I woke up to the the rich aroma of coffee wafting through the air, mingling with the scent of aromatic ghee chapathi and the famishing aroma of potato bhaji. I stretched, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the window. Today was Saturday, the day my family and I always gathered for breakfast. It was our little tradition, one that reminded me how much I cherished my life, despite the chaos that sometimes surrounded us. “Rey,Kia…. Breakfast!” my Mum called from the kitchen, her voice full of excitement. She always had that energy, like a puppy bounding through life. We called her ‘Nennu’. It was a sound i made as a baby whenever i saw her, and it stuck ever since.

“Coming!” I shouted back,as i  splashed cold water on my face and quickly brushed my teeth . As I descended the stairs, I heard my mother humming softly to a tune I couldn’t quite place. She was always humming, a habit that filled our home with warmth.

“Good morning my favourite little humans!” she beamed as we entered the kitchen, her shirt dusted with flour and wet prints that she probably wiped on.She turned to flip a pancake, the sizzling sound filling the air with a mouth-watering promise. “You’re just in time.” She insisted on making her famous millet pancakes with vegan chocolate chips, considering i am lactose intolerant.

“Famous?”  scoffed, her hands on her hips. “They’re legendary! Just wait until you taste them.”
I laughed,as She ruffed my hair as I took my seat. “You mean legendary as in ‘I forgot to add the sugar’ legendary?”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that was a one-time mistake!” She shot back, pretending to be offended.
My Dad wandered in, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What’s this? A family feud over sugarless pancakes?” He plopped down at the table, his grin infectious. “I’m placing my bets on Dad.”

“Good choice!” Dad declared, his chest puffing up with pride. “Just you wait!”

As we dug into breakfast, the laughter flowed freely. My mother recounted a story from her childhood, her voice rich with nostalgia. “I remember when my brother and I tried to make breakfast for our parents. We burnt the toast and set it on fire. They came down to a kitchen full of smoke and two frightened kids.”

“Did you get in trouble?” I asked, curiosly.

“Not really. They just told us to clean up our mess and we ate out instead,” she smiled, her eyes twinkling. “That’s when I learned that sometimes things don’t go as planned, and that’s okay.”
I paused, letting her words sink in. It was a lesson I often struggled with. I had a habit of wanting everything to be perfect, a characteristic that sometimes made me anxious. “Maybe I should try to be more like you, Nennu,” I said softly.

“Just remember, Rey,” she said, her tone gentle but firm, “Life is messy. Embrace it.”
After breakfast, the four of us ,Dad,Nennu, my baby sister Kiara and I gathered in the living room, where the sun poured in through the large window, casting a warm glow over our worn-out couch and mismatched chairs. We settled in for our weekly board game..’Sequence’, a tradition that always brought out our competitive sides.

“Ready to lose?” Dad teased, setting up the game board.

“Oh, you’re on!” Kia shot back, her voice  racing with excitement. I loved these moments—the laughter, the playful banter, and the sense of belonging that enveloped me. 

As we played, the game unfolded in its usual chaotic manner, filled with playful insults and strategic alliances. My father was in rare form, making ridiculous claims about his prowess. “I’m the Sequence champion, remember? No one can touch my skills!”

“Except when you land on my turf!” Nennu replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yeah, well, We’ll see about that.” Dad retorted, winking at me. 

“Good luck with that,” I laughed, “You’ll need it!” 

But as I glanced around the room, I felt a familiar pang of worry. My parents had been talking about shifting to a new house. The idea of losing this space—the memories, the laughter—made my stomach twist. I had grown attached to every nook and cranny, every corner where laughter echoed and love lingered.

After the game, I felt restless. “Hey, do you mind if I go for a walk?” I asked.

“Sure, sweetheart,” my mom said, concern flashing in her eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just… need some air,” I replied, forcing a smile. 

As I stepped outside, the crisp air filled my lungs, but it did little to ease the weight on my chest. I wandered down the familiar path that wound through the park, the crunch of leaves underfoot interrupting my thoughts. I loved this place—the tall trees swaying gently in the breeze, the laughter of children playing in the distance, and the view of the sun setting.

“Hey! Reyaansh!” a voice called out. It was Saadhya, my best friend since  we were 5.. Her brown hair bouncing as she jogged toward me. “What are you doing here?”

“Just clearing my head,” I said, forcing a smile. “What about you?”

“Trying to get in shape for the 5K marathon next month. You should join me!” she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious.

“Maybe,” I replied, though the thought of training felt daunting. I was never one for discipline although i loved to run. “I’ll think about it.”

She stepped closer, concern  across her face. “You sure you’re okay? You’ve been a bit off lately.”
“It’s nothing, really,” I insisted, but the tension in my voice betrayed me.

“Come on, you can tell me.
I sighed, “It’s just… my parents want to move houses. I don’t want to leave this place. It feels like home.”

Saadhya nodded, understanding. “I get it. But home is more than just a place, right? It’s the people. You’ll always have each other.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just hard to let go,” my voice barely above a whisper.

“Let’s go grab some vegan  ice cream,” she suggested, her expression brightening. “Nothing like a scoop of coconut milk mint chocolate chip to clear your mind!”

I chuckled. “You always know how to cheer me up.”

As we walked to the ice cream shop, our conversation flowed effortlessly, the weight of my worries lifting with each shared laugh. We reminisced about our childhood, the silly things we did, and the dreams we had for the future.

 
“Remember when we thought we could be famous singers?” Saadhya laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh, God! Don’t remind me! We were awful!” I groaned,

 
“Yeah, but we had fun,” she replied, nudging me playfully. “That’s what mattered.”

When we reached the shop, the bell chimed as we stepped inside, the cool air enveloping us. The vibrant colors of the ice cream displayed behind the glass counter made my mouth water. “One vegan  mint chocolate chip, please!” I ordered, and Saadhya followed suit.

We settled on a bench outside, the warm sun felt so nice. “So, what’s the plan for the rest of your weekend?” Saadhya asked, licking her cone.

“I’m not sure. Probably just hang out with my family,” I said.

“Sounds nice. You know you’re lucky, right?” she said, her tone sincere. “Not everyone has a family like yours.”

“I guess”, I replied, the warmth in my chest returning. “But sometimes I feel like I don’t appreciate them enough.”

“Just tell them how you feel,” she encouraged, her voice softening. “You’d be surprised how much it means to them.”

As I savored my ice cream, her words lingered in my mind. Maybe I needed to be more open, to share my thoughts and feelings with the people I loved. Life was fleeting, and I didn’t want to take it for granted.

Later that evening, I returned home, the sun dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant hues of purple and gold.My family was gathered in the living room, the familiar sound of laughter filling the space.

“Hey, you’re back!” Nennu called, bouncing on the couch.

“Rey, can you help me?” my dad asked, holding up his toolbox.

“Sure!” I replied, feeling a sense of purpose wash over me.

As we worked together, I felt a sense of belonging—a reminder of how precious these moments were. I glanced at my family, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp. It struck me then: my life was filled with love, laughter, and the kind of chaos that made everything worthwhile.

“Hey, can I say something?” I began, my heart racing. They all turned to me, curiosity on their faces. “I know life isn’t always perfect, but I just want you all to know how much I appreciate you. This family means everything to me.”

Tears glistened in my Nennu’s eyes as she smiled. “Oh, sweetheart, we feel the same way.”
“Yeah, we’re stuck with each other,” Dad added with a grin, nudging me playfully.

          In that moment, I realized that no matter where we ended up, no matter how many curveballs life threw our way, this bond,this family would always be my foundation. And that was more than enough.

As the night wore on, I knew I had a good life. A life filled with imperfect moments, but also with endless love, laughter, and the unwavering support of those I cherished most. And that, I concluded, was the greatest treasure of all.