Page 107 of No Boss
No one complained.
Abhinav worked the main line. Lift. Scoop. Pass. No titles followed him here. No one stepped aside. He was just another pair of hands. The simplicity of it sat… differently.
The line moved. People spoke to the staff by name. Asked about families. Shared news in passing.
Then an elderly man reached his station. Tall. Back straight. Eyes clouded, yet sharp.
He held out his plate, then paused, looked closer and slowly folded his hands. “Thakur Sa! You came back.”
Abhinav’s hand stilled.
“Hukum is well?” the man asked. “Your son? I had been meaning to…”
He stopped, reading the answer in Abhinav’s face.
“Hukum,” he corrected, softer. “You stand as Thakur Sa now.”
“Yes.” Abhinav inclined his head. “My father passed away five months ago.”
The man absorbed it. “I am Ramesh. I worked in the Haveli for thirty years. When my wife was in the hospital, in labor with our son, I had nothing. The bill came. I had nothing.”
He drew a breath.
“Thakur Sa paid for it. Came himself. Sat in the corridor with me. When my son was born, he was the first to know.”
A pause settled.
“He told me every child born to a family of Anand Mahal belongs to Anand Mahal.”
The line slowed. No one pushed.
Ramesh glanced at the spoon in Abhinav’s hand, the food he served. He shook his head faintly. “Your father was a true Thakur. Not just in name.”
He looked up.
“And you are his son.”
His hands came together. He bowed. “The Haveli will flourish under you.”
He moved on. The line continued.
Abhinav remained still, holding the spoon, morning light touching his face. The weight inside him eased. Because qhen someone else carries a piece of your grief with you, it stops being only weight.
He exhaled and served the next plate.
Across the square, Meera had seen it. Not close enough to hear. Close enough to understand.
She watched him for a moment. The way he stood. The way he resumed after blinking his eyes. She turned back to her work. Her throat tightened.
He was still a son mourning his father.
???
The sun rose higher.
Meera did not slow.
A container tipped at the water station. She reached it before anyone else did.
