Jai placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, silently supporting her. Tiya, too, smirked and raised her tea cup in agreement.
The elderly man seemed taken aback, but instead of arguing further, he merely let out a small huff and turned away. The tension slowly eased, and soon enough, the lively chatter of the tea stall returned.
Jai took another sip of his chai and smiled. "Well, that was an interesting conversation."
Tiya nodded, biting into another bajjiya. "Yeah. But honestly, if we let outdated opinions dictate our lives, we'd never be able to enjoy even a simple cup of chai."
Chahat smiled at her friends, grateful for their presence. She looked around the tea stall again, watching young couples giggle and whisper, old friends share hearty laughs, and steaming cups of chai bring warmth to all. This place truly held countless stories—some whispered, some spoken aloud, and some, like hers, waiting to unfold.
As the sun dipped behind the hills, casting a golden glow over the town, Chahat silently made a promise to herself. She would continue to live on her own terms, unapologetically and freely. Just like the tea here, life was meant to be savored—one sip at a time.
Despite her youthful voice, there was an undeniable confidence in it—one that couldn't be easily shaken. Only then did she realize the attention she had drawn to herself. A hint of hesitation flickered across her face, but she quickly composed herself.
"Sorry for my interruption," she said, her tone sincere yet firm. "I shouldn't have voiced my opinion in front of my elders. But I just couldn't stop myself. What that uncle said… it didn't seem practical at all."
An elderly man, who had been listening intently, gave a warm chuckle. "No need to apologize, young girl. It's good that you have your own thoughts, especially at your age. Many children your age hesitate to speak up, but you didn't. That's admirable."
The other elders nodded in agreement.
"But, little one, you haven't told us your name yet," another elder pointed out with curiosity.
Before Chahat could respond, Tiya stepped forward, beaming with pride. "She's my new friend," she announced. "Her name is Chahat. She's new to the city and our school."
A few heads turned toward the newcomer, their expressions softening with intrigue. The warmth of the group eased Chahat's initial apprehension.
"Chahat, we may be older," an elder woman spoke up, her voice gentle but resolute. "But we are not so rigid that we cannot accept change in our lives. Feel free to share your thoughts. Your perspective is just as valuable as anyone else's."
"Yes, yes," another voice chimed in, followed by a collective nod from the group.
The atmosphere had shifted. What was once a one-sided discussion had now become a space where different viewpoints were welcomed. However, not everyone was pleased with this turn of events. The very uncle who had earlier dismissed Tiya's words as naïve now sat with a deep frown, his face turning a shade of crimson—much like an overripe beetroot.