Chapter 26

The wide marble hall echoed with the loud greetings of seven broad-shouldered athletes. Heavy leather juttis clicked against the floor tiles as the boys moved into the spacious living area, settling onto the dark teak sofas and low velvet stools surrounding the central carved table.

Plates stacked with steaming samosas, crisp pakoras, and bowls of mint chutney sat on the glass surface alongside brass tumblers of cold water.

Pamma unbuttoned the top two buttons of his khadi shirt, leaning back against the cushions while Jassi Gill unrolled a hand-drawn diagram of the village Kabaddi ground onto the table.

“Come, brothers. First eat tea-fritters, then we talk strategy.” (Aao, veere. Pehlan chai-pakore khao, fer strategy di gal karde aa.)

A smile touched his cheek as he picked up a samosa, pointing a thumb toward the verandah archway where Rukhsar was setting down a fresh brass urn of cardamom tea.

Tari Brar grabbed a pakora, dipping it into the green chutney while his eyes scanned the tactical layout on the paper.

“Strategy is clean, Captain. Moga’s stoppers on the first raid itself will come hitting their chests. Jaggi’s main stopper, Seera, will handle the center line and right corner.” (Strategy saaf ae, Captain. Moga aale stoppers pehli raid te hi chhati thok ke aawange. Jaggi da main stopper, Seera, center line te right corner sambhalega.)

Amrit Sandhu leaned forward over his knees, adjusting his spectacles as his fingers traced the right boundary line on the diagram.

“Seera’s hold is strong, but his footwork is slow. If on the first raid dodging him a push is hit, then his balance will break completely.” (Seera da hold strong ae, par ohda footwork slow ae. Agar pehli raid te ohnu dodge karke daik maari, te ohda balance bilkul tut jaawega.)

The distinct chime of silver jhanjharan sounded from the kitchen corridor, signaling Meher’s approach before her tall frame entered the hall.

Silence fell over the living room instantly as all seven players sat up straight, their postures turning rigid and polite. Pamma quickly rebuttoned his shirt collar, while Jassi Gill pulled his feet back off the low wooden footstool, folding his hands over his lap.

Meher glided into the room, her peach-pink silk Patiala suit swishing softly over her long legs. She held a silver tray carrying fresh porcelain teacups, her chin lifted high with natural Sardarni authority as her hazel eyes swept over the gathered squad.

“Greetings, Sardaarni Ji!” (Sat Sri Akaal, Sardaarni Ji!)

The entire team spoke in unison, their voices respectful and subdued.

Meher set the tray onto the side table, her face relaxed into a warm, polite expression as she looked at Pamma and Jassi.

“Greetings, boys. Sit comfortably, eat tea-fritters. Came from the fields, must be tired. Dinner is getting prepared in the kitchen, everyone go after eating rotis.” (Sat Sri Akaal, mundeyo. Aaram nal baitho, chai-pakore khao. Khetan ton aaye ho, thak gaye hovonge. Dinner rasoi ch tayyar ho reha ae, sab roti kha ke jaayo.)

Pamma folded his hands together, bowing his head with deep respect.

“Yes, Sister-in-law! Many thanks. The Haveli’s service has no answer.” (Ji, Bhabi Ji! Bahut dhanwaad. Haveli di sewa da te jawab nahi.)

“Just don’t make mitti clutter, told Brother-in-law already.” (Bas mitti da lera na paana, Deor Ji nu bol ditta si pehlan hi.)

A soft, amused smile touched her painted lips as her gaze flicked toward him, her jhanjharan chiming loud as she turned to glide back toward the dining corridor.