Apulki Chapter 7 – The Yes That Changed Everything
- Hansa
- 2 days ago
- 5 min read
Recap Chapter 6: Haunted by Neerav’s medical report, Isha drifts into memories of how their story began – from teasing him as the 'Scooty Pep guy' to an awkward kiss, truce over pastries, and their first date that changed everything.
Balcony Chronicles
Isha stood on the balcony of her fifth-floor apartment, staring across the narrow lane at a row of identical buildings. Over the past decade, Chimboli had traded its cosy houses for tall vertical boxes. Each flat had a balcony facing hers – close enough for her to watch life unfold across the road.
She grinned as one Auntiji spread out clothes on her railing while the Uncleji on the opposite balcony winked and flashed a wow gesture. Auntiji blushed and fled indoors, clutching her empty bucket.
And for those who hadn’t discovered curtains yet, Isha could peek right into their lives – the tutor yanking poor Ankur’s ear for another wrong equation, or Dadaji holding the newspaper upside down, pretending to read while snoring gently behind it.
It felt like living inside a giant dollhouse, every little drama on display.
Her phone buzzed. Neerav.
“Did you collect my report?” he asked.
“No, I forgot,” she lied.
“That’s fine. I’ll call Dr Rastogi. He’ll tell me.”
Isha swallowed. She felt like a coward, letting him walk into the lion’s den alone.
The Yesss
Akash was sprawled on the couch, half-asleep, half-glued to a Discovery Channel documentary.
Across the room, Isha and Neerav sat in a corner, whispering.
“Neer…” Isha hesitated, averting her gaze. “I... I'll want to marry you.”
Neerav sat up, stared at Isha, then broke into the widest grin possible. “Really?”
Isha smiled slightly and nodded.
“YES. Yes. Yeeesss!” he shouted, arms in the air.
“Keep it down, guys,” Akash grumbled. “Some of us are trying to watch something.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot – it’s the climax!” Neerav said dramatically. “One of those thousands of lazy sea lions is about to slide into the sea in ten minutes. Which one will it be? Suspense! High-voltage drama! Gripping stuff, man.”
A cushion hit him square in the face. He laughed and tossed it back. Then he leaned toward Isha’s ear. “Let’s go to the balcony.”
Out on the balcony, the evening breeze tangled Isha’s hair as Neerav pulled her into a tight embrace. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I love you."
Isha looked down, saying nothing.
“Let’s celebrate,” he murmured, giving her a roguish smile and looked at her lips suggestively.
“You know only one way of celebrating?”
“Can you think of a better way?” he teased, drawing her closer. He bent to kiss her –
“Romeo-Juliet kissing!” a voice echoed from somewhere.
A hundred windows and doors burst open at once. Faces popped up in every window and balcony, from adjoining flats and buildings, to the opposite buildings.
Neerav turned crimson. “I think we’re the Romeo and Juliet of this colony.”
“Actually,” Isha deadpanned, “I’m the Romeo. You’re Juliet.”
Neerav opened his mouth to protest, but the audience across the buildings was already giving them a standing ovation.
Pots, Pans & Daydreams
Meanwhile, Yamini was in the kitchen, scrubbing the now-infamous burnt pan. Her face looked tragic enough to deserve its own background score and she had a glazed faraway look in her eyes...
She was in a sprawling old bungalow, an inner courtyard, a tap in the corner, and a mountain of greasy vessels taller than her self-respect. The classic 'Babul ki duayen leti ja' played faintly, as she scrubbed the pots stoically, one by one, wiping sweat from her forehead with the pallu of her sari.
She stopped scrubbing suddenly and stared at her chipped nails in horror. Her nail polish was gone, dignity along with it. She burst into tears just as Isha walked in.
“What’s the matter?” Isha asked. “Did the dhobi tear your new dress?”
“My nails,” Yamini wailed. “They’re ruined!”
Isha chuckled. She filled the electric kettle with water and switched it on. As it hummed to life, she said casually, “Yammu, I said yes.”
Yamini froze mid-sob. “Because of his illness?”
Isha busied herself in putting sugar and teabags into a couple of cups.
"So you're gonna marry even though you don't want to?"
“Just wait and watch,” replied Isha, a strange gleam in her eyes.
Yamini had finished scrubbing. By now the pan was sparkling like a mirror. She looked at her reflection in it, pleased with her handiwork.
“So now that the pan’s clean,” Isha asked, “should we start ordering milk again?”
“No way,” Yamini declared, bolting out of the kitchen as if the pan might hear her.
Isha shook her head and smiled.
Mum, Dad & Marital Maths
That weekend Isha went to Pune, her hometown, to spend some time with her parents. She sat cross-legged on the floor, while Mrs Sharma gave her a traditional head massage, beaming from ear to ear. Mr Sharma, who was poring over some files and papers, looked up occasionally, pretending to listen.
“My Ishu’s going to be a bride,” her mother cooed. “I’m so excited.”
“What?” Isha turned around to look at her. “You have no problem with my marrying a Bengali? That’s outside the caste!”
“Who cares about these things these days? All we want is a decent boy who’ll keep our daughter happy. That's all.”
“But a Bong, Mum? They eat fish and what not.”
“So what, beta? I’ll never know the taste of fish, but at least my daughter will. Do you know how good fish is for your skin and hair?”
“You should have been Yammu’s mum,” Isha muttered.
She moved to sit beside her father. “Dad, you’ve always told me to be ambitious, have a career, follow my dreams…”
“Of course,” said Mr Sharma without looking up. “It’s important even for girls to have a career these days.”
“Then surely you’d want your son-in-law to be the same?”
“Naturally.”
“Then you’re not going to like Neer. He has no ambitions whatsoever. Can you imagine – for the last nine months he’s just been sitting at home and cooking!”
“Really?” he said, still flipping through his papers.
Mrs Sharma waved the comb. “Come, sit. I’ve a hundred-and-one things to do before the wedding.”
“Mum, dad. Are you guys even listening?”
Back she went to her mother, who resumed combing her hair.
“Mum, I’m warning you,” Isha said. “You’re not going to like him. He’s not your type.”
“You’re the one marrying him, Ishu. He should be your type, not mine.”
“He’s like a country bumpkin. Not at all smart. Plus, he’s short. And very average-looking.”
“You’re making me nervous now,” her mother said. “What kind of boy have you chosen?”
"Yeeesss," Isha hissed under her breath. Aloud, she said - “Not me. He’s the one after me to marry him.”
Mrs Sharma straightened. “Look, if I don’t like him, I’ll say no outright.”
“That’s fine, Mum,” Isha said sweetly. “You and Dad have done so much for me. I’m your only child. I’d never go against your wishes.”
Mrs Sharma hugged her tight. “Awww, such a wonderful daughter I have.”
Isha smiled, her eyes twinkling – part affection, part mischief.
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Yammu and her daydreams oh i soo so love it.
She scrubbing the pan 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
I dont get why is she trying to make a bad image of neer ...hm
Im excited for next chapter
Wow the pan is finally clean lol. Unfortunately I lack such patience , i threw my pan away 🤣 and in the last week i burnt another little bowl and threw that away as well 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Wow Isha is smart....she said yes and she's manipulating her parents to say no so she doesn't look likw a bad person for dumping a sick person.....feels like I'm watching an ep of Seinfeld lol
Atleast that's what I think is happening hehe
Waiting for the next chapter
Ho kahani mein twist
Isha says yes parents no issue and burnt pan is clean again.
Hmm wonder why Isha says yes