She had wanted to be just like him.

And now, she had failed.

“Nandu!” A deep voice, rich and full of warmth, pulled her from her thoughts.

Her heart squeezed as she turned to see her grandfather, Keshav Raichand, standing on the porch, a broad smile lighting up his face. At seventy-five, he was still a force to be reckoned with. His white kurta-pyjama was crisp, his silver hair neatly combed back, and his eyes—sharp, wise, yet mischievous. They held the same spark she remembered ever since she was a child. He had the aura of a man who had seen life in all its shades but refused to bow down to age.

He wasn’t the kind of old man who needed help walking; he was the kind who still played chess with his neighbouring friends here, and won. Who could still walk thousands of steps every day to keep himself fit. Who believed in living, not just existing.

“Daadu!” A lump formed in her throat as she rushed towards him.

He engulfed her in a bear hug, squeezing her just tight enough to remind her that no matter what, she had a place here in his heart and his home.

Nandini closed her eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of sandalwood and home.

“You’re finally here,” he murmured, patting her back before she bent down to touch his feet.

He blessed her with a warm smile, his eyes scanning her face as if trying to read everything she wasn’t saying out loud. Then, in his usual boisterous manner, he turned towards the house and shouted, “Lakshmi! Make tea for us. Nandini is back home!”

Lakshmi Aunty had been his caretaker and cook for years. At 75, he definitely needed someone to look after him, even if he’dnever admit it aloud. And Lakshmi, a woman in her fifties with a no-nonsense attitude, had been doing just that—managing Keshav Raichand’s well-being like a mother hen. The familiarity of it all, the warmth of being home, eased something inside Nandini.

She had lost a dream, but she hadn’t lost herself.

And maybe, just maybe, home was exactly what she needed right now. She dropped her bags near the entrance and turned to her grandfather.

“You’re okay, right?” she asked, scanning his face for any signs of exhaustion. “You’ve been eating properly?”

Grandpa scoffed. “Nandu, I am not some weak old man who forgets to eat.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Last time I called, Lakshmi Aunty said you conveniently ‘forgot’ to have lunch because you were too busy scolding the new neighbour.”

He huffed, crossing his arms.

“That’s different. That man is a menace! Always complaining about the leaves falling into his fancy swimming pool.”

Nandini tried not to smile. “And you, of course, ignored all his complaints?”

He shrugged, completely unapologetic. “It’s not my fault he bought a house next to a decades-old mango tree. Maybe he should’ve done some research before moving in.”

Nandini bit her lip, holding back a laugh.Same old Daadu.Before she could say anything, Lakshmi Aunty appeared with a tray of tea and biscuits.

“Hot tea is here,” she announced. Then, eyeing Nandini, she smiled. “Finally, you’re home. Now, maybe I will see your grandfather smiling and enjoying himself instead of arguing all the time with the new neighbour.”

Grandpa groaned. “Don’t start, Lakshmi. I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up here today with the exact count of leaves fallen in his pool.”

Nandini giggled, taking the cup of tea from the tray.

“He actually does that?”

He shook his head, frowning.

“Oh, this is nothing. Didn’t I tell you? He’s even sent me legal notices in the past few months. None of which are going to deter me.”

Nandini sipped her tea quickly and placed the cup down before standing up. “Okay, that reminds me, I really need to go and see Daadi.”

Her grandfather nodded.

“She was missing you too, Nandu,” he replied with that quiet affection only he could express. “Go meet her.”