Chapter 3: WhatsApp Wars and Night Dramas

“No way!”

My daughter’s shriek and the WhatsApp forwards exploded together.

“Papa, just give me the money today. What if I don’t want to study in a few days?” Her urgency was almost comical.

The WhatsApp forwards buzzed:

[In her last life, the dad forced her to study. Is he just stingy now? Is this really her real dad?]

She kept glancing at her phone, fingers trembling, maybe waiting for her group chat’s advice. The room felt thick with tension, like a live episode of Kumkum Bhagya.

I let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, if I give you the money and you change your mind, na, my money goes to waste. Why don’t you take a walk, clear your head, think it over?”

She stared, shocked. “You’re letting me go out?”

Lately, because she wanted to run off to Pune with that spiky-haired Raj, I’d kept her locked in. That’s why things got so sour between us.

Every day, if she saw me, she’d curse—words sharper than a green chili, wishing me a miserable death. The daughter I’d raised, every word was poison.

She’d even threatened to scatter my ashes at the bus stand as revenge. I used to think it was childish. Now, with Ananya’s character, I wasn’t so sure.

Since she’d hurt her father for love—maybe it was better not to have such a daughter.

Once she confirmed she could go, Ananya’s face lit up. She dashed to her room, grabbed all her saved pocket and Diwali money, and vanished down the lane.

[Oh my God, the heroine is off to save her love!]

[Wuwuwu, crying for sweet love again. 😭]

I watched her disappear, picked up my scooter keys, and left too. The stray dogs barked, the halwai packed up his jalebis, and the monsoon air was thick with mud and auto rickshaw horns.

It wasn’t until after three in the morning that Ananya sneaked back home.

Normally, I’d have been asleep, but tonight my mind was racing. The ceiling fan creaked overhead, and the distant sound of a pressure cooker whistle from the neighbour’s kitchen broke the silence.

The bedroom door opened, and she tiptoed in, pausing at my wardrobe and rummaging around.

“What are you looking for?”

I’d planned to pretend to sleep, but her rustling irritated me. Finally, I snapped.

“Ah!” Ananya jumped, caught. “I—I was just looking for my old textbooks. To review before repeating a year.”

I frowned. “Didn’t you sell those to the raddiwala? I remember you swearing off studies, wanting to run to Pune with Raj. When are you leaving?”

She stared, stunned. “You’re not stopping us?”

I shook my head. “You’ll be an adult soon. I can’t interfere.”

“So you’re not against me and Raj?”

“Of course not. How can I stop true love?”

Instantly, the WhatsApp forwards above her head went wild:

[What’s this? The villain is suddenly supporting the main couple?]

[No way—he’s just pretending, surely!]

Her face twisted with suspicion, eyes darting to her phone as if searching for clues or backup from her group chat.