Chapter 15 A Gift That Meant More

The muh dikhai ceremony continued with warmth and quiet celebration, but something in the air had softened.

Mrs Qureshi walked toward Poornima with a small, neatly wrapped box in her hands. Her expression carried a calm affection, the kind that did not need to be spoken loudly.

“Beta,” she said gently, placing the gift in Poornima’s lap, “this is from me.”

Poornima looked at her, then slowly opened the box.

Inside was not jewelry.

Not something ornamental.

It was a set of documents.

Her college admission continuation papers, neatly arranged, along with a note confirming that everything had been taken care of. Fees, permissions, arrangements.

For a second, Poornima did not move.

Her eyes scanned the papers again, as if making sure she was seeing it right.

Her studies.

Not stopped.

Not taken away.

Continued.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she held them.

The emotions she had been holding back all day rose again, but this time they were different.

Without thinking, she stood up and hugged Mrs Qureshi tightly.

“Beta, don’t cry,” Mrs Qureshi said softly, gently holding her.

But Poornima could not stop.

These were not the tears of helplessness.

These were the tears of something being given back.

“I want you to pursue your studies,” Mrs Qureshi continued, her voice firm yet loving. “That is important.”

Poornima pulled back slightly, her eyes filled with gratitude.

“Thank you, maa,” she said, her voice breaking. “I love you, maa.”

The words came naturally.

Without hesitation.

She leaned forward and kissed Mrs Qureshi’s cheek.

Mrs Qureshi smiled, her eyes soft, her hand resting on Poornima’s head in blessing.

Around them, a few women smiled at the moment, whispering softly, appreciating the bond forming so quickly.

Poornima sat back down, still holding the papers carefully, as if they were something fragile and precious.

Then suddenly, her expression shifted slightly.

“I asked him to bring a gift, maa,” she said, looking at Mrs Qureshi. “I am curious what he will bring.”

There was a faint hint of mischief in her voice.

Something lighter.

Something new.

Mrs Qureshi chuckled softly.

“You are expecting a lot from him already, beta,” she said.

Poornima tilted her head slightly.

“I told him I will give him spicy tea if he doesn’t bring,” she added.

Mrs Qureshi laughed quietly at that, shaking her head.

“That boy…” she murmured. “He may not show much, but he listens more than he speaks.”

Poornima looked at her, thoughtful.

“Will he bring something?” she asked, a little more quietly this time.

Mrs Qureshi’s smile softened.

“He will,” she said with quiet confidence. “Maybe not the way you expect… but he will.”

Poornima lowered her gaze to the papers in her hands, her fingers tracing the edges slowly.

For the first time that day, a small, genuine smile touched her lips.

Not because everything was okay.

But because something…

Had been returned to her.