In our house, ordering one kurti online feels less like shopping and more like a military operation. Like if a Myntra or Amazon parcel arrives at our door, it passes through three levels of customs security (Dadi, Bua, and the final boss, My mumma) before it reaches me. “Aur ek naya kapda?” “Kitna kharch karti hai.” “Iska toh roz ka ho gaya hai.”

To avoid the 45-minute interrogation about my financial choices and wardrobe size, I now get my parcels delivered to my friend’s house or ask the delivery guy “Bhaiya please call me, ghar pe mat dena.” and the funniest part?

Everyone in the house thinks I shop too much, but half the time I buy things only after adding them to cart for 3 months and waiting for a sale.

But explaining that? Impossible.

So yes, my parcels arrive more secretly than family gossip.

And honestly… I know every girl from a joint family is reading this and smiling a little.