The early morning sunlight spilled into the small office adjoining Aditya Khanna’s second-floor workspace. Stacks of business files sat neatly on one side, while a heap of IAS preparatory books covered the other. Aditya balanced both worlds with the same calm precision he applied to life: entrepreneurial hustle by day, civil services ambition by night.
Through the glass window, he could see Meera’s boutique down the street. She was already at work, orchestrating the morning chaos like a conductor commanding a symphony. A proud smile tugged at his lips. *She’s unstoppable,* he thought.
Aditya turned back to his own empire — a small but growing export business specializing in handmade Lucknawi textiles. Orders needed approval, suppliers needed reminders, but it all paled in comparison to the satisfaction of seeing Meera thrive.
A soft knock came at the door. It was his assistant, holding a stack of papers. “Sir, the shipment for the new collection is ready. Also, your mock test results…”
Aditya waved her off with a chuckle. “Results will wait. Business won’t.”
He rose, grabbing a cup of chai from the corner of the desk, and stepped out onto the terrace connecting to Meera’s boutique. From here, he could see her moving with her usual commanding presence, giving instructions, smiling at customers, and laughing with employees.
“Bhaiya!” Meera called, spotting him. She waved dramatically, holding a cup of chai like a trophy. “Aaj tum business mein busy ho ya IAS mein?”
Aditya grinned, sipping his chai. “Don’t underestimate me. I manage to do both. But I have to admit, seeing you in your element is far more enjoyable than any mock test.”
Meera raised an eyebrow, walking up the steps to meet him. “Oh really? You find your sister bossing people around more enjoyable than your own empire?”
“Of course,” he said, shrugging. “You have fire, wit, and charm — all in one. My boutique might sell fabric, but your boutique sells inspiration.”
She laughed, the sound ringing across the courtyard. “Flattery won’t get you extra chai, you know.”
He leaned casually against the railing, eyes softening. “I know. But you deserve it anyway. You always have.”
There was a pause, an unspoken understanding between them. Aditya had always admired Meera — her courage, her independence, her unwillingness to bow to expectations. But he didn’t smother her; he stood beside her, a silent pillar of support, proud yet careful to let her own strength shine.
Meera tilted her chin, studying him. “Bhaiya, do you ever think about slowing down?”
Aditya shook his head firmly. “Never. Why would I? Life’s meant to be lived fully. And seeing you chase your dreams… well, it reminds me why I chase mine.”
She smirked. “Wise words from the youngest yet the eldest son of the Khannas. Business owner, IAS aspirant, and philosopher — impressive resume.”
Aditya chuckled, looking out at the street below. “It’s not about impressing anyone. It’s about doing the right thing. And if that means supporting my sister, keeping her safe while she takes the world by storm… then that’s my duty.”
Meera’s smile softened, and for a brief moment, the bustle of Lucknow outside and the flurry inside her boutique faded. Here, on the terrace with her brother, she felt untouchable. Loved. Seen.
“Alright, philosopher-brother,” she said, straightening her scarf. “Enough talk. Orders need checking, staff need directing, and customers are impatient. Let’s show them how the Khanna siblings run the city.”
Aditya laughed, following her lead. Together, they descended the steps — two forces, different yet aligned, ready to face whatever the day held.
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