𝗧𝘂𝗺 𝗛𝗶 𝗧𝘂𝗺 – [𝐀𝐧 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞] - 𝐂𝐇 - 𝟑𝟐 ༊˚

Array
(
[text] =>

हे दीवाना है देखो बेकरार वो
सँभालो-सँभालो ना प्यार हो
अपना बना के देखो दिल ना चुरा ले वो
ऐसा क्यूँ लगे है बोलो ना

_______________________

votes: 80+

comments: 70+

______________________

First of all…Thankyou so so so soooooooooo muchhhhhh for taking this story from 0 reads to 20.5K reads and that too along with 2k votes…I didn’t have imagined of this day but you guys have made it come true soo…here is the chapter 32 before vote target completion…i’m so grateful to you guys…thankyou once again…🙂‍↕️🧿

Second thing is…how do i tell you all ki kis duvidha main phass chuki hu main…its already 32nd chapter and initially i’ve thought to sum up the story in 40-50 chapters but halaat mere haath se nikalte dikhayi de rahe hainnn….itna sab kuch pakaya hua hai maine aage kaise bhaaru itne se chapters main😭…so….hehe the obvious thing😁….i’m gonna increse the chapter’s length. initially 1 chapter had 4k words but now it will be crossing 10k words.

soo….please padhne main kanjoosi na kariyega sath main boring lage to bhi bata dijiyega…i’ll make it more fun…🤗

to bina kisi deri ke jaha se choda tha wahi se shuru karte hain…

______________________

“Because… I love you.”

Aman’s voice was steady, but everything else inside him was trembling. His heart thundered like it was trying to escape, pounding in his ears with every breath. He searched Samaira’s face for any sign of shock, anger, happiness, something he could hold on to. But all she gave him… was silence.

And then, out of nowhere, she laughed.

Not a nervous chuckle or a faint smile, she laughed, fully, loudly, throwing her head back as if someone had just cracked the funniest joke in the world. Aman blinked, a deep frown forming on his face.

“Tum hass kyu rahi ho?” he asked, baffled. “Maine toh joke bhi nahi maara.”

“You… tum…hey bhagwaan,” Samaira managed between her fits of laughter, now clutching his shoulder for support.

“I’m serious, Samaira,” he said, the confusion shifting to frustration, his voice almost pleading.

“Okay, okay, fine,” she said, trying to steady herself but failing again as another laugh escaped. “You’re too cute, Aman.”

Aman raised an eyebrow, trying to make sense of what was happening, while Samaira finally brought herself under control, wiping the corners of her eyes.

“Okay… now I’m good,” she said, still giggling.

“Kya kaha tha tumne abhi?” she asked again, her tone playful now, but her eyes observant.

“I’m serious,” Aman repeated.

“About what?” she stepped in closer, enough to make him step back, involuntarily shrinking until his back hit the wall.

“Ab… about you,” he said, trying to steady his breath, voice lower now.

Samaira tilted her head slightly, teasing glint returning to her gaze. “And what if… main mana kar doon toh?”

“Then… I’ll not force you,” Aman replied, eyes holding sincerity despite the tension in his jaw.

“And what if…. main haan bolu toh?” she asked again, softly now.

Aman’s eyes softened. “Then I promise… I’ll never let you go away,” he said, the weight of truth laced into every word.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at him quietly, the teasing in her expression now melted into something gentler, more real. Taking a small step back, she folded her arms.

“Took you long enough though,” she said with a half-smile.

“Matlab?” he asked, confused.

“Yeh hi… kitna kuch chhupa ke rakhte ho apne andar. Bhala ho uss ladhke ka…kam se kam tumhare muh se sach toh sunne ko mila,” she said, looking at him knowingly.

“Matlab… you already knew?” Aman blinked in shock.

“Aur nahi toh kya? I’m smart, you know,” she said smugly, flipping her hair like she’d just been crowned Miss Universe.

“But… kaise?” he questioned

“You are way too good at gaurding your feeling ,” she said, grinning, “but your eyes? Way too bad at hiding them.”

He smiled shyly, nervous energy still in his chest. “So… do you feel the same?”

She looked at him, her voice softer now, sincere but still teasing. “Usually, I don’t feel anything for anyone. But… agar koi tumhari tarah ek tang pe khada ho jayega toh kaise manau apne dil ko?”

He let out a soft chuckle at that, the weight on his chest finally lifting.

“Thank you…” he whispered, the affection lacing his words unmistakable.

“Thank you-wankyou se kaam nahi chalega, Satue ji,” she quipped, arms crossing. “Nakhre uthane padenge mere tumko.”

“Tum bolo toh… tumko hi utha leta hoon,” Aman said, smirking, voice now matching her playful tone.

“Not bad, haan!” she laughed, the air around them growing warmer, easier, like it always should’ve been.

“Chalo, abhi bahut tez bhook lagi hai,” she announced dramatically. “Kuch khate hain.”

And just like that, with a casual arm around his shoulder and a completely unbothered smirk on her lips, Samaira walked with Aman as if claiming her place beside him was the most natural thing in the world. Aman, utterly whipped, only smiled and let her lead the way

The school ground stood in perfect discipline, not a soul out of line. The chill of the early morning air carried with it a sense of anticipation and pride.

Near the gate of the canopy, Aditi, Priya, and Shagun stood poised and graceful, the morning sun lighting up the quiet dignity on their faces. In their hands, they carried flower trays, their fingers curled delicately around them, their expressions calm but glowing with the weight of the moment.

Suddenly, a black SUV rolled into the driveway. Conversations paused. Heads turned. The back door opened.

And out stepped Commander General A. P. Dev, a towering figure dressed in a neat beige suit, his chest glinting with decades of medals and honour. His posture was rigid with grace, a spine straight as a blade, every step measured with a soldier’s pride. His eyes, sharp and commanding, scanned the students with quiet strength.

The girls stepped forward with practiced grace. Aditi moved first, her hands firm and reverent as she applied the tilak to his forehead. Priya stepped up next, showering petals over his head in a quiet cascade of colour. Shagun, eyes shining, offered him a bouquet wrapped in saffron, white, and green silk. (hamare school main aisa karwaya jata tha…idk whyyyi🥹)

“Welcome Sir…” they chorused, voices clear and full of respect.

The Commander nodded, a gentle smile on his lips. “Thankyou so much beta. Very proud of you all.”

With quiet reverence, he was escorted to the flagpost in the center of the ground, which stood tall among tricoloured balloons, swaying ribbons, and proud banners. And in the heart of it all stood the NCC troop, motionless as statues.

At their head stood Ansh.

The chilly sunlight caught the gleam of his uniform. Dressed in khaki, cap crisp on his head, boots polished, and the SUO batch gleaming sharply on his chest, Ansh looked like he had walked out of a parade ground itself. His presence wasn’t just sharp it was commanding.

Three rows of cadets stood behind him in flawless formation. Shoulders squared. Eyes straight. Each one reflecting the months of practice and discipline they had poured into this moment.

A beat of silence passed.The crowd seemed to hold its breath.And then…

“Company! Parade… Shuun!” Ansh’s voice cracked through the air like thunder, echoing across the school ground. It wasn’t just loud it was filled with authority. The murmurs in the crowd silenced instantly, replaced by an overwhelming air of anticipation. Ansh stepped forward.

“Savdhaan!” The cadets moved in perfect unison, snapping into attention with precise timing. Feet together. Backs straight. It was a movement rehearsed to perfection but executed now with spirit.

“Dahine Dekh!” Dozens of heads turned simultaneously to the right toward the Chief Guest. Not a moment late. Not a movement off.

“Salami Shastra!” Wooden rifles were raised. Hands lifted, angled sharply. The ceremonial NCC salute began a synchronised motion that radiated pride and training.

The audience couldn’t look away. Even the Commander General looked visibly impressed, his smile widening as he observed the perfection in each step.

Then, the moment approached. The flagpost tall and wrapped in the tricolour stood at the center as Ansh and the Commander stepped toward it. The school stood in reverent silence.

With a firm, practiced motion, Commander Dev pulled the rope. And in one smooth motion, the Indian tricolour unfurled, catching the morning breeze like a living symbol of freedom.

In that very instant, a hidden compartment released a shower of rose petals, which rained down over the flag and the saluting cadets like a blessing from the heavens.

The speakers cracked to life And the national anthem began.

“Company! Tein-Hut!” Ansh’s command echoed like a heartbeat through the ground.

Without hesitation, the cadets raised their salutes together, bodies perfectly aligned, hearts pounding with pride. Not a single arm trembled. Not a single breath faltered.

And in the front line, Ansh stood unmoving a pillar of discipline. Jaw clenched, eyes locked onto the flag, his hand held in a flawless salute. He looked not just like a student but like a soldier in the making.

From the front row, Aditi stood still. Silent. Captivated.Her breath caught in her throat. And suddenly, it wasn’t just Ansh standing there. It was a leader. A protector. A force of something so much bigger than the classroom version of him she was used to arguing with.

He looked like someone who could be trusted to carry the nation on his shoulders and still glance back to make sure his people were safe.

The celebration had finally begun in full swing. The flag hoisting and parade had stirred every heart with pride, and now, the crowd had moved into the auditorium for the cultural program. On stage, Ansh stood tall and composed, effortlessly anchoring the event.

It was something everyone expected of him his presence, his voice, his confidence it all blended into a seamless grace. He handled every announcement, every introduction with such poise that even the teachers often whispered how no one could ever do it better.

In the middle of the sea of students and faculty, the chaos gang sat together, half engaged in the program, half busy with their own mischief. But one person in that group was completely distracted…Aditi.

Her eyes hadn’t left the stage. Not because she was interested in the performances, but because of the boy anchoring them.

There was something about the way he held himself today… the leader in the parade was now the charmer on stage. Aditi couldn’t help but smile quietly to herself, unaware that someone was watching her drift into admiration.

“Vaise… kuch to baat hai Ansh bhaiya mein… nahi Aditi,” Shagun teased, her voice sing-song.

“Haaa,” Aditi replied absentmindedly, still staring, completely oblivious to what Shagun had even said.

Vivaan, quick to catch on, smirked. “Dekha… girr gayi na ye bhi bhaiya ke pyaar mein.”

That broke Aditi’s trance. Her eyes blinked rapidly as she processed the teasing, cheeks flushing with sudden awareness. “Huh… ky.. kya kaha tune?” she asked, trying to act innocent, as if she hadn’t heard them at all.

“Yhii kii… tera bhi kaam khatam hai,” Priya chimed in with a giggle, nudging her slightly.

“Chupp kar… kuch bhi bolti hai… tujhe jana nahi hai kya?” Aditi retorted quickly, pushing Priya lightly, trying to divert the attention off herself.

“Haan Priya tu yaha kya kar rahi hai, tujhe ready nahi hona skit ke liye?” Shagun suddenly asked, her brows scrunching.

The question landed like a jolt. For a split second, Priya’s expression faltered, her smile dimming. But just as fast, she masked it with a quick nod and forced cheer.

“Ohh… haa haa, main to bhool hi gayi thi… main jaati hoon,” she said hurriedly, getting up from her seat.

As she turned toward the backstage exit, her eyes dropped for a moment. She walked away quickly, her back straight, but her steps slightly heavy. No one noticed the small crack in her voice. No one saw the sadness clouding her expression.

No one except Aditi, who stared after her, a strange feeling twisting in her chest.

Backstage buzzed with movement students getting into costumes, last-minute props being handed out, volunteers rushing to coordinate the upcoming performances.

Priya walked with her eyes on the ground, trying to compose herself. The smile she had worn in front of her friends had long faded, and now it was just her and the ache that hadn’t left since yesterday.

Her steps were hurried, distracted. And then she bumped into someone, hard enough to almost stumble. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted, instinctively backing away, avoiding eye contact.

But the voice that answered made her freeze.

“Priya…” It was him. Prateek.

She looked up, startled, caught in the sudden silence between them. He looked just as surprised perhaps even more shaken than she expected. His expression was unreadable for a moment, but his eyes… they carried something heavy.

She turned to leave. She wasn’t ready for this. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But before she could take another step, his hand gently caught her wrist. Not forcefully just enough to stop her.

“Wait… please,” he said softly. “I need to tell you something.” he said softly.

Her breath caught. Her eyes dropped to the floor again. Every part of her wanted to run. She didn’t want to hear it didn’t want an explanation that might hurt more than the silence already did.

Prateek took a breath. His grip on her wrist tightened just slightly, as though afraid she’d slip away again. But before he could say anything more…

“Prateek!” charu’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

She walked toward them with a little too much bounce in her step, eyes darting from Priya’s wrist to his hand holding it, a knowing smirk barely hidden behind her “concern.”

“Teacher’s calling you… right now. It’s urgent,” she said, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. Her voice was laced with fake sweetness, but her eyes were fixed on Priya with something far less friendly. And in that second, something inside Priya broke just a little more.

“That must be important. You should go.”She slowly freed her hand from Prateek’s grasp. Her voice came out low, almost whisper soft but every word cut with control.

Prateek removed charu’s hand and turned toward her, the guilt already sinking in. “Priya, wait…”

But she had already turned away. Not with anger. Just silence. She didn’t cry. She didn’t flinch. But her footsteps as she walked away were the loudest heartbreak Prateek had ever heard. And this time, she didn’t look back.

The lights in the auditorium dimmed. A soft spotlight illuminated the stage as the curtains began to part slowly, revealing the setting of a heart-warming patriotic skit…an Independence Day special performance everyone had been eagerly waiting for.

In the audience, the gang sat together in the third row from the front, their faces lit with anticipation.

“Bas ab Priya aane wali hai!” Shagun whispered excitedly, bouncing slightly in her seat.

Vivaan nudged her. “And Prateek bhaiya too. Pehli baar they’re playing opposite each other… this is going to be good!”

Aditi smiled and chimed, “finally priya ko haq se bhabhi bol paungi aaj k liye”

The soft sound of the background score began, evoking emotions even before the dialogues started.

From the one end walked in the Prateek. Dressed as a young soldier on border duty, he looked focused, layered in quiet intensity as he delivered his first few lines. The audience held their breath.

Aditi, Priya, Shagun, and Vivaan leaned forward eagerly.But the very next moment…

A girl stepped out on stage opposite him. Wearing the same costume Priya was supposed to wear. Same role. Same lines. But it wasn’t Priya. It was Charu. The group froze.

“What the-” Vivaan’s eyes widened.

Shagun blinked. “Wait… that’s not Priya.”

Aditi’s heart skipped. “Why is Charu playing Priya’s role?!”

They all exchanged glances, concern quickly replacing excitement.

Vivaan sat up straighter. “She said she was going to get ready for the skit… she should be on stage right now!”

aditi turned to shagun. “Something’s wrong.”

Without another word, the three of them got up from their seats, pushing past the surprised audience members as they made their way quickly towards the backstage door.

They split paths, calling out for Priya softly, their footsteps echoing in the narrow backstage corridors. The confusion had now turned into a twist of worry in their stomachs.

And there sitting on a small bench, her head bowed and sash she was wearing in morning kept aside. She looked up at the sound of footsteps. Her eyes widened for a second before she composed herself quickly.

“Priya!” Shagun exhaled, rushing toward her. “What the hell?! Why aren’t you on stage?”

Aditi knelt beside her. “Charu is playing your part. Why didn’t you tell us something happened?”

Vivaan followed behind, his usual playful tone nowhere in sight. “We thought you were getting ready…”

Priya gave a small smile, weak and half-hearted. “I wasn’t feeling well… my throat’s acting up. I didn’t want to mess up the performance, so I told them to go ahead with a replacement.”

Aditi narrowed her eyes slightly. “But your voice sounds fine now.” Priya looked away.

Shagun sat beside her. “Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, of course.” Priya forced a nod. “Just didn’t want to risk it on stage, you know? The audience deserves better than me choking halfway through.”

Vivaan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, frowning. “You should’ve told us, Priya.kitne excieted the ham sab”

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” she replied softly, her fingers tugging at the edge of her dupatta.

There was silence. But none of them bought it not fully. Not with how quietly broken her eyes looked. Not with how quickly she looked away every time they tried to meet her gaze.

Aditi placed a hand gently over hers. “You don’t have to say it. But just know… we’re here.”

Priya nodded once again barely. And outside, the crowd clapped as the skit drew toward its end. But the real drama unseen and silent was already playing out behind the curtains.

And in the worried silence of her friends who knew… something had deeply hurt her, even if she didn’t want to say it.

The curtains had barely fallen when Prateek stepped down from the stage, eyes scanning the backstage area like a man with only one mission. He ignored the claps. Ignored the congratulations. His eyes weren’t looking for praise they were searching for Priya.

He checked the green room. Empty. Checked near the costume desk. Nothing. Then he heard a few giggles, voices faint but familiar. Turning towards the side exit of the auditorium, he saw them.

Aditi, Shagun, Vivaan… and Priya. She walked with them slowly, quietly but trying to look normal. Laughing at something Shagun said, though it didn’t reach her eyes.Her posture guarded.

And yet… even like that, she looked beautiful. Wounded, but beautiful. Prateek stood frozen in place. Half a step forward. Half a breath held.

His fingers curled into fists by his side. He wanted to run to her. To stop her. To explain everything everything.

To tell her that it wasn’t what it looked like. That his arms hadn’t meant to hold Charu, that his heart had always been hers even if he’d been too much of a coward to admit it before.

But now… after what she must’ve seen… after how broken she looked just this morning… He didn’t know how to start. What if she didn’t want to hear it anymore? What if he’d already lost the right? His throat felt tight.

He watched as she exited the auditorium door with her friends. Aditi lightly wrapped her arm around Priya’s shoulder protectively. Vivaan cracked some joke to ease the tension, and Shagun looked back once just once but didn’t notice him.

And Priya never turned around. Not even once. By the time he moved forward, they were gone. And a weight in his chest that felt heavier than ever. The hallway backstage fell awkwardly quiet after Priya walked away.

“You okay?” Charu asked, stepping closer, voice sweetened like syrup. “She looked pretty upset… was it something about yesterday?”

“Don’t.”Prateek’s gaze snapped to her sharp, cold.

Charu blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what you just did,” he said, his voice dropping lower, firmer. “You knew exactly when to step in. You chose that moment.”

Charu shifted uncomfortably, still trying to play innocent. “I just said the teacher was calling you…why are you getting so serious?”

“Because you’re not,” he snapped. “You’ve been doing this for weeks, trying to squeeze yourself into conversations that don’t involve you, manipulating moments, pretending to cry when things don’t go your way…”

He took a step forward. ” the day you misbehaved with Aditi I let it slide because she doesn’t wanted any drama but today… you crossed the line by involving Priya into you selfish plans…”

Charu’s smile faltered. “Are you seriously defending her now…she was the one who took her name away from this…i didn’t asked her to do so…”

“Defending?” His eyes burned now. “do you even have the idea of what all wrong you’ve done till now? i kept on pretending to ignore your tantics just because you’re papa’s friend’s daughter… And now I’m done pretending.”

“I was only trying to help-“

“keep your so called Help with yourself!… You’re the reason she walked away thinking I chose you,” he cut her off, voice rising slightly. “When all I’ve been trying to do is find the right moment to tell her the truth that it was never you, Charu. It was never going to be.”

Her face twisted part disbelief, part embarrassment, part rage. Students nearby glanced their way, whispering.

Charu’s lips parted like she wanted to throw another barb, but the heat of his words and the stares gathering around held her back.

He took a final step back and said, quieter this time, “If you really respected me… even a little, just stay away from from her…and this time take it as a warning.”

And without waiting for her response, he turned away. This time, he didn’t look back.

__________________________________

The Janmashtami celebration was just a day away. After the overwhelming success and chaos of Independence Day, Ansh had barely allowed himself to rest. Now that his NCC duties were over, he had thrown himself into managing the upcoming event with typical Ansh-like seriousness.

Sitting stiffly on a chair in the rehearsal hall, clipboard in hand, eyes skimming over checklists and program line-ups he looked every bit the responsible head boy he always was.

But his face told a different story. There was something different about him today. His usually composed expression was replaced by a quiet, sulking kind of frustration. His jaw was tight, and he barely blinked as his eyes kept darting toward the dance group across the room.

There Aditi was laughing at something Rihaan said, swatting his arm playfully like they’d been best friends for years. And Rihaan, the ever-chirpy junior, clearly enjoyed it deliberately missing steps now and then, just to get her attention. Every time Aditi scolded or corrected him, he grinned wider.

Ansh’s grip on his pen tightened. Just then, Ruhaan and Vivaan slid into the chairs on either side of him like synchronized drama twins.

“Aur bhaii…muh kyun sada rakha hai?” Ruhaan asked, nudging his shoulder with a teasing smirk.

“Kaha sada hua hai?” Ansh muttered, trying to compose himself again, as if he hadn’t just been glaring daggers at Rihaan thirty seconds ago.

“Let me guess…” Vivaan drawled, eyes glinting with mischief. “He’s jealous of Rihaan.”

Ansh scoffed, masking it with an unconvincing shrug. “Main usse kyun jalunga?”

Ruhaan leaned forward, voice low and mocking. “Because usse Aditi ke saath dance karne ko mil raha hai…aur tu yaha pe checklist bana raha hai.”

Ansh looked away. “Aisa nahi hai kuch bhi…”

Vivaan clapped his hands dramatically. “Theek hai phir, hame kya? Hamne toh socha tha ki Rihaan ki jagah aapko Aditi ke saath dance karva denge… par aapko to… chhodo.” He stood halfway up from his seat, pretending to take away the offer.

But the bait had been set and Ansh bit.

He immediately grabbed Vivaan’s arm and pulled him back down, his eyes lighting up for the first time in hours. “How would you do that?” His voice was low, eager. There was a flicker of undeniable hope in his gaze.

Ruhaan burst into laughter. “Dekh dekh dekh kaise jaag pada Romeo.”

“Shut up…and tell me kaise hataoge tum iss Rihaan ko?” Ansh asked again, now deadly serious.

But Vivaan, determined to milk this moment of power, crossed his arms. “Pehle admit karo ki aapko Aditi ke saath dance karna hai. Tabhi batayenge.” Ansh rolled his eyes and smacked him on the head.

“Ahhh! Mara kyuu?” Vivaan cried out, rubbing the spot dramatically.

“Tum dono muh khol rahe ho ya nahi?” Ansh glared, and the warning in his voice made both of them instantly huddle close like they were planning a national security breach.

Ruhaan whispered like a spy. “Achha sunn…” He created a makeshift canopy above their heads. “We’ll bribe him to be absent tomorrow ya phir usko kisi ladki ka number de denge and ask him to not appear for the performance.” He looked proud, like he’d solved global warming.

Ansh stared at him. Deadpan. “Aur koi bakwaas idea ho to woh bhi bol do tum dono.”

“Itna mast idea toh hai yrr bhaiya!” Vivaan chirped, eyes gleaming with fake excitement as he nudged Ruhaan, though both were clearly being sarcastic. Ansh, however, was done with their ridiculous suggestions he stood up,ready to leave them and their so-called plans behind.

But just as he turned to walk away, something seemed to click in his head. He paused mid-step.

Both Ruhaan and Vivaan were still laughing amongst themselves when Ansh turned back slowly, an almost evil glint in his eye and a rare, mischievous smile spreading on his face.

“What if… we lock him up into the washroom…aur thoda usse dara dein toh vo performance ke time pe nahi aa payega?” he said, voice hushed but excited, like he had just cracked the most brilliant conspiracy.

Ruhaan’s jaw literally dropped. “What the…” he muttered, blinking.

“Bhaiya are you serious?” Vivaan asked, his voice somewhere between a whisper and a scream, absolutely stunned.

“Yess… I’m hundred percent sure.” Ansh replied with full confidence, his eyes serious now, as if this was a military-level strategy.

Vivaan clutched his head dramatically. “Yeh mere bhaiya ka kya haal ho gaya!”

“Tera bhai poora Majnu ban gaya.” Ruhaan muttered, staring at Ansh like he was seeing a new man…a man completely derailed by the madness of love.

“Guys… I’m serious… yeh idea kaam kar jayega.” Ansh insisted, nodding as he tried to sell them his plan.

Ruhaan raised an eyebrow, putting his hands on his hips. “Achha aur vo washroom mein kya karne jayega? belly dance?!”

Ansh blinked, caught off guard. “Vo abhi socha nahi…” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck, his confidence faltering just a little.

“Ha toh khud hi kar lio… bhool ja mujhe. Main nahi dunga saath tera isme.” Ruhaan declared, dramatically turning around and walking away like a betrayed soldier.

“Main bhi…” Vivaan added, abandoning ship with a shake of his head.

“Aree par suno toh…” Ansh groaned, chasing after them like a little boy pleading with his older brothers, trailing them across the auditorium while still trying to convince them this ridiculous plan could actually work.

On the day of JANMASHTAMI celebration

The school buzzed with excitement beats echoing through the corridors, the fragrance of fresh flowers in the air. Students ran about in shiny dhotis and ghagras, laughter and energy crackling like electricity.

But away from the main stage, tucked near the back end of the auditorium just beyond the dressing room area, stood three fools on a rather dramatic mission two of them reluctantly dragged along by the ever-responsible head boy himself.

Ansh, still in his school uniform, had hidden his Krishna costume somewhere nearby. He looked every bit like Krishna… but his mind was scheming like Shakuni.

“Toh sab plan clear hai na?” he whispered like they were about to rob a bank.

Ruhaan, with the same disinterested expression he’d worn since yesterday, replied flatly, “Clear hai… tu washroom ke pass rehna, aur hum usse dressing room ke side bula lenge.”

“Aur Priya?” Ansh asked, eyes scanning the area.

Right on cue, Priya emerged from behind a pillar, adjusting her lehenga, her face a picture of confusion. “Mujhe kyun bulaya aap logon ne itni urgency mein?”

Vivaan, barely containing his laughter, said, “Tu bas ek kaam kar… koi song gaa de full horror tone mein… Bas… Rihaan ka kaam ho jayega.”

Priya blinked. “WHAT?”

“Usse darana hai aur washroom mein bhejna hai. Aur tujhse achhi Manjulika hame kahi milegi nahi,” Ruhaan added with a perfectly serious face.

Still baffled, Priya asked, “Par karna kyuu hai ye sab… performance hai uski toh hamare sath.”

“Kyunki tere is majnu bhai ko Rihaan ki jagah dance karna hai,” Ruhaan said, pointing at Ansh, who instantly turned red and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Whattttt?” Priya asked again, still not getting it, while both Ruhaan and Vivaan nodded with innocent expressions.

“Aur ye plan bhi tum dono mein se hi kisi ka hoga!” Priya added confidently, but both boys quickly shook their heads in denial.

“Toh phir…?” she narrowed her eyes.

They didn’t say a word just slowly raised their fingers to point at Ansh, who now hid his entire face in his palms, unwilling to meet her eyes.

“Ye main kya sunn rahi hu bhaiya?” she asked, stunned her jaw dropped.

Ansh peeked through his fingers and finally spoke, using the most pleading voice only Priya was used to. He joined his hands and whispered, “Please Priya… itna to kar hi sakti ho… vo Rihaan Aditi ke sath bilkul suit nahi karta… please… sirf ek baar.”

She stared at him for a long moment. The sincerity in his eyes softened her, and she let out a long sigh. “Theek hai… but aap promise karo achha dance karoge… Aditi ko bura na lage ki dance kharab kar diya apne,” she said firmly.

“Pakka promise.” Ansh grinned, the spark of hope lighting up his face in an instant.

Inside the dressing corridor, Rihaan stood in front of a mirror, combing his hair for the seventh time, humming to himself. “aaj to chaa jaunga…saari ladhkiya fida ho jayengii mujhpe”

That’s when Ruhaan entered with fake panic. “Rihaan bhai! Sound check ke liye bula rahe hain tujhe urgently! Side wali changing room ke pass… jaldi jaa!”

“Abhi?” Rihaan frowned. “aditi didi bhi gyii kya?”

“Haan haan sab wahi hain…” Ruhaan lied like a pro.

As soon as Rihaan stepped in the isolated corridor near the old washroom, the lights flickered slightly whose switch board Vivaan had tampered now. The hallway was silent.

“Ami je tomaaar… shudhu je tomaaar…” The eerie humming floated through the corridor.

“Ami je tomaaar…” Priya, hiding near the door, sang in perfect ghostly rhythm.

Rihaan froze. The mirror at the end of the corridor reflected flickering lights. A curtain moved.

“SHUDHUU JE TOMAARRRRRRRRRR!”

“AAAAAHHHHHH!” Rihaan screamed and darted into the nearest washroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Within seconds, Ansh and Vivaan jumped forward. Vivaan held the knob, while Ansh twisted the latch from outside and locked it. Ruhaan quickly placed a board “Under Repair – Use Other Washroom.”

Inside, Rihaan’s muffled voice echoed: “HELLO?! IS SOMEONE OUT THERE?! GHOST! BHOOT! HELP!”

The trio stood there in stunned silence for a second. And then Vivaan whispered, “agar ham phase to bhaiya ko pehele nikalwaunga school se”

Ansh just smiled. “nahii phasenge… main hoon na”

Ruhaan said in disbelief. “tu head boy wale avtaar main hi theek tha…ye majnu wala avtaar kisi din laga dega hamari buri tara se”

The final countdown had begun.

Janmashtami celebrations were just minutes away from unfolding on stage, and the backstage area had turned into a vibrant chaos of colour, sound, and nervous energy. Volunteers scrambled about, yelling out costume codes and running with last-minute props.

Makeup artists rushed between mirrors and kids, trying to fix uneven eyeliner or reattach fallen bindis. Teachers herded little Krishnas and Radhas into their places, scolding anyone who dared to wander off wearing a flute or feather out of place.

Inside one of the dressing rooms, only the girls were getting ready dressed in their lehengas and anarkalis, applying final touches of makeup, adjusting dupattas and handling jewellery to make sure every jhumka sparkled just right.

Suddenly, the door flung open and Ms. Verma, the strict and ever-dramatic dance coordinator, barged in like a mini storm.

“Where is Rihaan?! Performance is next to next and the boy hasn’t shown up!” she barked, her eyes scanning the room in frustration.

Everyone froze mid-motion.

Aditi, still fixing her eye makeup, blinked in shock draped in her half-done Radha look, her bangles scattered beside her, dupattas not fully pinned.
“Ma’am… he didn’t come yet? Ab kya karenge?” she asked, panic seeping into her voice as her eyes darted to Priya and Shagun.

“I’ve checked all dressing rooms and green rooms!” Ms. Verma threw her hands up in frustration. “Ugh! Irresponsible child…this is exactly why I hate juniors in key roles!”

And then… like the plot twist no one saw coming, Ansh stepped forward from the hallway behind hands casually behind his back, eyes calm, lips curled into the most innocent expression that had no business being on the face of the actual mastermind.

“Ma’am… if you don’t mind, may I help you with this?” he asked, almost too politely. The entire backstage fell silent.

Ms. Verma turned to Ansh, startled. “You? Ansh? You have other duties as a core committee head! And you’re already doing anchoring!”

From one corner, Priya quickly stepped in to sell the story, “he can help ma’am, bhaiya is free right now. Also, he’s seen our performance five-six times… I guess he’ll be able to perform at Rihaan’s place.”

Ansh offered a soft, humble smile.

“Yes, ma’am… I’ve already done my anchoring part during the performances, and Prateek will handle the rest now. I just don’t want the performance to get canceled. I’ll try to do my best.”

Ms. Verma hesitated, checking her watch again like it might magically give her another solution. “But you don’t know the steps!”

From beside Aditi, Shagun chimed in with perfect timing. “He can learn, ma’am. Aditi will teach him… just the main ones. Aur vaise bhi, he knows half of it…he had supervised us yesterday.”

The teacher looked at Aditi now, the final authority in the room. “Are you sure, Aditi? Will you be able to teach him quickly?”

Aditi swallowed a breath, her heart racing, but nodded slowly still hesitant but unwilling to let the performance collapse. “Yes…ma’am. I think he’ll manage.”

Ms. Verma gave a long, tired sigh. “Okay then! Go over the steps quickly. If he can match the rhythm, we’ll go ahead. We have no other option now.”

She turned and disappeared just as dramatically as she’d entered, off to scold some poor volunteer.

The moment her presence vanished, Aditi whipped her head toward Priya and Shagun, eyes wide with fire, silently asking what have you done?! before looking straight at Ansh who was now pretending to be too innocent as if he wasn’t the mastermind behind all this.

“Kya kya karna hoga mujhe?” Ansh asked, trying his best to look sincere, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement.

“Jyada nahin… bass thoda sa hi hai. Main batati hoon, chaliye.” Aditi replied, adjusting her half-pinned dupatta over her shoulder with a sigh, her voice soft yet strained.

Still not entirely ready, she picked up a small speaker from the table, and with a faint shake of her head half annoyed, half helpless she led Ansh to a quieter corner of the backstage

In the quietest corner of the backstage, away from the chaos, Aditi and Ansh stood beneath a soft, yellow light pooling from a single bulb above. The faint hum of the speaker played the instrumental again and again as Aditi patiently taught Ansh each step demonstrating the twirls, hand gestures, and pauses, correcting his posture, and repeating transitions until he got them just right.

And Ansh, who had never danced before in his life, followed her every word like an eager student. Not because he wanted to shine on stage. But because he couldn’t bear to see her disappointed because her happiness had become his world now.

After what felt like a whirlwind 30-minute crash course, Aditi finally stepped back, breathing slightly heavy, her face glowing with sweat and effort. She looked at him, stunned at how quickly he’d grasped everything how perfectly he’d matched her rhythm.

“Finally… now it’s perfect,” she said, eyes lighting up, a soft, surprised smile gracing her lips.

“Thank you,” Ansh replied gently, his gaze lingering on her glowing face, like he didn’t want to blink and miss a second of it.

Aditi cocked her head curiously. “Aapne isse pehle kabhi dance kiya hai?”

He shook his head, almost boyishly. “Nahi… it’s the first time.”

Her jaw dropped. “Hey Kanha… toh aapne ma’am ko kyun bola ki aap kar lenge?” she asked, stunned, eyes narrowing.

Ansh gave a soft chuckle and looked away for a second before meeting her gaze again. “Vo… you were upset a moment ago when Rihaan got missing… Main nahii chahta tha tumhara performance kharaab ho… so I did it.”

The words weren’t grand or poetic but the way he said them, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, made her heart stutter. He meant every word.

She blinked rapidly, trying to stop the flutter in her chest. “Aur agar stage pe aap step bhool gaye to kya karenge hum…?” she asked, worried once again.

Ansh tilted his head, a calm smile tugging at his lips. “Tum ho na… sab sambhaal logi. Aur itni tension mat lo. Sab achha hoga.”

Her brows pulled together. “Aur agar nahi sambhaal payi toh…?”

He didn’t even pause. “Toh chod dena… main sambhaal lunga tumhare liye phir se.”

There was something unshakable in his tone like a silent promise. A strength that wrapped around her, making her feel safe and seen.

She stared at him, truly stared. The way his hair slightly curled over his forehead, the soft crease between his brows, the honesty resting in his dark eyes.

“Aap… sach mein Ansh hi hain na? Jinhe main jaanti hoon…?”Then softly, like a thought slipping past her lips

“Tumhe kya lagta hoon…?”He leaned in ever so slightly, voice low and sure. Her breath caught.

“Jaise… aap sach mein mere Kanha ho…” The words spilled out unplanned, unfiltered. She hadn’t meant to say it. But something about the way he looked at her made everything else disappear.

Ansh smiled faintly. And then he said it “Toh bann jao meri Radhe.”

No mischief in his voice. No teasing grin. Just a quiet devotion in his eyes that held a weight far beyond his age. It wasn’t a line. It wasn’t performance.

It was feeling.They didn’t move.Didn’t blink.Just stood there, locked in each other’s gaze like the universe had paused around them. But that stillness didn’t last.

“Nahi ban sakti…” Aditi whispered, her voice cracking slightly as she broke the gaze and looked away. The hurt in her tone didn’t go unnoticed. It wasn’t anger. It was fear. A quiet wall she’d built between what she felt and what she believed she deserved.

Ansh opened his mouth, ready to speak, to say something anything to stop her from slipping away from that moment.But before he could say anything someone interrupted.

“Oyee… costume aa gaya hai! Chal, jaldi ready ho ja…” Ruhaan’s voice echoed through the corridor, loud and carefree, shattering the silence between them like a stone on glass.

Aditi looked up at Ansh one last time, her eyes soft but guarded before turning away, leaving him standing there.

And for a moment… Ansh stood still staring at the empty space she had just left behind, heart echoing with words she might never say again, and words he hadn’t yet dared to say.

The green room buzzed with last-minute chaos. Costumes rustled, makeup kits lay open on chairs, and the air was thick with nerves and excitement.

Shagun stood in one corner, frowning deeply as she battled with an intricate choker necklace in her hands. Her fingers trembled slightly, fumbling with the delicate clasp as she muttered under her breath, “Pata nahi dono ki dono kaha marr gayi…”

” ye lag kyu nahi raha…” Her voice was laced with frustration, clearly blaming Priya and Aditi for vanishing at the worst possible time.

Just then, a cheerful voice rang out behind her, casual and unbothered. “Hi,” came the simple greeting.

Startled, Shagun let out a small yelp, “Ahh!” She turned abruptly, a hand flying to her chest. Standing behind her with that infuriatingly smug grin was Ruhaan, clearly enjoying the chaos that surrounded her.

She scowled, already in a bad mood. “Tum pagal ho kya? Har baari dara dete ho… aaram se nahi aa sakte kya?”

Ruhaan raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Chill yrrr… sorry… par tumhe darane mein maza bohot aata hai.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned her back on him again and returned to struggling with the choker. “So funny,” she muttered sarcastically, still fumbling.

Watching her for a second, Ruhaan offered, softer this time, “Main kar doon?”

She hesitated, briefly meeting his gaze before murmuring, “Nahi, main kar lungi.”

But Ruhaan had already stepped closer, sensing her stubbornness but not backing down. “Badi ziddi ho tum… lao do mujhe,” he said as he gently took the necklace from her hands before she could stop him.

“Main… kar-” she began, but he interrupted her without even glancing her way, focused on the task in hand.

“Apne baal aage karo,” he said, his eyes meeting hers through the mirror calm, assured.

For a second, Shagun didn’t move. Then, wordlessly, she obeyed, gathering her hair to one side and letting it fall over her shoulder, exposing the soft curve of her neck.

Ruhaan stepped in gently behind her, his hands careful as he fastened the choker around her neck. His touch was light almost reverent and for a moment, the noise of the green room faded into silence. Shagun, too, had stilled, her gaze drifting to his reflection in the mirror. Her breath slowed. Something flickered in her chest something fragile and unfamiliar.

Just as he secured the final clasp, Ruhaan’s eyes narrowed. A fresh scar on her shoulder had caught his attention.

“Ye chot tumhe kaise lagi?” he asked, genuine concern replacing his usual mischief.

Shagun followed his gaze and frowned. She went back into the moment when she got that scare last night. Her face went still as she replied quietly, “Pata nahi… lag gayi hogi… yaad nahi.”

Ruhaan clearly didn’t believe her. “Kamaal hai… tumhe chot bhi lag jaati hai aur pata bhi nahi chalta,” he murmured, still watching her closely.

But Shagun stepped away, her tone turning cold as she began fussing with her bangles. “Thank you for the help… ab tum jao yaha se.”

Ruhaan, unfazed, folded his arms and leaned against the nearby table. “Tum yaha ho toh main kahi aur kyun jaun?” he asked coolly.

She narrowed her eyes. “Kyun… tumhara match cancel ho gaya kya?”

“Nahi… cancel kyun hoga?” he replied, clearly amused.

“Haan toh jao na. Practice nahi karni?” she snapped, her irritation resurfacing.

Ruhaan smirked, “Tumhe kyun chinta ho rahi hai mere match ki… tumko toh accha bhi nahi lagta football.”

She scoffed and folded her arms. “Haan nahi accha lagta, par aisi harkatein rahi na toh haaroge tum match mein.”

That made Ruhaan raise an eyebrow. He took a slow step toward her, mischief lighting up his eyes. “Achha ji… aur agar jeet gaya toh?”

Shagun didn’t flinch. “Impossible.”

The challenge in her voice only amused him further. He leaned in slightly, his tone turning quieter more intense. “What if I win… what you’ll do then?”

There was a flicker of something unreadable in Shagun’s eyes, but she didn’t back down. “Fine… agar jeete toh i’ll do whatever you say.” Her voice was steady, unshaken.

Ruhaan’s smile deepened. “Soch lo… jo main bolunga vo karna padega.”

“Done.” She smirked, then added slyly, “But if you lose… rakhi bandhwani padegi mujhse”

That caught him off-guard. For a heartbeat, he stared at her, stunned by her boldness. And then, without thinking it through, he agreed anyway.

“Done.” His voice held confidence maybe even carelessness,blind to the consequence that he had just accepted a dare that would either win him her heart… or tie it up in siblinghood.

Backing away toward the door, he flashed one last grin. “Ready rehna harne ke liye,” he said, and with that, he disappeared out of the green room.

Shagun stared at the doorway for a long second, her fingers still frozen on her bangles. Her heart beat just a little faster not because of the bet, but because in those quiet seconds with his fingers around her neck and his voice so close to her ear, something had shifted. Something real. Something she wasn’t quite ready to say aloud yet

____________________________

The music from the previous performance echoed faintly behind the black curtain, but behind it under the shadows of flickering orange backstage bulbs time seemed to slow.

Aditi stood silently, fingers nervously fidgeting with the tassels of her lehenga.

Her outfit was nothing short of divine a rich pink-violet floral lehenga, its border woven with delicate gold embroidery. Draped over her shoulder was a vibrant yellow dupatta, Another navy blue dupatta hugged her waist, flowing behind like a trail of midnight sky. Her jewelry shimmered subtly, floral gold earrings, delicate bangles, and a fine maang tikka resting over her forehead. Her hair, tied in a neatly side-swept braid, was interlaced with pearls and small white flowers.

She looked ethereal. Like Radha herself had stepped out of a painting. But her breath was shallow. Her heart, unsettled.

“Nervous?” came a voice, deep and warm. Aditi turned.And there he stood.Ansh.

Draped in a rich golden-yellow dhoti, his look was regal majestic even. His bare torso carried the light with grace, only slightly covered with a thin, golden-yellow fabric crossing diagonally over his shoulder. His armbands glinted, and around his neck hung layered beads.

(koii aditi ke bande ko nahii tadega🙌)

But the final touch the one that made him look like Krishna himself was the magnificent crown on his head, adorned with peacock feathers that shimmered softly under the lights.

He wasn’t just playing a character. He was Krishna today. And somehow… that calmed her heart a little.

“Maybe just a little,” Aditi whispered, unable to meet his eyes. Ansh stepped closer. The crowd’s cheers echoed in the distance, but his gaze was only on her.

“You’ll be perfect, Aditi. You always are.” She looked up, finally meeting his eyes.

He reached out, gently taking her hand in his.His fingers curled over hers, grounding her. Steady. Warm.Aditi blinked, startled by the sudden contact.But she didn’t let go.

“I’m not just doing this performance for the sake of celebration, you know,” he said quietly, “I’m doing it because… I wanted to be the one next to you. always” Her breath caught.

But before she could say anything, the backstage volunteer called out “Radha-Krishna performance…ready?”

_____________________________________

The auditorium had turned pin-drop silent. Not a whisper, not a breath only the soft hum of the flute playing behind the velvet curtain.

The music began. (I prefer you all to please listen to Radha Gori Gori song while reading their performance…it will really give you the perfect imagening visuals.)

कर के इशारों बुलाए गई रे
कर के इशारों बुलाए गई रे
बरसाने की छोरी राधा गोरी गोरी
बरसाने की छोरी राधा गोरी गोरी…

Curtains parted. A swirl of colours burst onto the stage.

Girls dressed as gopis, in vibrant lehengas of pink, green, blue and orange, danced in synchrony circling the stage, Their delicate movements drew the audience in, as they moved rhythmically with graceful hand gestures, hiding the centre of the stage.

The gopis danced with playful energy each movement a tease, a call, a whisper of Radha’s invitation to Krishna. As the next beat struck, the gopis parted. And in the center Radha and Krishna were revealed. A gasp echoed through the audience.

Aditi stood poised as Radha eyes lowered, hands gracefully folded, the folds of her violet-pink lehenga shimmering under the golden spotlight. Her side-braid gleamed with pearls and her dupattas flowed like divine silk. She looked no less than a vision from a dream.

Ansh, beside her, stood as Krishna. Tall, composed, eyes calm yet mischief laced into his posture. His crown shimmered, and the peacock feathers swayed slightly as he tilted his head just enough playing the part with natural ease. the yellow fabric draped over his shoulder added that mythical charm.

जो कन्हा मेरो गाम ना जाने
जो कन्हा मेरो गाम ना जाने…2

ऊँचो बरकसणो बताये गई रे
ऊँचो बरकसणो बताये गई रे कौन?…2

बरसाने की छोरी राधा गोरी गोरी…4

As the line repeated, Aditi turned her back on Ansh, folding her arms with mock anger her expression playfully annoyed, her chin lifted like Radha scolding Krishna.

Ansh, completely in character, took a slow, apologetic step forward his hands folded, pretending to beg for forgiveness. But the twinkle in his eyes said otherwise. The audience chuckled.

Aditi twirled to the other side only to find empty space and when she turned back, Ansh was already standing with his arms wide, a smug smile on his face.

She stepped forward and lightly pushed his chest, and he took a dramatic step back as if wounded by her rejection only to shoot her a teasing smile again.

Their movements flowed with effortless charm playful twirls, side-glances, soft nudges. Aditi flicked her dupatta at him, which brushed his cheek, and he exaggeratedly acted like it had hit him.

जो कन्हा मेरो नाम ना जाने
जो कन्हा मेरो नाम ना जाने…2

The music took a teasing turn and so did Radha.

Aditi, with a regal sway of her lehenga, walked away from Krishna and sat gracefully amidst the circle of gopis Priya on one side, Shagun on the other, both grinning as they played along. The other gopis huddled around, forming a perfect semi-circle like Radha’s court of confidants.

She crossed her arms again, chin lifted, eyebrows arched in dramatic indignation as if saying, “He doesn’t even know my name!” Her lips pouted ever so slightly, eyes narrowing toward Krishna standing alone in the middle of the stage.

Ansh, slipping fully into Krishna’s mischievous skin, scratched his head with exaggerated confusion. He looked left, then right, then back at the gopis, shrugging innocently, as if genuinely puzzled.

राधा रंगीली बताई गई रे
राधा रंगीली बताई गई रे
बरसाने की छोरी राधा गोरी गोरी
बरसाने की छोरी राधा गोरी गोरी…

Aditi swirled forward with elegance, her lehenga blooming around her like a radiant lotus. Her eyes shimmered with playful challenge as she moved closer to him. In one swift, graceful motion, she reached for the flute tucked near his shoulder and snatched it with a victorious smirk.

The audience gasped delighted.

Ansh blinked as if caught off-guard, then instantly followed behind her, hands outstretched like a child whose toy had been stolen. But it was no ordinary chase. Aditi walked in slow circles, confidently, letting her dupattas trail behind like a queen parading her conquest Krishna following in surrender, his smile widening with every step.

She turned sharply, he almost bumped into her. With the flute now in her hand, Aditi pointed it straight at his chest, her eyes gleaming with mock authority. The moment stilled.

Ansh looked down at the flute against his heart, then up at her completely and utterly whipped. A stupidly soft smile bloomed on his face as if saying, “Mark me. I’m already yours.”

सब सखियों में श्यामा जो प्यारी
सब सखियों में राधा जो प्यारी
सब सखियों में श्यामा जो प्यारी
सब सखियों में राधा जो प्यारी…

As the soulful lyrics filled the auditorium, the stage transformed into Vrindavan itself.

Aditi, graceful, radiant, twirled like a petal caught in the wind, her lehenga shimmering under the lights. Her every move was a celebration of Radha’s beauty, her pride, her undeniable charm. Around her, the gopis moved in perfect rhythm, their colourful ghagras creating a kaleidoscope of motion that encircled her like adoring stars around a moon.

Ansh joined her seamlessly his steps mirroring hers, yet letting her take the center of attention. He didn’t lead, he followed. Not out of hesitation, but out of respect.

Their steps matched spins, turns, hand gestures so perfectly synced it looked like poetry written in movement. Every time their eyes met during a spin, the air crackled with a silent dialogue playful, proud, and inexplicably soft.

Together, they became the essence of the line. Among all the sakhis, Radha was the most beloved and so was she today.

मोहन के मन को लुभाए गई रे
मोहन के मन को लुभाए गई रे
बरसाने की छोरी राधा गोरी गोरी
बरसाने की छोरी राधा गोरी गोरी…

As these lines melted into the air, the lights softened focusing on Aditi who had gracefully paused at center stage. Her eyes remained lowered, her hands folded close to her chest, as if embodying Radha’s coy stillness.

Ansh began circling her slowly each step deliberate, gentle, his gaze never leaving her. His lips moved in sync with the lyrics, softly mouthing the words “Mohan ke mann ko lubhaye gayi re…” as if the song was not just music, but a confession.

A slow smile tugged at his lips, eyes filled with something that made the air still. In that moment it wasn’t Krishna adoring Radha. It was Ansh… completely lost in her.

He reached her front and stopped, hesitating only for a second before gently lifting her chin with his fingers urging her to look at him.

And just then Priya stepped in from one side, her voice low and teasing as she sang under her breath, “Mohan ke mann ko lubhaye gayi re…” giving Ansh a knowing smirk.

From the other side came Shagun, equally mischievous, echoing the same line with a playful sparkle in her eyes, nudging Aditi slightly as if caught red-handed in a love story.

Aditi’s cheeks flushed as she quickly turned her face away, trying to hide the blooming smile. Her fingers clutched her dupatta tighter, the bashfulness in her eyes so real it made the moment divine.

Ansh, caught in the middle of their teasing, rubbed the back of his neck, grinning like a boy who’d been caught staring a bit too long eyes flicking up to the ceiling as if pretending none of it just happened.

करके इशारों बुलाए गई रे
करके इशारों बुलाए गई रे
कौन? बरसाने की छोरी राधा गोरी गोरी
बरसाने की छोरी राधा गोरी गोरी…

As the final lines began to weave through the auditorium, the stage burst into coordinated life once more.

All the gopis returned to the frame, skirts swirling like a monsoon of colors. The group dance unfolded in perfect synchrony each step echoing joy, celebration, and divine mischief. Laughter sparkled in the performers’ expressions, the choreography now loose and playful, brimming with the warmth of the festivity.

In the very center, under the golden spotlight Ansh and Aditi danced, mirroring each other with quiet elegance. Aditi’s hand rested gently on Ansh’s shoulder, her other hand delicately locked into his.

His right arm hovered just behind her back, never touching, careful, respectful, protective, as if even in character, he didn’t want to overstep a line she hadn’t drawn.

But his eyes? Locked into hers, unblinking. And in that moment, nothing else existed.

They twirled softly, the music rising to its end. Ansh matched her every beat not as Krishna and Radha, not even as Ansh and Aditi but something else entirely… something unspoken.

As the final beat struck, Aditi spun gracefully, lehenga flaring like a blooming flower… and fell effortlessly into Ansh’s arms. He caught her.

Thunderous applause echoed through the auditorium as the final beat faded, the lights dimmed, and the performers took their bows. Teachers clapped, students cheered, and the audience stood up in a standing ovation that sent a ripple of pride through every soul on that stage.

Backstage was no longer chaotic it was bursting with joy. The gopis twirled off the stage laughing, Priya and Shagun clapped each other’s backs, and the volunteers high-fived like they’d just won a championship.

Aditi stepped off the stage, still slightly breathless, her cheeks flushed, but her eyes sparkled with fulfilment. The lehenga swayed with her steps as she walked, and just as she reached the water table, a familiar presence brushed beside her.

Ansh. Still in costume, his peacock feather slightly askew from the final twirl, he leaned in just close enough, his voice barely above a whisper intimate and proud.

“Dekha… sab sambhaal liya na hamne milkar…”

Aditi turned to look at him, her eyes reflecting the same emotion he carried in his voice-a shared victory. She gave a soft nod, smiling wide, unable to hide the happiness blooming in her chest.

Before either could say another word.

“GUYS! The school is haunted!!” A loud, panicked voice interrupted them. Heads turned.

It was Rihaan. His face pale, eyes wide, costume slightly crumpled like he’d been through war…

“kaha tha tu? kab se ham tujhe dhoond rhe the.” aditi asked in pure rage scolding him

“There’s a ghost didi! I swear! I heard someone singing inside the washroom!! lights were flickering, and a shadow followed me…and the door shut on its own! I think the school is haunted!!” he said ignoring her fearfully.

A beat of stunned silence. Aditi’s expression morphed from sweet Radha to pure rage incarnate.She stormed toward Rihaan, lifting the heavy skirt of her lehenga slightly with one hand.

“Main utarti hoon tera bhoot abhii!!” Poor Rihaan didn’t even get time to process before Aditi smacked him chasing him in small angry circles around the dressing area as everyone burst into laughter.

didi main sach bol raha hooon” he cried.

“Tujhe bhoot dikh rahe the vo bhi din dihaade?! Performance ke time pe gaayab hota hai koi?!”

Meanwhile, on the side…

Ruhaan, Ansh, Vivaan, and Priya stood in a line hands behind their backs, straight-faced, trying very hard not to laugh too loudly.

Ansh cleared his throat, looking up at the ceiling like it had never been his idea. Vivaan nodded innocently, eyes wide like a five-year-old. Priya bit her lip to suppress a giggle, nudging Ruhaan. And Ruhaan? He just smirked like the devil himself

And at the center of it, Ansh looked at Aditi his Radha smiling to himself, knowing this day… this moment… was going to stay with him forever.

The corridors of the school were eerily quiet now.

The buzz of the Janmashtami celebration had faded costumes were folded, makeup wiped, and applause had long died into memory. The corridors, once filled with laughter and movement, now stood still, holding whispers of joy just passed.

Priya stepped out of the washroom, her heavy lehenga still brushing softly against the floor, the sound barely louder than her own heartbeat. Her jhumkas swayed gently with each step, and her hands clutched her dupatta, worn more like armour than attire. She hadn’t changed yet.

She turned the corner of the corridor lost in her own storm of thoughts when a hand suddenly pulled her inside an empty classroom.

The door clicked shut behind her. Startled, she gasped and turned to see the one face she wasn’t ready to see. Prateek.

His eyes held sleepless guilt, his jaw was clenched, and the air around him carried a weight one that had settled heavily over both of them. And yet, beneath it all, there was still something so achingly familiar in his gaze… something that hurt to look at.

She instinctively stepped back.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice guarded, holding back a thousand things she wanted to scream and a million she wanted to cry.

“I needed to talk to you,” he said, desperation lacing every word. “Just… listen to me once, Priya. Please.”

But Priya’s eyes dulled with exhaustion not physical, but emotional. The kind that came from hoping too much.

“You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be doing this. Your girlfriend won’t like it.”

Those words hit him like a blow to the chest. He stared at her, stunned, the truth in his heart colliding with the lie in her voice.

__________________________________________

that’s all for this chapter…hope you enjoyed it.💖🤗

i’m sorry if there is any kind of mistake that might have happened during the NCC part and ansh’s commands as i’ve got an honour to witness NCC parade when i was in school but vo log kya commands dete the mujhe aaj tak samajh nahii aa payi so i’ve taken the help of google…agar galti ho gyii ho to please correct me…

till then…don’t forget to vote…ab dating ka sisila suru hone jaa raha hai sabka.

also apna favorite part bhi batana…byeeeeeee 🫶🏻👀

follow to karne ke liye bol nahii sakti….(aap khud hi kar denge….karoge na??🤗)

[text_hash] => 97bb7c2b
)