Kavita smiled, returning to the kitchen. In an Indian household, peace wasn't found in winning an argument; it was found in the quiet compromise of a shared breakfast.

By evening, the kitchen — always the emotional cockpit of an Indian home — hosts the climax. Riya, Kavya, and Geeta chop vegetables in tense silence. The knife on the baarish board. The sizzle of cumin seeds. Then:

This is the duality of the Indian lifestyle: chaos covered in a fresh rangoli .

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