The first rays of dawn, like hesitant fingers, reached through the windowpanes, painting the Mehra household in a soft, ethereal glow. The air was still thick with the slumber of night, punctuated only by the gentle clinking of cutlery from the dining room. 

Janhvi Mehra, her hair cascading in soft waves around her shoulders, standing near the kitchen counter, a picture of elegant composure. Her eyes, the color of warm honey, her eyes were fixed on the veggies in her hand, its golden surface reflecting the rising sun.