The rain had stopped by the time Milli reached home. The golden light of the setting sun seeped through the windows of the Sinha household, illuminating its artistic decor. In one corner of the living room, Mrinalini Sinha, a celebrated classical dancer, was finishing her routine. Her elegant movements, accompanied by the soft jingling of her ghungroos, filled the house with a serene energy.

As Milli opened the door, Mrinalini paused and looked up, her face lighting up. “Milli, you’re back! How was your first day at college?” she asked, untying her ghungroos and walking toward her daughter.

Milli dropped her bag on the couch and plopped down next to it. “It was… different, Maa. The campus is huge, the people are noisy, and oh, I met someone interesting—a guy named Kush.”

Mrinalini’s brows lifted in curiosity as she sat beside her daughter. “Interesting? Tell me more.”

Milli shrugged with a teasing smile. “He’s an artist, a bit grumpy, but I think there’s more to him than he lets on. We had some fun banter in the canteen.”

At that moment, Vinayak Sinha, Milli’s father, walked in, holding a book in one hand and adjusting his glasses with the other. “Who’s this Kush? Already making friends—or enemies—on your first day?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and affection.

Milli laughed. “Papa, it’s not like that! We just… bumped into each other. Quite literally, actually. But he’s different.”

Vinayak shook his head with a smile. “You and your knack for finding ‘different’ people. Just don’t scare him off on the first day.”

Mrinalini, ever the romantic, hummed softly, her voice carrying the tune of an old song:
“Pyaar hua ikraar hua hai, pyaar se phir kyun darta hai dil…”

Milli groaned, pulling a cushion over her head. “Maa, stop! It’s not like that!”

Vinayak chuckled, taking a seat across from them. “Your mother’s already planning wedding dances in her head, Milli. Be careful.”

The three of them burst into laughter, and just then, Mrinalini began humming an old melody, “Bade achhe lagte hain, yeh dharti, yeh nadiya, yeh raina aur tum…”

The three of them laughed, the warmth of their bond filling the room.

---

Meanwhile, across town, in a sleek and modern apartment, Kushagra Sehgal entered his home. The quietness of the place was a stark contrast to the chaos of the day. His mother, Gayatri Sehgal, was sitting at the dining table, sifting through files. A single mother and a successful businesswoman, Gayatri had built her life around her two sons, Kush and his elder brother, Abhimanyu.

“Kush, you’re home,” she said, looking up from her papers. “How was your first day at college?”

Kush dropped his bag near the door and sat across from her. “It was fine. Crowded, loud, and overwhelming, as expected.”

Abhimanyu, who was leaning against the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee, smirked. “Crowded and loud? Sounds like the perfect place for someone as antisocial as you.”

Kush shot him a look. “Not everyone thrives on attention like you, Bhai.”

Gayatri chuckled, watching her sons. “Did you make any friends, Kush?”

Kush hesitated for a moment before replying, “Maybe. There’s this girl, Milli. She’s… interesting.”

Abhimanyu raised an eyebrow. “Interesting? That’s a first. What’s she like?”

Kush shrugged. “She’s talkative. And loud. But she’s not boring, I’ll give her that.”

Gayatri smiled knowingly. “Sounds like she made quite the impression. Sometimes, people like that come into our lives to teach us something new.”

Kush rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe.”

Abhimanyu started humming teasingly, “Tip tip barsa paani, paani ne aag lagayi…”

Kush groaned. “Please stop it Bhai.”

Gayatri joined in with a laugh. “Don’t tease him too much, Abhi. Let him enjoy college his own way.”

As the evening settled in, both families, though different in their ways, were bound by the love and humor that filled their homes. Little did they know how much their worlds were about to intertwine.