours, they landed safely in Amritsar.

"Feels good to be back," Paramjeet whispered to himself. 

He had always wanted to return to his hometown, but what scared him the most was getting attached again. It had taken a lot of courage to leave everything behind and move to London ten years ago.

He didn't want to go through that pain again. But deep down...he still longed to feel at home.

Gurbaaz Dhillon, his Tau ji had come to receive them at the airport. It was 9 PM, and the sky had already turned dark.

One by one, the family members bowed down and touched his feet to take his blessings. He placed a warm hand on each of their heads. His eyes lingered a second longer on Paramjeet, who looked back with a soft smile. 

"Aaja puttar, gaddi uthe khadi aa," He said warmly, pointing towards the gypsy parked near the exit.

["Come, child, the car is parked outside."]

All of them climbed into the Gypsy as Gurbaaz took the wheel. The ride back home was quiet and nostalgic. Each of them felt a wave of emotion wash over them as they returned to their hometown after so many years. They passed familiar roads, noticing the same old shops with flickering lights outside.

Paramjeet observed that even after ten years, the area had remained unchanged. Somehow, it didn't feel right as there had been no progress, no development at all.

After a 2.5-hour ride, they finally reached their village, Ranjhgarh. The Gypsy stopped, and dust rose into the air as the tires came to a halt.

The lane where their house stood was very quiet. Everything felt still and calm. The only sound was the sharp cry of a white owl, coming from somewhere nearby. In the distance, they could see a well, barely visible in the darkness, standing quietly like it had always been there.

"Baccho, bring the bags inside," Gurmeet called out to his kids as he walked into the haveli, chatting with his elder brother.

Paramjeet and Maanveer jumped out of the car, stretching their arms and legs after the long ride. Without wasting any time, they got to work.

As usual, Maanveer being the clever one, grabbed the two lightest bags and rushed inside, leaving Paramjeet behind with the two heaviest ones.

"Bachpan se hi harami raha hai ye, no doubt," Paramjeet muttered with a sigh.

["No doubt, he's been a little rascal since he was a kid."]

"Time to show your gym skills Param," He said to himself, as he slid his kada up until it rested firmly on his forearm, then began lifting the heavy bags from the car.

He dropped them gently on the ground, stretched once more with a yawn, and started pulling the wheel bags towards the haveli.

Just as he began walking, a sound caught his attention. It felt nearby, but still oddly distant.

He stopped in his tracks, his eyes searching the stillness around him, but saw nothing.
"I must be too sleepy that I am imagining sounds," he thought, shaking his head.

He started walking again, but there it was, the sound again. Louder this time.

He stopped.

The sound was coming from near the well.

His eyebrows pulled together as he looked carefully, trying to see where the sound was coming from.

Then suddenly, he saw someone run past the well, fast, like a shadow. The figure was gone in a second.

A chill ran down his spine as the sound kept echoing from the next lane. A sound he was very familiar with. 

The sound of jhanjhar.

[Jhanjhar  is a Punjabi word used for heavy anklets that women often wear.]

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Thank you so much for reading the first chapter of HER SARDAR.
I hope you enjoyed it and felt connected to the characters and setting. 

Do let me know your thoughts about the chapter in the comments section!

love<3.