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ख्वाब ही बस रह गए हैं
जिनमे हो तुम हमसफर मेरे
असल में तुम नही हो मेरे
तुम नही हो मेरे
please vote complete kar dena iss baari…it’s almost 8k+ words…kanjoosi mat karna pleaseeee….
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Vivaan didn’t realize he was staring until she gave him a death glare, leaned in ever so slightly and smacked him lightly on his arm.
“Ow! Dimaag toh thik hai tumhara?” he whispered, groaning in pain.
She whispered back coldly, “Ghurna band karo nahi toh phir se padegi.”
Vivaan rolled his eyes, muttering sarcastically, “Mujhe tumhari shakal dekhne ka shauk hai kya? chudail jaisi to shakal hai…chiii.”
She raised a brow in warning, “achha ji…to tumhari bhi gadhe jaisi ban jaye to? “and before he could react she shoved him forward.
Right in front of the teacher, the teacher raise his eyebrows meanwhile vivaan gulped for his life.
Mr. Dubey glared at him like he’d just committed a national crime. “Tum yahan kya kar rahe ho? Storeroom mein akele?! class nahii chal rahi tumhari?”
“Sir..v..voo to mainn..bsss?” Vivaan gave a weak, guilty smile as he straightened himself.
tumhe zara si bhi responsibility hai ki nahi…kuch seekhte bhi ho apne bhaii se ya bss sharartein hi aati hai” the techer scolded him.
sir m yah nahii aya tha..vo to mujhe ye lekar ayi..” he said as he pointed towards the girl’s direction.
kon?…mujhe to koii nahii dikha raha?” the teacher said looking at the emplty space.
“I… uh… voh…yhii to thii abhii….” Vivaan stumbled, looking around helplessly, the girl was gone, escaped like a ninja.
“Issa hafte tumhare parents ko bulaunga. Roz nayi harkatein! kab sudhroge tum?”
And there he stood, getting a full-on scolding session, while the criminal made her clean getaway probably grinning somewhere down the corridor.
“Main nahi chhodunga is chudail ko,” Vivaan muttered under his breath, already plotting revenge.
The living room at Aditi’s house was unusually full today.
Priya and Vivaan had come over to complete some study work for the upcoming mid-terms. Shagun was already lounging on the couch with a physics book on her face, clearly regretting all her life choices. Meanwhile, upstairs the seniors were locked in Prateek’s room, supposedly “studying,” but more likely trying to stop Ruhaan from falling asleep mid-equation.
Aditi was setting up the table for the group’s combined study session when the doorbell rang. She opened it, her face instantly lighting up. “Riva!”
Riva, dressed casually in a loose tee and jeans, her hair tied up in a bun entered with a casual smile. “You told me to come, to main aa gayi”
“Come in na!” Aditi pulled her into a side hug as Priya and Shagun turned to look curiously.
“Oh, hellow is this your cousin you were talking about!” Priya waved and asked aditi.
ha yahi hai riva” she anwered looking at riva with huge smile.
“hello! nice to meet you didi…you must be priya didi…. I just shifted here. New admission in your school too,” Riva replied, her tone breezy.
Just then, Vivaan walked in from the kitchen, sipping water straight from a steel tumbler, still mildly fuming about the morning storeroom incident. He looked up, completely unaware.
“Adu, yaar, tere bottle mein namak tha kya? namkeen sa lag raha hai” vivaan said without looking up gaze still fixed on the water bottle drinking it again.
vo chod… meet her…riva…my cousin…” aditi said excietedly.
As Vivaan casually turned toward the direction Aditi pointed at, time stopped.
His eyes landed on her and instantly widened like saucers. His jaw dropped. His grip on the steel tumbler loosened, but it was already too late.
The water in his mouth a good gulp turned into a full-force water jet, launching like a missile across the room.
SPLAAAAAAASH.
It hit Riva square in the face. Not a drop was spared.
From her forehead to her toes, she was drenched. Her bun, once confidently messy, now resembled a soaked bird’s nest. Her t-shirt clung uncomfortably to her like wet tissue paper.
For a moment, silence.Everyone froze.
Riva’s eyes, tightly shut from the impact, slowly opened, burning daggers of pure murder in them. Her breathing shallow. Her hands stiff at her sides. The dripping sound from her clothes echoed like a ticking bomb.
Vivaan, meanwhile, had frozen with his mouth still slightly open, the steel tumbler now forgotten on the floor.
“So… s-so… sorry… v-vo–” he stammered, hands halfway raised in surrender, completely pale and shaking. But he didn’t get the chance to finish.
“Kaafi achhi greeting di… tumne.” Riva’s voice was low. Dangerous. Teeth clenched so tightly it looked like her jaw would crack.
“Riva… Riva… dekh galti se ho gaya bas! sorr-” But before he could finish his lifeline speech, she launched herself at him like a cheetah after prey.
“Tu nahii bachega aaj…?!” she shrieked.
“AAAAAAHHH! BHAGWAN KASAM MAINE TOH SIRF PAANI PIYA THAAAAA!” Vivaan screamed, ducking just in time as a pillow whizzed past his head, barely missing it and hitting the wall.
Riva grabbed whatever her hands could find, remote, cushion, rolled-up notebook, Shagun’s hairclip, glass plants, and hurled them all one by one at Vivaan as he zigzagged around the living room.
“Main mar jaunga! dekh k to maar kya maar rahi hai?!” he beggeg for his life.
“ha to marr ja naa…banrakhas ” she barked.
Aditi tried stepping in. “Riva bas kar yaar chhod de janede usko!”
“aap chup raho didi…aap janti nahii ho isse ” Riva growled, charging again.
The stairs echoed with heavy footsteps as Ansh, Prateek, and Ruhaan came rushing down, all frowning.
“Kya ho raha hai?!” Ruhaan asked, bewildered.
But before anyone could answer, Vivaan came sprinting in from the hallway like a hunted animal, his expression a mix of sheer panic and desperation. Without a second thought, he launched himself behind Prateek, grabbing the back of his shirt like a lifeline.
“Bhaiya! Bachaaa lo! Ye aapki behen mujhe jaan se maar degi!” Vivaan shrieked.
Right on cue, Riva stormed in, eyes blazing, holding Shagun’s slipper like a lethal weapon. Her posture screamed “you’re done for.”
Prateek blinked, first at Vivaan, then at Riva, whose fury practically radiated heat. He took a cautious step back, hands in the air.
“Bhai tu kon?… Main nahi jata isse. Riva, tum apna dekh lo.” His voice was cool, casual a masterclass in betrayal.
“Bade batameez ho yrr bhaiya aap!” Vivaan howled as his supposed savior abandoned him.
With Riva back in pursuit, Vivaan dashed again, this time toward the girls, hoping someone might take pity on him.
But in his desperate escape, he grabbed Priya’s wrist, trying to use her as cover. He twirled too fast, too hard his panic clearly messing with his coordination.
“AAAAAHH”
There was a loud thud as Priya lost her balance, stumbling straight into Prateek, who, despite the chaos, reached out and caught her instinctively.
Both of them crashed onto the sofa, tangled awkwardly in each other’s arms. Her hair fell over her face, their breaths collided, and their faces were suddenly just inches apart.
A half-filled water bottle came whizzing through the air, like a missile with no mercy. It had been launched with precision and pure fury by Riva, still on a rampage, aiming somewhere near Vivaan but he ducked just in time, completely unaware that he had just sacrificed Ruhaan’s head in the process.
“RUHAAN!” Shagun screamed, eyes wide as she saw the bottle heading straight for him. In a split-second decision, she lunged forward and yanked him aside, just before impact.
Ruhaan stumbled, completely caught off guard, and crashed into Shagun, nearly taking both of them down. But Shagun, somehow, held her ground, steadying him with both hands as he blinked in shock.
His hair was tousled, his balance gone, and he looked like he had just returned from war.
“Abhi jata mera handsome face!” Ruhaan muttered dazedly, clutching his heart, as if he’d narrowly escaped a tragic destiny
Meanwhile, in the middle of all the flying objects, near-death experiences, and dramatic collisions, Aditi rushed forward, her only goal to stop Riva from murdering Vivaan.
“Riva, bas kar na yaar! Vivaan pagal hai par-” She never got to finish.
Her foot was mid-air, about to come down right over a shattered piece of glass a jagged remnant from the jug that had broken earlier during the chaos. She hadn’t noticed it in her panic.
“AAAHH!” she gasped as her balance shifted dangerously.
“Aditi!” Ansh’s voice cut through the madness like a lightning bolt.
In a single, urgent stride, he was beside her his arms wrapping around her waist just in time. He pulled her into him, her head colliding with his chest, and turned her away from the glass-littered floor, shielding her.
There was a beat of silence. Her fingers instinctively clutched the fabric of his shirt, trying to steady herself.
“Dekhti nahi ho? Kat jaata pair tumhara!” His voice was low but sharp equal parts scolding and worry, his eyes locked onto hers with concern that ran deeper than he ever said out loud.
Her breath hitched. She was close, too close and yet she couldn’t look away. “Sorry… main bas usko rokne-” She murmured, voice breathless, heart racing not just from the near-injury.
But chaos wasn’t done yet. Not even close.
Vivaan leapt over the centre table like a Bollywood hero, tripping on a cushion, but somehow landing upright. Riva was right behind him, her expression resembling a wrathful goddess mid-war. Her eyes glinted with murder. Literal murder.
“RIVA, MAIN KASAM KHATA HOON! Aaj ke baad PAANI bhi nahii piunga!” he howled mid-run, nearly knocking over a vase.
“Tujhe peene layak chodungi tab to piyega tu!” she snapped, teeth gritted and that was it.
She darted into the kitchen and grabbed a KNIFE off the counter.
Everything froze for a second.
Vivaan saw it and let out a sound between a gasp and a shriek. “AREYYY KOII sambhalo iss pagal aurat ko! CHAKU se maar dalegi mujhe ye?!” he cried dramatically, scrambling behind the dining table like his life depended on it. “Shaadi bhi nahii huii meri to abhii!”
Riva’s hand trembled with fury, the knife raised high like she was in a soap opera finale. Her jaw clenched, breathing heavy, her wrist ready to throw…
But before she could release it, Prateek stormed in, eyes wide, and caught her wrist mid-air in a tight, unshakable grip.
“OYE! Yeh kya kar rahi hai?!” he shouted, genuinely alarmed.
Riva glared at him, panting, rage still bubbling under her skin. But his grip didn’t waver.
At the same time, Ansh, who was holding Aditi protectively by the waist gently left her, reached out smoothly and snatched the knife from her hand, his expression unreadable.
“Pagal ho gayi ho kya? Jail jana hai kya?” he said, voice low, sharp, disappointed.
“Par usne…” Riva started to argue, her tone still fiery.
“Pehle usse maarna band karo, phir sunenge!” Prateek cut her off, tightening his grip just slightly as he tried to calm her down.
On the floor, behind an overturned chair, Vivaan slowly peeked out, face pale and hair wild.
He clutched his chest like a 90s drama queen. “Thank you bhagwaan jii…” he whispered, blinking up at the ceiling in relief, as if he’d narrowly escaped death on national television.
Riva was still fuming her eyes locked onto Vivaan like a lioness eyeing her prey. She stood at the base of the stairs, drenched, breathing heavily, while he had completely camouflaged himself behind the thick living room curtains, his hands clutching the edges like they were his last shield. Vivaan refused to make eye contact, sitting there like a defeated squirrel afraid to even move.
“Tu chal pehle kapde change kar le…tabiyat kharab ho jayegi,” Aditi finally said, grabbing Riva’s arm and tugging her upstairs toward her room.
But even as she moved, Riva’s eyes didn’t leave Vivaan burning holes through the curtain fabric as if she could melt it with her glare. Vivaan whimpered under his breath, practically on the verge of tears.
At that exact moment, the door creaked open again.
Samaira entered, with Aman right behind her, carrying some papers and their usual college bags. Their voices faded the second they stepped in eyes widening at the spectacle before them.
“Ye kya kabadkhana bana diya tumlogo ne?!” Samaira asked, her tone part horror, part disbelief.
The rest of the gang, who had just begun catching their breath, straightened up like guilty children caught mid-mischief.
“Wrestling chal rahi thi kya yaha pe?” Aman equally shocked from behind, raising an eyebrow as he took in the broken jug, toppled chairs, and cushion massacre.
As they walked further into the battlefield of a house, Samaira failed to notice the water spilled across the tiles. Her foot slipped…
“AHHH!” she yelped as she crashed down.
“Samaira!” Aman lunged forward to save her but ended up slipping right after, landing beside her with a thud.
The room went silent for a beat… before everyone bit their lips, desperately holding back their laughter. Ruhaan had even ducked behind a cushion to hide his grin.
“Ye kara kisne hai?! M chodungi nahi usse!” Samaira screeched, trying to get up with Aman’s help, her expression darkening with rage.
Without a second’s delay, every single finger in the room shamelessly pointed toward Vivaan, who had now managed to crawl to a chair and was sitting on it, drenched in sweat and panic.
“Chuhee… kahiii keeeeeee!!” Samaira shrieked again, glaring at him like a teacher catching a student doodling in an exam.
“Ab kya ho gaya?” Vivaan jolted, almost falling off the chair. He blinked at her like a kicked puppy, completely clueless about what to say.
“M batati hu tujhe… jaldi se ghar saaf kar poora!” Samaira ordered, her tone final.
“Par didi maine to ganda hi nahi kiya… ye to Riva ne kiya hai!” Vivaan whined, pointing helplessly toward the staircase.
“Ik laat marungi nachta phirega! Didi, isne pehle mujpe paani pheka tha!” Riva shouted, now fully changed and coming down the stairs with Aditi beside her.
“Haan to tune bhi to subah school main dant khilvai thi mujhe!” Vivaan shot back, this time standing his ground, arms flailing in defense.
“Haan to tum hi to mujhe stalk karte hue aaye the!” Riva yelled, stepping closer.
“Haan to usse kya matlab… chudailo ki tarah ghoomegi to kya karunga mai?!” Vivaan retorted, his voice raising an octave, even mimicking her walk in exaggerated movements.
Riva’s hands curled into fists. “Teri to main-“
“Enough!” Ansh’s voice thundered from the corner. Everyone turned silent instantly. He rubbed his temple, clearly on the verge of losing it. “Boht hua tum logo ka tamasha… Chup chaap dono ik-ik kone mai baithe raho!”
“Ham log saaf kar denge ye sab… bas tum dono apna muh mat kholna!” Prateek added with an exhausted sigh.
There was a moment of stillness. Then, all eyes turned toward Prateek glaring at him as if he’d just handed them all detention. But they knew he was right.
Shweta and Amit were due home any minute, and if they walked into this, there would be no one left alive by morning. Everyone sprang into action.
Ruhaan grabbed the broom, Shagun collected the pillows, Priya gathered the scattered books, Aman mopped up the water, and Ansh helped gather the broken pieces from the floor. Aditi arranger the tables.
Prateek placing things back at their places. All the while, Vivaan and Riva sat at opposite corners of the room, both fuming, occasionally muttering under their breaths but not daring to speak aloud again.
Time had moved ahead swiftly, and with the reopening of school came the one thing most students dreaded, mid-term examinations, now looming just three weeks away. But before that wave of academic pressure could hit, the school had two major events lined up back-to-back: Independence Day and Janmashtami celebrations, with only a two-day gap in between.
Meanwhile, Aman and Samaira were caught up in their final semester exams and practicals, each moment crucial as these would determine their future internships and career paths.
The school was already bustling with activity. Students were rushing across corridors, teachers were shouting instructions, decorations were halfway up.
In the middle of all this rush stood Ansh, calm yet commanding. As the Senior Under Officer (SUO) in NCC and acting Head Boy, he had taken it upon himself to oversee the arrangements. Despite the chaos, his face had a subtle glow, eyes scanning every detail sharply as he coordinated with teachers, giving orders and helping when needed.
While Ansh was inspecting the setup with the faculty, a different drama was unfolding nearby.
Charu had taken up a lead role in the Independence Day skit along with Prateek, but things weren’t going as smoothly as she had hoped. Priya was giving her a solid run for her money her performance sharp, emotional, and impactful.
“It’s really difficult to select one of you for this particular role,” said Ms. Nisha, the drama in-charge, her voice laced with genuine confusion.
“Ma’am, we should give the chance to Priya… she has taken part for the first time,” Vivaan said, standing to the side and offering a rare moment of seriousness.
Ms. Nisha nodded slightly, considering it. “Hmmm… you’re right… but…” she hesitated.
“Ma’am, but we just can’t give the role to anyone… right!” Charu interjected, her irritation clearly bubbling beneath the surface.
Before the situation could worsen, Priya stepped forward, her tone calm but firm. “Ma’am, but agar aisa hua to phir to new comers kabhi try hi nahi karenge… because they’ll think talent ki value nahi hai… bass jo role karta hai usi ko role phir se mil jata hai.”
“Yes, ma’am, vo sahi bol rahi hai,” Shagun and Aditi joined in supportively, standing beside Priya.
Ms. Nisha glanced between the girls, weighing the fairness of the moment. Then she finally nodded. “Hmm… okay then. Priya, you’re final. Charu beta, tum ye wala role kar lo iss baari.”
Charu’s lips parted in disbelief. “But… ma’am, it’s not fair… I was doing better than her!”
“Koi baat nahi beta, let her do this time na,” Ms. Nisha said gently, trying to keep the peace.
Before the tension could be eased, Aditi smirked and added just the line that she knew would set Charu off: “Haan aur vaise bhi… Prateek bhaiya ki behen ka role to tujhe mil hi raha hai… stage presence to hogi hi teri.”
Charu’s eyes narrowed. “Tu to chup hi reh!” she snapped, her voice sharp and cutting.
Still frustrated, she turned to Ms. Nisha again. “Ma’am, but it’s unfair-“
“Enough, Charu!” Ms. Nisha said, her tone now firmer. “You’re doing the role from the past two years. Let others get the chance as well.” She paused, then added briskly, “Anyways, mere paas itna time nahi hai. Tumko ye role karna hai to karo, warna I’ll find someone else.”
That was the end of it. Ms. Nisha walked away, leaving a fuming Charu behind as everyone else stared in awkward silence.
Then, just as Charu stood there processing the rejection, Vivaan leaned over and whispered just loud enough, “Bechari bhaiya ki behen ka role mila tha, vo bhi chhin gaya… hawwww.”
Charu’s fists clenched.
“Chalo koi nahi… Priya to hai hi main lead ki lover… behen ko kon hi poochega,” Shagun chimed in innocently, trying to hide her grin.
That was the last straw.
Without another word, Charu spun on her heel and marched out of the auditorium, her anger practically trailing behind her like fire. The rest of the group exchanged glances a mix of amusement and relief.
Shagun, standing beside her, crossed her arms with a knowing smirk and leaned in to whisper seriously, “Oye tu ab to bhaiya ko bol de na…that you like him.”
Before Priya could even open her mouth to respond, Vivaan who always managed to show up at the wrong time with the worst timing popped in from behind the curtains with a mischievous grin and added.”Huh…ye kya hi bolegi, iski pehle hi phatt jati hai.”
Priya rolled her eyes and huffed,”Aisa nahii ha jii….” But her voice was too small to sound convincing.
Aditi, already watching her with that all-too-familiar teasing sparkle in her eyes, jumped in with a wicked grin, “To kaisa hai bhabhi ji…” Her tone was so singsong and sly that Priya almost dropped her script.
Eyes wide, Priya elbowed Aditi and whispered urgently, “Pagal hai kya…sun lenge tere bhaiya to?” She glanced around nervously, half-expecting Prateek to appear from nowhere.
But Aditi wasn’t about to back down. She laughed and said, “To sunn lene de na…tu to bol nahii rhi, mujhe hi bolne de, bata, bulva du?” She even winked, as if already planning the chaos.
Priya, now fully flustered, gripped Aditi’s arm. “Nhii….pagal hai…m khud bol dungi sahi time pe tu mat bolna kuch,” she warned, her face practically matching the red curtains behind them.
Shagun, who had been silently enjoying the show, tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “Aur vo sahi time kab ayega tera?” she asked, clearly skeptical.
Before Priya could even think of an answer, Vivaan clapped his hands dramatically and declared,
“Kabhi nahi,” And then ran, laughing, as Priya lunged at him with her notebook in the air, chasing him across the backstage area while the others burst into laughter.
The soft afternoon light slipped through the classroom windows.
Priya stood center stage, delivering her lines with confidence, while Prateek watched her closely, arms crossed, trying to hide his smile at her dramatic flair.
Ms. Nisha clapped lightly. “Good! For the next scene, the script needs some modification… Priya, come with me. Prateek, you wait here. We’ll be back.”
“Sure, ma’am,” Priya replied, and Prateek nodded silently.
As the door closed behind them, quiet filled the room. Prateek sat on a desk, fingers tapping nervously. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he thought, maybe through this skit, I’ll finally get to call her mine.
The door creaked open again. It wasn’t Priya. It was Charu.
She stepped inside slowly her eyes red, but not with the fragility of someone hurt more with the practiced grace of someone who wanted to look like they were. Her sniffles were deliberate, her face twisted just enough to feign the perfect picture of heartbreak.
Every step she took was calculated, hesitant on the surface, but steady underneath as if she already knew what she was about to do.
Prateek stood up, genuinely confused by her sudden appearance. “Charu? Are you okay?”
She didn’t answer. She simply wiped her cheek and shook her head slowly, carefully.
“Should I call Nisha Ma’am? Or someone else?” he asked, concern clear in his voice, already stepping forward out of reflex.
But before he could do anything more, Charu closed the distance between them in one swift move and wrapped her arms tightly around him.
It wasn’t a fragile hug. It was possessive. Like a claim. Prateek stiffened instantly, taken aback. His arms hovered in the air, unsure of what to do, unsure of anything.
“Charu-?” he began, confused and hesitant, but she cut him off, the words falling out with just the right amount of tremble in her voice.
“I like you, Prateek… I’ve always liked you.”
The sentence slammed into him like a wall. His mind reeled not because he didn’t know how to respond, but because it felt off. Sudden. Too perfectly timed.
And unknown to either of them, at that very moment Priya returned.
She walked toward the door, script in hand and a soft smile on her lips, still caught in the warm memory of their last rehearsal together. But as she reached the classroom, her eyes landed on the small glass panel in the door and her world paused.
Charu. In Prateek’s arms. Her face buried in his chest. And he wasn’t moving. Priya’s smile vanished. Her heart crashed in her chest.
Before she could even process the words being exchanged, she stepped back instinctively, her breath lodging in her throat. The script slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the ground like the moment slipping through her hands. And she turned, walking away quickly, blindly, her mind refusing to process what she had just seen.
Inside the classroom, Prateek’s eyes flicked toward the door and he saw her.
He called. “PRIYA!”
But Charu only tightened her grip, her voice low and desperate. “Please don’t go.”
His voice sharpened now. “Charu, chhodo mujhe.”
She didn’t let go.
His hands finally moved not with force, but with firm intent. He gently pried her arms off him and stepped back, putting clear space between them. His jaw clenched, brows furrowed no longer confused, but wary.”Charu, listen to me.”
She looked up at him, her mask slipping but not into brokenness. Into something colder. Calculating.
“I don’t feel that way about you. I never have. And I never will.” he said
She tilted her head slightly, eyes searching his, but not for answers for weakness.
“Why?” her voice cracked perfectly timed, perfectly measured.
Prateek swallowed, guilt tugging at his hesitation. “Because…” he exhaled, “I love someone else.”
Her eyes narrowed just a little. “It’s Priya, isn’t it?”
He looked away for the briefest moment, but then met her gaze again, more certain than ever. “Yes. It’s always been Priya.”
This time, Charu didn’t flinch. She blinked, slow and quiet. The tears that gathered in her eyes weren’t of pain they were of defeat. Temporary defeat.
Prateek, oblivious to the storm she had already planned, softened his voice. “I’m sorry. But I can’t lie to you. You deserve someone who sees you, not someone who’s already lost in someone else.” and with that he left the classroom to run after priya who has just disappeared like a ghost.
The corridor stretched endlessly ahead, each of Priya’s footsteps echoing against the walls, matching the erratic thump of her heartbeat. Her chest ached, but she fought the tears that clung stubbornly to the corners of her eyes. She didn’t want to cry.
With trembling hands, she pushed open the washroom door and slipped into one of the stalls, shutting herself inside, trying to quiet the storm inside her mind.
Why did it hurt so much?
They weren’t anything… not officially. He had never promised her forever. He hadn’t even promised her tomorrow. And yet, seeing Charu in his arms… hearing her say those words… it felt like her world had tilted, just enough to make her fall.
It shouldn’t feel like this. But it does.
“Calm down, Priya… please…” she whispered shakily, voice barely audible. But her tears betrayed her, slipping free despite her efforts.
Then came the sound of heels tapping against the floor, footsteps. Voices. Her body stiffened. She stayed completely still, breath hitched.
Two girls entered the unmistakable voices of Charu’s friends. They didn’t lower their voices, didn’t pause before speaking.
“Yaar, I told you na? Prateek and Charu always had a thing.”
Her heart dropped. A tightness curled in her chest, painful and cruel.
“Hmm, obviously. Tabhi to aaj un dono ne hug kiya itne pyar se. Because Charu was upset that she’ll not be the one in the skit? You don’t hug like that unless something’s been going on.”
She gripped the door handle, knuckles whitening, stomach twisting.
“And anyway, Charu ne bola tha na ki Prateek pehle se hi usse pasand karta hai… now it’s finally out. They’ll make such a perfect couple.”
The words sliced through her, sharp, deliberate, unforgiving.
She couldn’t breathe. The world around her blurred. Their voices rang in her head, louder than they were, spinning in cruel circles. And then… nothing. Just silence. Loud, consuming silence. Her heartbeat roared in her ears, drowning out everything else.
When the girls finally left, their laughter echoing behind them, Priya remained still for several seconds. Then slowly, she unlocked the door and stepped out.
She walked to the mirror and froze. The reflection didn’t look like her.
Red-rimmed eyes. Lips slightly parted. Her face pale, drawn. But it wasn’t just the exhaustion or the quiet grief that haunted her.
Later That Day
Ms. Nisha was surprised when Priya showed up at the staff room.
“Ma’am… vo… I’m really sorry, but I won’t be able to continue in the skit,” she said, forcing a polite smile.
“What happened? You’re doing so well.” Ms. Nisha asked in concern
“Actually… health issues,” Priya lied softly. “My throat’s been acting up, and I don’t want to ruin the play for anyone.”
Ms. Nisha looked concerned but didn’t press. “Alright. Take care of yourself. I’ll make the change.”
Priya nodded and walked out before her composure slipped. Every step away from that rehearsal room felt like walking away from a part of herself she didn’t even realize had grown so attached.
Prateek stood outside the auditorium, his eyes scanning every direction, hoping, praying that Priya would come back. A restless ache sat heavy in his chest. His mind had been a storm ever since she’d walked away.
What if she had seen them? What if she misunderstood everything?
His thoughts spiraled until the sound of approaching footsteps pulled him out of his daze. He turned sharply only to see Ms. Nisha walking toward him, with Charu quietly following behind.
The sight made his gut twist.
“Ma’am… where is Priya?” he asked, his voice laced with urgency.
Ms. Nisha gave him a soft, concerned look. “Beta, she is not playing the role anymore… her throat was not well.”
The words struck him like a punch. Not playing anymore? That couldn’t be right. That wasn’t her.
“And now we don’t have any other option… Charu will replace her place now,” Ms. Nisha continued.
Prateek slowly turned to look at Charu. Her expression was unreadable calm, collected, and almost expectant. But his own face showed none of the emotion she might have hoped for.
Because whatever happened now, one thing was clear in his heart, He had to make things right.
Next day
The auditorium pulsed with energy as dhol beats reverberated off the high ceilings. Students glided across the polished wooden floor, their bodies drenched in sweat and excitement, caught in the fever of Janmashtami dance rehearsals.
Among them, Aditi and Shagun moved effortlessly, adorned in bright practice dupattas, spinning as gopis around the graceful Krisha the delicate-looking junior cast as Radha. Her eyes shone with expression, her movements fluid and full of devotion.
Opposite her, the boy playing Krishna Rihan, a sharp-featured and effortlessly charming junior matched her every move, his steps playful, eyes twinkling with confidence. Together, they created a mesmerizing scene.
But the harmony shattered in an instant. A sharp sound echoed. A beat missed. A gasp.
“Aaahh!” Krisha cried out, stumbling mid-spin and collapsing to the ground, her hands instinctively grabbing at her ankle.
Everything stopped.
“Krisha! Are you okay?!” Shagun exclaimed, panic rising in her voice as she darted toward her.
The music fell silent. The dancers froze. Aditi and Rihan rushed to Krisha’s side at once. Aditi knelt beside her, worry clouding her face as she gently reached out. “Her ankle… it’s swelling fast,” she murmured, brushing Krisha’s hair from her face.
Krisha winced, her voice trembling through clenched teeth. “It twisted. Badly. I… I can’t even move it.”
“Krisha, breathe,” Rihan said calmly, his tone softer than usual. He knelt beside her, his hand gently wiping the sweat from her forehead. “We’ll take you to the medical room, okay? You’re going to be fine.”
He looked up at Aditi, his eyes filled with concern. “Aditi didi, can you help me?”
Without hesitation, she nodded, and along with another senior, helped Rihan lift the injured girl carefully.
Krisha lay on the bed in the medical room, her foot wrapped securely in a cold compress. She winced every now and then, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Beside her sat Rihan, unusually quiet, his usually playful expression replaced with concern.
Aditi stood on the other side, gently rubbing Krisha’s hand. Her eyes were soft, filled with sympathy. “You’ll be okay, Krisha. Don’t worry, okay? we are so sorry this happened…”
But it wasn’t the pain in her foot that made Krisha look broken. It was something deeper something rooted in the dream that now seemed to be slipping away. Her voice trembled as she whispered, “Ab kya hoga didi?… Sab kuch kharab ho jayega ab…”
“Kuch kharab nahi hoga…” Aditi scolded her gently, brushing her hair aside. “You’ll be fine. Shhh… aise nahi bolte.”
Krisha took a breath, her lips trembling before she suddenly blurted, “Didi, please… I want you to take my place.”
Aditi froze. “What? Me?”
“You know the steps… you helped me in every rehearsal,” Krisha said, desperation leaking through her voice. “Everyone says your expressions match Radha’s energy… please, didi. Only you can do it justice.”
Before Aditi could even form a reply, Rihan jumped in with a teasing grin. “She’s right didi. And besides, main itne dinon se Radha ke saath rehearsal kar raha hoon… main baaki ka sikha doonga… baaki dance to kar hi leti ho aap theek thaak.” He smirked, trying to lighten the mood.
Aditi narrowed her eyes, lips twitching. “Oh hello, tujhse achha dance karti hu main.”
Krisha giggled, despite the pain. Even Rihan let out a laugh. “Fine, fine… lekin maan lo na. You’ll rock it.”
But Aditi turned serious again, her gaze falling on Krisha. “No, Krisha. I can’t. You’ve worked so hard. This performance is yours. I can’t take your credit like that.”
Krisha shook her head, eyes glistening with unshed emotion. “But I can’t even stand, didi… the performance will be ruined. You’re the only one who can carry it now. Don’t think of it as taking my credit…think of it as saving what I worked so hard for.”
Aditi sighed, torn between her morals and the pleading in Krisha’s voice. Her eyes darted toward the floor. “But who will replace my spot then?”
Just then, a voice came from the doorway. “I’ll do it.”
All three of them turned to see Priya standing there, her smile soft and reassuring. Behind her stood Shagun, her arms folded, nodding with silent encouragement.
“If Shagun and I both perform as gopis, the group will stay balanced,” Priya said. “Vaise bhi ghoomna hi to hai usme,” she added with a playful laugh.
Krisha’s eyes lit up instantly, the hope returning to her expression like sunshine after a storm.
“But what about your skit?” Aditi asked, worried.
“I’ll manage it, don’t worry,” Priya assured her with a confident nod.
Aditi still looked unsure, glancing between her friends then toward Rihan, who had now crossed his arms and was raising his eyebrows at her repeatedly in that same exaggerated teasing manner.
“Kya hai?” she scoffed at him, raising a brow.
Rihan grinned wide. “Batao na, ready ho ki nahi Radha banne ke liye?” he asked, continuing the eyebrow-raising, making everyone including Krisha burst into giggles.
Finally, with a reluctant smile tugging at her lips, Aditi turned to Krisha and softly said, “Okay… I’ll do it.”
Krisha exhaled shakily, her relief palpable. “Thank you… thank you, didi.”
Aditi smiled, her heart a little lighter now. But she didn’t let Rihan off the hook just yet.
“Aur tu… beta bach ke rahiyo,” she warned, mock-glaring at him. “Ek bhi galti kari na tune toh bohot bura maarungi tujhe main.”
Rihan clutched his chest like he’d been personally attacked. “He Bhagwaan! Krisha yaar kaha phasa diya tune!” he said dramatically, earning another round of laughter from everyone in the room. Even Krisha, in all her pain, couldn’t stop smiling.
Just then, the door to the medical room creaked open.
Ansh stepped in, slightly out of breath, his brows furrowed with concern. He had just wrapped up Independence Day program arrangements, which is scheduled tomorrow, when someone told him that there’d been an injury during the dance rehearsals. His heart had skipped a beat, his first thought was Aditi.
But what he saw now stopped him in his tracks.
There she was standing at Krisha’s bedside, laughing, teasing Rihan, her eyes crinkling with warmth. A wave of relief washed over his face, subtle but unmistakable. His shoulders relaxed, the tension in his jaw softened, and he blinked slowly, grounding himself in the comfort of that small, ordinary moment.
“Kya hua bhaiya?” Priya asked, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow playfully, already sensing why he had come running.
“Huh… kuch nahi,” Ansh replied too quickly, avoiding everyone’s eyes especially Aditi’s. “Vo… kisi ne bola tha ki someone got hurt during practice.”
Krisha, lying back against the pillow, let out a small laugh through the pain. “Ha bhaiya… I got hurt. It’s paining too much… Ma’am ne kuch bola apko kya?”
Ansh nodded, stepping closer. “Ha, she has informed your parents. They’ll be here in a few minutes. Tab tak you have to rest here.”
“Ohh, okay… thank you, bhaiya,” Krisha said softly, the respect and comfort in her tone genuine.
Ansh gave her a faint smile and a nod making his way out of the medical room feeling releived.
On the day of Independence Day celebration…
The tricolor fluttered proudly against the clear blue sky. Under a large canopy, rows of chairs had been neatly arranged, filled slowly by students, teachers, and guests. All around, the air buzzed with energy students in cultural outfits hurried across the field, managing last-minute cues, while teachers hustled around, trying to keep everything on schedule.
In the front row, under the shaded guest tent, Aditi, Priya, and Shagun sat side by side dressed in pristine white kurtis paired with tricolor sashes and neatly pinned badges. Their only duty that morning was to welcome the chief guest. And until then… wait.
“I swear… it’s too much boring here… mujhe neend aa rahi hai.”Aditi stifled a yawn, stretching her arms lazily.
“Exactly. At least jab tak chief guest nahi aa jaate tab tak gaane hi baja dete ye log.”Shagun nodded, resting her chin on her hand, eyes flicking toward the stage still being arranged.
“Aisa kar denge to inka bijli ka bill nahii badh jayega.”Priya scoffed, sarcasm dripping in her tone.
The three of them burst into light laughter, the monotony of the moment slightly broken.
Bored, Aditi began lazily scanning the ground in front of them. Students, mostly boys, passed by dressed as revolutionaries, freedom fighters, and national heroes. She smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Udhar dekh… us ladke ko.”
A boy walked past in a Bhagat Singh outfit moustache drawn crookedly and turban slightly off-center.
“4 out of 10… he could dress better,” Priya said instantly.
“3.5 from my side,” Shagun added with a shrug.
Aditi snorted. “2. He forgot to iron his kurta.”
Another senior passed by, wearing a Nehru jacket and walking like he was on a ramp.
“Hmm, 6?” Shagun guessed.
“Ew. -10. Too much perfume,” Aditi replied, crinkling her nose.
They continued their hilarious rating spree, unimpressed by one boy after another.”5. 3. 1. Negative 2,” Aditi kept muttering.
“Senior boys are such disappointments,” she sighed dramatically. “Saare hi kabadi lag rahe hai.”
And then… he walked in.
From the left side of the ground, Ansh emerged dressed sharply in his NCC uniform. The khakhi coloured made his skin glow under the sun, his belt fastened perfectly at his waist, boots polished to a mirror shine. The cap rested straight atop his head, completing the uniform’s striking look.
But he wasn’t even trying to show off. He had a clipboard in hand, sleeves rolled up just enough to show the veins on his forearms, his collar sitting neatly as he moved swiftly with two volunteers, giving instructions and adjusting something near the stage.
The moment Aditi saw him, everything around her blurred the students, the noise, the restless fluttering of flags… even her own breath.
Her eyes locked on him, utterly still. He looked calm. Sharp. In control. Completely unaware of the havoc he was unknowingly causing in the first row.
Her lips parted unconsciously.
“Infinity,” she whispered, almost like it escaped without thought.
“What?” Priya asked, leaning in.
“Huh?” Aditi blinked rapidly, snapping out of it.
Shagun caught on first. Her eyes widened, and then she burst into laughter. “Wait. Did she just give Ansh bhaiya an infinity score?!”
Aditi flushed instantly. “Wha-NO! Vo to mai bss-“
“Oh my god,” Priya gasped, laughing harder.”She did! Bhaii… -10 se direct infinity….!”
“Yeh toh cheating kari hai tune Aditi,” Shagun teased between giggles.
“You were giving minus scores to poor Nehru ji a minute ago!”
Aditi groaned, hiding her face in her palms. “Oh my god, please shut up-“
“Ab to maan jaa,” Priya smirked, still glancing toward Ansh.”Bhaiya main charm to hai, seedha infinity mil gya unhe… hmm.”
“Vo bass aise hi nikal gaya muh se!” Aditi mumbled from behind her hands, cheeks burning.
And just then as if fate had decided to rub it in Ansh turned from the stage for a moment, and his eyes landed directly on her.
Aditi’s heart skipped again. He gave a small, calm nod. A hint of a smile. Then turned back, continuing his work as if nothing happened.
Aditi slowly lowered her hands, still stunned.
“Infinity, huh?”Priya leaned closer with a wicked grin.
Aditi gave her a deadly glare and muttered,”Chup kar.”
(I’m really sorry for such comments…I fully respect all the freedom fighters from the core of my heart and I’m not trying to spread any hate for anyone through this scene…it’s just a work of fiction where they are giving scores to the boys of school not the character they are playing….still I apologise for any kind of inconvinience…)
After a while, everything was finally set. Decorations were in place, the audience had begun to settle, and the Independence Day program was moments away from starting. Under the soft shade of a nearby tree, Ansh stood sipping from a bottle of water, his NCC cap slightly tilted back. Beside him, Ruhaan stood casually, talking about nothing in particular — the kind of random pre-event chatter that filled in the silence before a big moment.
Just then, Priya came rushing toward them, slightly breathless, a folded sheet of paper in hand.
“Bhaiya, ye lo anchoring ke sequence mai thode changes hue hain…,” she said, handing the sheet over.
Ansh nodded, accepting it. “Hmm okk… I’ll check it out.”
But Ruhaan’s eyes sparkled with mischief the moment Priya arrived. A slow grin crept onto his face. “Waise Priya… aaj Ansh mast maal lag raha hai na?”
Priya didn’t miss a beat. She folded her arms dramatically and declared, “Aur nahii to kyaa… bhaiya hain hi mere total cocaine material!”
Ansh rolled his eyes with a half-shrug. “Kuch bhi…” he muttered, pretending to ignore them though his ears were very much tuned in.
But Priya wasn’t done. She leaned forward slightly, voice dropping in volume but not excitement. “Aapko pta h bhaiya aaj subha na ham ladhke check out kar rahe the ki kon kaisa bnn ke ata hai… aur pta hai… sabko kitne scores diye Aditi ne?”
Ruhaan perked up like a kid waiting for gossip. “Haa bata bata.”
Priya grinned, recounting it like it was the juiciest drama of the morning. “Whii… 2, 3, -10, -2… usual Aditi behaviour.”
Ruhaan laughed. “Aur isse kitne diye?” he asked, jerking his chin toward Ansh.
Though Ansh stood pretending to read the sequence paper, his neck tilted slightly subtly, but clearly listening.
Priya leaned in even closer now, lowering her voice to a teasing whisper near his ear. “Bhaiya ko… ahmm… ahmmm… usne bhaiya ko infinity score diya…”
Ansh froze, eyes widening for a split second. His hands dropped just slightly from the paper he was holding.
“Ohoo… uniform ka jaduuu chala hi diya Ansh ne…” Ruhaan whooped, grabbing Ansh by the shoulders and shaking him playfully.
Caught off guard, Ansh flushed, a deep, unmistakable red creeping across his cheeks. He instinctively buried his face in Ruhaan’s shoulder.
“Ohoo bhaiyaa… itna kya blush maar rhe ho…” Priya teased, laughing.
“Hayee mere laal tamatar,” Ruhaan added dramatically, drawing out a groan from Ansh, whose blush only deepened.
And just then the moment shattered.
“Ye kya kar rha hai?” came a voice from behind them.
All three jolted, turning to see Prateek standing there, eyebrows raised and clearly confused at the scene.
Ansh straightened immediately, trying to keep his cool. “Ku… kuch nahii bss aise hi…” he stammered, still clearly flustered.
“Haa aise hii bss maje le raha tha isse main,” Ruhaan added quickly, offering a sheepish smile.
But while the boys scrambled to cover up the situation, Priya’s smile vanished.
The second her eyes met Prateek’s, her heart dropped hard. The image of yesterday flashed in her mind like an uninvited reel, Prateek hugging Charu, her faking tears, his arms around her… and Priya, watching it all from a distance, heartbroken.
“M jaati hu mujhe kaam hai…” she said abruptly, her voice quiet, guarded.
Without another word, she turned and walked away, her steps quickening as she put distance between herself and him. But Prateek… he noticed. The shift in her face, her body language, the weight in her silence.
And it lingered in his eyes long after she disappeared from view.
The corridor outside the exam hall was buzzing with students discussing their answers, but Samaira barely noticed the noise. Her eyes lit up as she spotted Aman leaning casually against the wall, arms folded, looking down at his phone. A tired but genuine smile curved her lips as she walked over to him, her heart lifting at the unexpected sight of him waiting.
“Kya baat hai… aaj mere liye kaise ruk gaye tum?” she asked, half-teasing, half-curious, brushing her hair back as she stopped in front of him.
Aman slid his phone into his pocket, giving her a casual glance that tried hard to mask the real reason he’d waited.
“Aise hi… jaldi khatam ho gaya tha paper, to maine socha,” he replied, shrugging like it was no big deal but his eyes lingered on her a second too long.
Samaira, however, was too excited to notice the subtle tension behind his words.
“Ohhh… achha suno,” she began, her entire face lighting up with a kind of thrill that made Aman instantly wary.
“Hmm, bolo,” he said, straightening just slightly, the edge in his tone betraying a sudden shift in his mood.
She leaned in, eyes wide with drama. “Aaj na kasam se itna handsome ladka baitha tha na mere bagal mein… main kya hi bolu!” she gushed.
“Neeli neeli aankhein, perfect muscles, messy hairs, aur pata hai uski smile…” she clutched her chest with exaggerated flair, “hayeee.”
Aman’s expression stiffened. His jaw ticked as he looked away briefly. “Aisa bhi kya dekh liya usme?” he asked, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice.
But Samaira, oblivious to the storm brewing in him, went on breathlessly. “Are main bata rahi hu… bohot hi handsome tha vo… aur mere hi bagal mein baitha tha. Kya gora chitta banda tha vo.”
He opened his mouth to respond probably something sarcastic, something he’d regret saying out loud but before he could, a new voice interrupted them.
“Samaira?” A deep, melodic voice drifted from behind.
Both of them turned, only to see a boy walking toward them with quiet confidence. Tall, broad-shouldered, effortlessly charming just like Samaira had described. And his eyes those unmistakable blue eyes locked onto hers with an easy familiarity that made Aman’s stomach twist.
Samaira blinked, her words suddenly caught in her throat. “D…did you call me?” she stammered, genuinely startled.
The boy smiled, holding out a notebook. “Yeah… vo tum apni notebook bhool gayi thi class mein.” His tone was warm, polite but the way his gaze lingered was far from indifferent.
Samaira reached out to take it, still half-lost in the eye contact, when Aman stepped forward, that too-sweet smile plastered on his face.
“Thank you… we’re getting late,” he cut in swiftly, taking the notebook from Samaira’s hand and offering the guy a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Without another word, Aman grabbed her hand not gently, but firmly and started walking away, his grip laced with something far more intense than mere impatience.
Samaira turned back once, slightly dazed, while Aman stared ahead, jaw clenched
“Are… ye kya baat hui… theek se baat toh karne dete,” she complained, her tone faintly annoyed at Aman for cutting her moment short.
Aman didn’t even glance her way. His jaw was tight, fists in his pockets as he walked with controlled steps. “Kya baat karti tum usse?” he asked flatly, gaze fixed ahead, tone edged with something sharper than irritation.
Samaira huffed. “Kuch nahi, toh naam hi pooch leti… haye, kitna sweet tha vo,” she said, voice drifting into a dreamy sigh again just to get a rise out of him. And it worked.
Aman came to a stop, the restraint in him beginning to unravel. “He’s a playboy… stay away from him.” The warning wasn’t casual it was laced with quiet fury.
Samaira scoffed. “Kuch bhi…” she rolled her eyes, dismissing his concern entirely.
Aman turned slightly, eyes narrowing as he faced her. “Kuch bhi nahi. Yahi sach hai. Tum nahi jaanti isse, but he has literally dated half of the college girls.”
They started walking again, but Samaira’s teasing tone didn’t falter. “Huh… khud ne toh ek ko bhi date nahi kiya hoga, isliye dusron se jal rahe ho bas tum.”
That hit a nerve. Aman stopped again, this time more abruptly. The weight in his chest pressed harder.
“Aur main usse kyu jalunga bhala?” he asked, turning to face her, frustration flaring in his eyes.
“Because… tumhe kabhi kisi se pyaar hi nahi hua… toh tum kisi ko date kaise karoge?”Samaira stepped closer, challenging him now, her eyes holding a spark.
“Aur agar bol doon ki kiya hai toh?”Aman didn’t blink. His voice dropped to something dangerously low.
She stared at him almost startled. “Main nahi maanti.” And with a turn, she tried to walk away.
But in a heartbeat, Aman’s hand shot out, fingers curling gently but firmly around her wrist. Before she could react, he had pulled her back, her spine brushing the cold wall of the staircase landing. His other hand came up, bracing beside her head. Their faces were inches apart. The buzz of campus life faded into a distant hum.
“Then why don’t you just date me… I swear…you’ll forget him after that.”His voice was rough, raw, too intimate to ignore.
Samaira’s heart thudded violently in her chest, her breath catching.”Main… main… v…” she stammered, her voice faltering beneath the weight of his gaze.
Aman’s lips curled into a faint smirk, eyes dark with intensity. “Kyu… dar lagta hai?” His voice dropped even lower, teasing but laced with a silent challenge.
She swallowed. “Why would I date you… you don’t even like me in that way,” she said, trying to push back, trying to gather what little sense she had left.
Aman stepped back half an inch but his eyes never left hers. The teasing smile remained, just long enough to disarm her.
“Yeah, that’s true… I don’t like you…” His pause was deliberate, deadly.
And then, with the softest gravity that shattered everything she believed, he added”Because… I love you.”
_______________________________
That’s all for this chapter…hope you enjoyed it
agar kisi bhi scene main jaane anjaane main galti ho gyii ho to uske liye dill se maafi mangti hoon…chota bachha samajh ke maaf kar dena please.
and don’t forget to vote taaki samaira aur aman ka mamla aage badha sake hamm…also don’t forget to follow on instagrame for latest updates and chatpate se spoilers…
id- pixiee_wrts
till then…keep smiling and reading for sure.
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