After the photo moment settled, Harsha turned his attention to the dining table.
Instead of people, he now clicked pictures of the dishes neatly arranged — the biryani, curries, sweets, everything glowing under the warm lights.
"Content first," he joked.
Then he walked toward the room where Manu was fully focused on a game on the laptop.
Harsha gently closed the laptop screen halfway.
"Enough. It's eating time. Go wash your hands."
Manu didn't move.
Harsha lightly tapped him on the back. "Move, hero."
Manu immediately stood up, pretending to be angry.
"Why are you hitting? You could just talk with your mouth!"
Harsha crossed his arms dramatically. "Oh really? Let's see who wins, huh? Too much talking, Bacchu."
"Come! I will talk with you by hand!" Manu said, half serious, half laughing as he ran toward the wash basin.
From the hall, the elder uncle heard the noise.
"What's happening in that room?" he asked firmly.
Before Manu could answer, Bani quickly said,
"Nothing, Appa!"
She knew if elders came in, they'd stop the fun completely.
But Manu, feeling betrayed that she "covered" for Harsha, made a face and lightly pushed Bani's shoulder.
"Why are you talking for me?"
Bani pushed him back just as lightly.
"Oh, now you're brave?"
"Come, I'll complain to Uncle and Appa!" Manu warned dramatically.
"Go! I'll also complain!" Bani shot back.
Just then, their elder cousin Vani stepped in, wrapping her arms around Manu from behind.
"Manu, let's ignore them. They are both mad," she said softly.
Manu tried to act serious but couldn't stop smiling.
From the hall, all the elders were quietly observing.
Not interfering.
Just watching.
Because this chaos… this noise… this small fighting…
Was love.
And maybe they all knew —
Moments like these would soon become memories once Bani's family left for Dubai.
The house was loud tonight.
But tomorrow, it would feel a little quieter.
The house was buzzing one last time. Bani's elder uncle, younger uncle, and their families had all come over to see them off. Luggage was stacked neatly in the living room, and the atmosphere was heavy with both excitement and sadness.
Bani's father called the elder uncle aside. He handed him the keys carefully.
"Here," he said, his voice steady. "Some little things are left in the house. You see to them as you fit. Within two days, hand over the keys to the owner."
He paused, recalling the earlier inspection. "This morning he came by. He saw the house condition — one lock is broken, a tile is damaged. I told him it will be compensated while settling the accounts.
With in two days emty the house and hand over the keys. That's all."
It was practical, matter-of-fact. But in his heart, he felt the weight of leaving — leaving the home that had held so many memories.
The airport was crowded, but the world felt quiet around them. Bani held her grandmother's hand tightly, not ready to let go. Her father carried her little brother's backpack while her mother checked their tickets one last time.
Bani looked down at the small hand-holding chain of her family — grandmother, parents, brother
Around her, her family shared small smiles, holding each other a little tighter.
It was early morning at the airport. The crowd buzzed around them, suitcases rolled and announcements echoed, but Bani's father's focus was entirely on his mother.
She had seldom left the village before — and today, she was stepping into a world she had never imagined. The city, the airport, the flight — it was all overwhelming.
Bani's father held her hand firmly as they walked toward the check-in counter.
"Mother, take it slow. We have plenty of time," he said gently.
She clutched his hand tighter, her eyes wide as she looked around. "So many people… so many lights…"
"I know, I know," he smiled. "But we're together. Nothing will happen."
At security, he guided her patiently, explaining each step — the scanner, removing small items, showing the boarding pass. Every little procedure was new to her, and he made sure she felt comfortable.
When it was time to board, he bent slightly to meet her eyes.
"Ajji… this is your first flight, right? You'll see… it's like a moving house in the sky."
She laughed nervously. Said manu "A moving… house?"
"Yes," he said softly, "and we're all inside it together. Don't worry." ajji
He helped her settle into the seat by the window, adjusting her seatbelt, tucking the blanket lightly over her. Every little movement showed care, patience, and love.
Even as the plane roared down the runway and lifted into the sky, she held his hand the entire time. Her wide eyes scanned the city shrinking below.
"Look, Ajji," he whispered. "Everything familiar is behind us. But look at how beautiful it all is from here."
She nodded, awe written on her face. And somewhere between the clouds, she realized that even in this vast, new world, her son's care was a home she could always return to.
Bani watched quietly from her own seat. Her father's patience, her brother's gentle guidance, and his steady presence filled her heart. She felt a little braver too — ready for whatever lay ahead.
When Bani and her family stepped out of the into Dubai, the air itself felt different.
Inside the airport, everything gleamed — glass walls, shining floors, endless escalators, digital signboards flashing in multiple languages. People from all over the world walked past them — speaking Arabic, English, Hindi, Tagalog, languages Bani couldn't even identify.
For Bani, it was exciting.
For her grandmother… it was overwhelming.
This was the first time she had ever stepped outside India.
She had rarely left her village. Even when she stayed with her son in Bengaluru, she had remained the same — same habits, same routines, same simple cotton sarees, same early-morning prayers. No one had tried to change her. And she had never tried to change herself.
But here…
Everything was tall.
Everything was fast.
Everything was unfamiliar.
When they stepped outside the airport and took a taxi, grandmother quietly stared out of the window.
Skyscrapers pierced the sky.
Flyovers curved like ribbons in the air.
Massive glass buildings reflected the afternoon sun so brightly that she had to narrow her eyes.
She slowly asked, almost to herself,
"Are we still on earth?"
Bani smiled softly.
Her father noticed the nervousness in his mother's face.