Dev's P.O.V.

I sit at the dining table with my mom and dad, and the events of the day play like a vivid movie in my mind. My cheeks can't help but break into a contented smile as I remember the adventure I shared with Raj. It's the first time I've ever bunked school, and the amusement park feels like an oasis of excitement.

The truth is, I can't believe what I've done. I, Dev, the rule-follower, the one who always has his nose in his books, dare to skip school for a day of reckless abandon. But it's all thanks to Raj and his audacious idea. When he suggests it, I shoot him an exaggerated nod, hoping my heart can keep up with his wild plans. And here we are, waiting for dinner, the memory still fresh in my mind.

I can't help but chuckle softly to myself. Raj, the school's prefect, the embodiment of discipline and order, has a chaotic side I never knew existed. It's as if he's unleashed a hidden facet of his personality, and I'm the lucky one to witness it. The thought makes me appreciate him even more.

"Dev, something's amusing you," my mom says, breaking me from my reverie. Her warm, caring eyes are fixed on me.

I blink, realizing that I must have been lost in thought. "Oh, it's just...something funny that happened today," I reply, keeping the details vague. I don't want to worry them by admitting I skipped school.

Dad, who has been engrossed in his newspaper, looks up with a raised eyebrow. "Funny, you say? Do tell, Dev."

I hesitate for a moment, glancing at Mom, who gives me an encouraging smile. "Well, you see, there was this unexpected event at school today, and it led to...a change in plans."

I choose my words carefully, not wanting to reveal the full truth. Dad leans forward, his curiosity piqued. "An unexpected event? What happened?"

I can feel the weight of their expectations, and it makes me chuckle even more. "Let's just say, it was a day unlike any other. I promise, I'll tell you all about it later. Right now, I'm just grateful for the experience."

My mom's eyes soften, and she reaches out to gently pat my hand. "Okay..."

As we sit at the dining table, enjoying our meal, there's a moment of comfortable silence. It's broken by the sound of my dad clearing his throat, and all of us turn our attention to him. He pretends to reach for the rice bowl, avoiding eye contact with an unusual hint of nervousness.

"So," he begins, "it's Sunday tomorrow, right? You don't have school, do you?" His question is directed at me.

I nod, a bit surprised by the sudden interest in my schedule. "Yeah, it's a Sunday, Dad. No school."

He continues, his voice slightly hesitant, "And do you have any other plans for tomorrow?" His gaze finally meets mine.

I shake my head, pondering what I might do on a free Sunday. Maybe I'll laze around the entire day or call Raj to hang out together. Most likely, we'll waste our time watching something utterly ridiculous online, like how to build a rocket using kitchen ingredients.

After a prolonged silence, my dad speaks again, his tone more deliberate. "I was thinking...I mean, a few of my employees were talking about this movie that released this week. They say it's good, so... if you're up for it, maybe we can go and watch it."

A subtle exchange of glances between my mom and me doesn't go unnoticed by my dad. I hesitate, then finally voice my concern, "Dad, don't you usually go to Delhi for your first physical jewelry store on Sundays?"

He nods, as if it's no big deal. "True, but there's not much left for me to do there for a few weeks. The designs are ready, and most of the work is already done. The location has been decided, and the renovation is underway."

It's unusual for my dad to suggest a family outing, but it seems like he genuinely wants to spend time together. The idea of going to a movie with my parents is unexpected but oddly appealing.

I shoot a quick glance at my mom, her surprise reflecting my own. We exchange a wordless inquiry through our eyes: "What's happening here?" Her response is a casual shrug, suggesting that even she's unsure of the sudden change.

Turning my gaze back to my dad, I can't help but notice the eager gleam in his eyes. It's as if he genuinely looks forward to this idea. I can't help but break into a grin, my excitement bubbling up. "Alright," I reply.

It's more than just agreeing to watch a movie; it's about embracing this unexpected twist in our routine. From him dropping me off at school to teaching me how to ride a bike, and now planning a movie day on a Sunday...

As my dad casually nods, a radiant smile spreads across my face. It's more than just a movie plan; it's a symbol of his effort to bridge the gap between us, to understand what it's like to have a dad who cares.

In that moment, I can't contain my excitement. It feels like we're slowly crafting something unique, and it fills me with an overwhelming sense of happiness and optimism that has been absent for far too long. My heart practically dances with joy at this opportunity to connect with my dad, to spend quality time together, and for the genuine effort he's making to be a meaningful part of my life.

As we drive to the movie theater, I can't help but feel a rush of excitement. This is a first for me - going to the movies with my dad. The thought alone makes me grin from ear to ear.

I spent the previous night scrolling through movie listings, trying to figure out what's playing. There's a horror movie that I immediately dismiss - not my cup of tea, to say the least. Then there's an action film, not exactly my favorite genre, but the reviews suggest it's watchable, so I figure I can settle for that.

Just as I'm lost in thought, my mom's voice comes from the passenger seat, her eyes still focused on the road. "You know, Dev," she begins, "your dad and I, back in college, we once went on a movie date."

I turn to her, intrigued. "Really? Tell me about it, Mom."

She chuckles, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, it's our first date, and we're both so nervous. Your dad, trying to impress me, has dressed up in this fancy suit that he's borrowed from his roommate. He looks like he's going for a business meeting instead of a movie."

I can't help but laugh at the mental image of my dad in a formal suit at a movie theater. "That must have been quite a sight."

"Oh, it was," Mom continues, her smile widening. "And then, during the movie, he accidentally spills his popcorn all over the person sitting in front of us. It's a comedy of errors, to say the least."

My dad, who's been listening quietly, can't resist joining the conversation. He chuckles from the driver's seat and says, "Well, your mom forgets to mention the part where she accidentally knocks over her drink, and it spills all over my borrowed suit. So, it's a popcorn and soda disaster!"

I burst into laughter, imagining my dad's awkward attempts at impressing my mom. "What happens next?"

Mom shrugs playfully. "Well, after the movie, we have a good laugh about it, and that's when I realize he's more than just a guy in a suit. He's someone I can have fun with, I can give a chance."

I smile, feeling a warmth in my heart. It's a sweet and funny story about my parents' early days together.

Dad, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, can't resist the opportunity. He grins and says, "You know, your mom might have forgotten to mention the time she tried to impress me by singing karaoke at a friend's party. Let's just say she's an amazing cook, but her singing skills... well, they're a work in progress."

Mom playfully swats at him from the front seat. "Oh, come on! You're exaggerating!"

Dad chuckles, clearly enjoying the chance to tease her. "Dev, you have no idea. She picks the most challenging song and gives it her all. The result? Well, let's just say the dogs in the neighborhood start howling in harmony."

I can't help but burst into laughter at the mental image of my mom attempting a karaoke performance gone hilariously wrong.

As I sit in the back seat, listening to my parents' playful banter and witnessing their genuine laughter, a warmth spreads through my heart. It's a stark contrast to the distant and often tense atmosphere at home, where they would argue because of me. In these moments, it feels like we're a real family, sharing stories, laughing together, and creating new memories.

I can't help but smile, realizing that maybe, just maybe, things are changing for the better. I feel a glimmer of hope that and build a brighter future perhaps our family can overcome the past, bringing us closer as a family, about healing old wounds and forging a new, happier path together.

The car glides smoothly into the bustling mall parking lot, and the moment we step out, we're greeted by the warm embrace of a Sunday morning sun. Its golden rays paint the pavement, casting long, playful shadows from cars and shoppers making their way towards the mall's entrance.

As we approach the entrance, the scene unfolds in a vibrant tapestry of life. Families, friends, and couples relish the weekend together. A gentle breeze dances through the trees lining the pathway, carrying the alluring scent of freshly brewed coffee and the temptation of bakery delights from a nearby cafe.

Laughter and animated conversations create a symphony that accompanies our stroll. Kids, filled with boundless energy, dart about the outdoor play area, their laughter a testament to youthful enthusiasm.

Close to the entrance, a street performer strums a guitar, infusing the air with melodies that charm passersby. Shoppers, bearing bags and smiles, weave through the crowd, their animated faces a testament to the thrill of weekend shopping.

The mall's glass doors, wide open, beckon us into a world of shopping and leisure. It's a Sunday morning alive with possibilities, vibrant and promising.

My mom nudges me gently, directing my attention to the nearby guitarist. A weathered sign reads "Free Singing," and a girl with an enchanting voice captivates the small gathering around her. Her friends cheer her on, their enthusiasm contagious.

With a glint of excitement, my mom turns to me and suggests, "Dev, why don't you give it a try? It could be a lot of fun!"

A surge of longing and apprehension washes over me. I steal a glance at the girl pouring her heart into her song and her supportive friends. The urge to join their impromptu performance, to share my own melody with this spontaneous audience, is undeniable. But the memory of my dad's disapproving glances when it comes to music lingers in my mind.

Just as I'm about to decline, a reassuring hand lands gently on my shoulder. It's my dad, wearing a rare, soft smile that I haven't seen in ages. "The movie starts at 12," he says, gesturing toward the guitarist. "Go ahead, Dev. Sing if it's what you want to do."

It catches me off guard, but in that moment, my heart swells with warmth, and a tear of happiness glistens in my eye. It's an unexpected and touching gesture of understanding and acceptance from my dad. Encouraged, I step closer to the guitarist. The sign now reads "Open Mic," and the girl welcomes me with a friendly nod. I take the guitar and move toward the microphone, ready to share my voice with the world.

My heart pounds louder in my chest as I step toward the microphone, clutching the guitar with trembling hands. I close my eyes, the memories of a dark time flooding back. The pain, the monotony of life, and the overwhelming despair that once consumed me all come rushing back.

With an intense breath, I start to play the guitar, fingers finding their way on the strings as if by instinct. The melody emerges, raw and full of emotion, a song I had penned during my darkest days. The lyrics are born from pain, from the depths of my soul when every day felt like a heavy burden to bear.

🎶 "In the shadows, I once did dwell, In a world that seemed like a never-ending hell. But I found a glimmer, a spark so small, A chance to rise, to break these walls." 🎶

As I sing with intensity, my voice trembling with emotion, I lose myself in the music. Each word, each note, is a release of the pain that once held me captive. The world around me fades, and it's just me and the song.

I open my eyes, the last chords of the song fading away, and I'm met with a sight I never expected. The crowd has gathered around me, their faces filled with tears, it's a moment frozen in time, the silence stretching for what feels like an eternity before erupting into thunderous applause, their applause reverberates in my ears.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I take in the scene before me. People, strangers, are moved by the raw emotions that poured out through my song. It's a feeling I've never experienced before, to touch the hearts of others with my music.

Amidst the applause, I see my dad, his face filled with astonishment and pride as he claps enthusiastically. It's a look I haven't seen from him in so long, and it warms my heart. And then there's my mom, her eyes shimmering with tears, her smile radiant as she claps her hands together. It's a proud smile, a smile that tells me she's proud.

Emotion overwhelms me, and my own tears join the chorus. It's a mix of joy, relief, and a sense of connection that I've been craving for so long. In this moment, surrounded by strangers, I feel like I've found a piece of myself that I had lost. And it's beautiful. I close my eyes for a brief moment, letting the emotions wash over me. I never expected this when I stepped up to that microphone, but I'm grateful for every second of it.

As we step inside the bustling mall, I'm greeted by a world of commerce and consumerism, a place where countless desires are displayed in colorful storefronts. The mall's interior is a blend of modernity and extravagance, with high ceilings adorned with elegant chandeliers, creating a sense of grandeur.

The main atrium opens up before us, revealing a vast space filled with shops, kiosks, and boutiques. The air carries a faint scent of various cuisines from the food court, mingling with the fragrance of perfumes wafting from a nearby department store.

The sound of laughter and chatter permeates the atmosphere as shoppers of all ages explore the latest fashion trends, electronic gadgets, and culinary delights. It's a world in constant motion, a vibrant microcosm of life's diversities.

Before I can take in the entirety of the mall's spectacle, my dad's voice pulls me back to reality. "We still have more than half an hour before the movie," he observes.

Without missing a beat, my mom suggests with a mischievous grin, "Let's go do some shopping!"

Dad chuckles and shakes his head, as if he should have seen that coming. "I should have known you'd suggest that."

Mom rolls her eyes playfully and counters, "I'm saying that because of Dev. It's been so long since he bought clothes."

Dad seizes the opportunity to tease her, his tone laced with humor. "You mean good clothes."

Mom's jaw drops in mock disbelief, and she retorts, "You're saying my choices are bad?"

Dad smirks mischievously, not missing a beat. "You still have doubts."

Mom gives him a knowing look and sizes him up from head to toe, a triumphant smile on her face. "Not anymore."

Dad laughs, conceding defeat. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let the men do some shopping."

He wraps his arm around my shoulder, and together, we follow him towards the escalator. As we ascend to the upper levels of the mall, I can't help but smile at the playful banter between my parents. It's a reminder that despite their differences and past conflicts, there's still love and humor between them, and today, it feels we feel like a family, actual family.

We navigate through the men's clothing section, the racks of shirts and jeans stretching out before us like a colorful maze. This father-son outing is already feeling special, and I can't help but feel a sense of anticipation.

Dad's eyes scan the array of t-shirts, and with all the seriousness of a seasoned fashion critic, he plucks a bright neon-colored shirt from the rack. He holds it up to me, his face wearing an expression of profound contemplation. "How about this one, Dev?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and seriousness.

Before I can even muster a response, he inspects the shirt further, his brow furrowing in deep thought. "No, no, definitely not this one," he declares decisively, returning the neon monstrosity to its hanger with a flourish.

My laughter bursts forth at his theatrics, and it's a hearty, genuine laugh that fills the air around us. I can't help but admire his dedication to the task of picking out clothes for me.

Dad proceeds to repeat this process with a few more shirts, each time rejecting them with an exaggerated seriousness that borders on comical. It's like a fashion show with him as the stern judge and me as the amused contestant.

Finally, he holds up a simple, classic white t-shirt, and his expression turns contemplative once more. He scrutinizes it with all the gravity of a fashion connoisseur. "Ah, this one looks good," he declares, his voice filled with mock seriousness.

I nod in agreement, playing along with his charade. "Yes, Dad, that one's perfect."

Happiness blooms within me like a radiant sun, and the smile on my face refuses to fade. This day is an unexpected gift, one I never thought would come, where my dad and I are bonding over shopping, and it fills me with a profound sense of contentment.

As I glance over, I catch my mom observing us from a distance, her eyes twinkling with a smile. It's a look of pure joy, seeing my dad and me behave like an actual father and son. Her silent approval and happiness only add to the warmth that fills my heart.

With a handful of t-shirts selected, my dad finally turns his attention to the next task. He gestures toward the jeans and pants section and asks, "What about pants, jeans, whatever you like?"

I browse through the assortment of pants and pick out a few pairs that catch my eye. As we continue looking for pants, my dad takes a moment to offer me a few tips on clothing and fashion sense, what colour goes with what, what kind of pants will look good with the t shirts we just bought. It's an unexpected but valuable bonus to our day together.

He holds up a pair of jeans and scrutinizes them before nodding with approval. "You know, Dev, back in my college days, I was quite the fashion guru," he starts, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Fashion guru, Dad?"

He chuckles and nods, adopting a serious tone as if sharing a closely guarded secret. "Oh, absolutely. My friends used to come to me for fashion advice. They couldn't make a single wardrobe decision without consulting me first."

I can't help but laugh at the mental image of my dad as a college fashion icon, and I shake my head in playful disbelief. "Really, Dad? You were the go-to fashion expert?"

He nods again, his expression mockingly solemn. "Indeed. I was known for my impeccable taste in... well, everything, really."

"Dad, how about these ones?" I ask sarcastically, holding up a pair of bright red pants that seem to scream 'unique' from a mile away.

He chuckles and shakes his head, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Ah, red pants! Reminds me of the crazy days back in college. Let me tell you a funny story, kid."

I can't resist the urge to listen, knowing well that any tale from Dad's college days is sure to be filled with unexpected twists and hilarious moments.

"So, there I was, a college freshman, young and full of energy," Dad begins. "Back in those days, bell-bottom pants were all the rage. Everyone wanted to have a pair, and we believed it made us look like rock stars. I was no exception, of course; I desperately wanted to be in with the trend."

He pauses, a nostalgic smile spreading across his face, before continuing. "But here's the thing, son. I wasn't the most coordinated person in the world, and wearing bell-bottom pants proved to be quite the adventure for me. One sunny day, I decided to flaunt my new pair while riding my bike to college. Picture this: me, cruising down the street, feeling like a superstar in my bell-bottom glory."

I can't help but laugh, envisioning Dad pedaling down the street, his pants billowing around him like sails.

"And then, disaster struck!" Dad exclaims, now grinning widely. "As I turned a sharp corner, my bell-bottoms got tangled up in the bike chain! The next thing I knew, I was sent flying, pants and all, crashing into a shrubbery!"

My laughter intensifies, picturing Dad tangled in a bush, his pants acting as a makeshift parachute.

"People passing by couldn't help but burst into laughter, watching me trying to disentangle myself from the bike chain and the shrubbery," Dad chuckles, shaking his head at the memory. "I may not have become the rock star I aspired to be, but I certainly became the talk of the campus for a while!"

I wipe away tears of laughter, grateful for the humorous anecdote that has lightened the mood and made the shopping trip all the more enjoyable. Dad's ability to turn an embarrassing moment into a hilarious tale never fails to brighten my day.

As we finally settle on a more sensible pair of pants, I can't help but feel a newfound appreciation for the simple joy of a shopping trip with Dad. No matter what we're doing, his stories and laughter always make any experience unforgettable.

I observe as two young men enter the store, their presence immediately drawing my attention. They exude a warm, affectionate vibe, the kind that makes you believe in love's beauty. They browse through the T-shirts, sharing laughter, and occasionally exchanging playful kisses.

My smile widens as I witness their love, a genuine happiness welling up inside me. It's a sweet moment, a reminder that love can be simple and beautiful, regardless of who it's between.

But then, my smile fades abruptly as my dad leans in, whispering disapprovingly in my ear. His words are like a sudden slap of cold reality. "Shameless," he scoffs.