16-06-2025, 01:00 AM
Saturday Evening – Dinner at Flat 202
The corridor was quiet as Abhi stepped out of his flat at 7:55 p.m., holding a small dessert box in his hand. The light outside Flat 202 glowed softly, casting golden pools onto the tiled floor.
He knocked lightly.
A moment later, Madhavi opened the door—dressed in a tasteful, sky-blue kurti with light silver thread work near the collar.
Her hair was loosely tied back, with a few strands falling along her cheek.
Simple, elegant, completely in character.
“There you are,” she said, smiling. “And with sweets! I was hoping you'd remember.”
“I take dinner invitations seriously,” he replied.
She laughed gently and stepped aside. “Come in. Sandeep’s just wrapping up a call.”
The apartment was warmly lit, clean but lived-in.
The dining table was neatly set—plates stacked, bowls covered with lids, two glasses of water already poured.
The aroma of fresh coriander and simmering dal lingered in the air.
Abhi handed over the box. “The world’s best mango kulfi, as promised”
“You chose well,” she said. “kulfi is my favorite.”
Abhi was reading the inner meaning, when she said “You chose well,”
Just then, Sandeep walked out of the study, still putting away his phone.
“Abhi! Glad you could come. Hope we didn’t pull you away from anything.”
“Not at all,” Abhi said, standing up. “Looking forward to this.”
They sat down around the table, and Madhavi began serving.
As she ladled out the sambar and rice, her movements were calm and efficient.
There was no awkwardness—just a quiet hospitality in her rhythm.
The kind you develop over time.
“So how’s your weekend going?” Sandeep asked, scooping curry onto his plate.
“Quiet,” Abhi replied. “Caught up on some reading. Bit of work too. But mostly just lazy.”
“That’s the best kind,” Madhavi added, passing him a bowl of aloo fry. “Lazy weekends are underrated.”
Abhi smiled. “If they also come with dinner invitations, even better.”
They all laughed. The conversation drifted to their apartment’s water pressure issues, then to a neighbor who kept playing loud music at odd hours.
As the plates slowly emptied, Sandeep leaned back in his chair. “You drive, Abhi?”
The corridor was quiet as Abhi stepped out of his flat at 7:55 p.m., holding a small dessert box in his hand. The light outside Flat 202 glowed softly, casting golden pools onto the tiled floor.
He knocked lightly.
A moment later, Madhavi opened the door—dressed in a tasteful, sky-blue kurti with light silver thread work near the collar.
Her hair was loosely tied back, with a few strands falling along her cheek.
Simple, elegant, completely in character.
“There you are,” she said, smiling. “And with sweets! I was hoping you'd remember.”
“I take dinner invitations seriously,” he replied.
She laughed gently and stepped aside. “Come in. Sandeep’s just wrapping up a call.”
The apartment was warmly lit, clean but lived-in.
The dining table was neatly set—plates stacked, bowls covered with lids, two glasses of water already poured.
The aroma of fresh coriander and simmering dal lingered in the air.
Abhi handed over the box. “The world’s best mango kulfi, as promised”
“You chose well,” she said. “kulfi is my favorite.”
Abhi was reading the inner meaning, when she said “You chose well,”
Just then, Sandeep walked out of the study, still putting away his phone.
“Abhi! Glad you could come. Hope we didn’t pull you away from anything.”
“Not at all,” Abhi said, standing up. “Looking forward to this.”
They sat down around the table, and Madhavi began serving.
As she ladled out the sambar and rice, her movements were calm and efficient.
There was no awkwardness—just a quiet hospitality in her rhythm.
The kind you develop over time.
“So how’s your weekend going?” Sandeep asked, scooping curry onto his plate.
“Quiet,” Abhi replied. “Caught up on some reading. Bit of work too. But mostly just lazy.”
“That’s the best kind,” Madhavi added, passing him a bowl of aloo fry. “Lazy weekends are underrated.”
Abhi smiled. “If they also come with dinner invitations, even better.”
They all laughed. The conversation drifted to their apartment’s water pressure issues, then to a neighbor who kept playing loud music at odd hours.
As the plates slowly emptied, Sandeep leaned back in his chair. “You drive, Abhi?”
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