In Mumbai

The girl lay on the bed, her thoughts swirling in confusion. Her mind, a storm of emotions, struggled to make sense of the situation. Suddenly, without warning, a wave of anger washed over her. In one swift motion, she sat up, grabbed the pillow, and hurled it across the room, her voice rising in fury.

"Why is this happening? What is wrong with people?" she shouted, her frustration burning bright. "The person in front of you calls you a friend, gives you importance, and yet they're’re playing with your feelings? That witch Shreya… I considered her a good friend, always helped her, and now she's toying with my emotions!"

She stared up at the ceiling, her hands trembling with a mix of rage and helplessness. "God, why do you send such people into my life?"

Just then, her elder sister walked into the room, sensing the tension in the air. She frowned, noticing the anger in her sister's eyes. "What’s going on? Why are you so worked up?" she asked, concern lacing her tone.

The girl quickly wiped her face, turning to her sister with a forced smile, trying to hide her true emotions. "Nothing, just... nothing happened," she lied, turning her face away to avoid her sister’s questioning gaze.

She comes and stands in front of her and says, “That’s why your face looks so down.”

Still avoiding her sister’s gaze, she replies, “Nothing, yaar, di… nothing happened.”

Her sister asks again, more firmly this time, “Tell me, what’s wrong?”

She lies again, forcing a casual shrug, “Yaar, what do I even say? Look, I don’t have a single dress to wear and there’s this party tonight. Now what am I supposed to do?”

Her sister bursts into laughter and says, “Bhai, if we had two more like you in this house, our family would’ve been completely doomed!”

She throws her hands in the air dramatically, “That’s exactly why I didn’t want to say anything! You people always make fun of me.”

Her elder sister smirks and says, “What to do, yaar… you take every little thing so seriously and ruin your own face over it.”

She makes a teary face and says, “Haan haan, I am weird. What can I do, I’m just like this.”

Her elder sister walks up to her, sits beside her, and gently says, “You’re not weird… you’re different. And not everyone gets to feel what you feel. You have a pure heart… and clean intentions.”

She looks at her sister with wide, tear-filled eyes and asks softly, “Then why does everyone play with my heart and just leave?”

Her sister’s tone changes—sharper now, protective. “Aha! Now we’re getting somewhere. Finally the truth comes out. Tell me—what happened? Who did what?”

She cries as she starts to explain, “You know my friend Shreya, right? Do you know what she did?”

Her sister asks gently, “What did she do? Tell me.”

She continues, voice trembling, “She gave my Instagram account to a guy and told me he wanted to be friends. I believed her… I started talking to him as a friend. But after a few days, he started flirting with me. He said he loved me. I didn’t fall for his words, I kept my distance. But you know what the worst part is?”

Her sister listens silently, her expression darkening.

She goes on, “He was saying the same things to another friend of mine… and it was all part of their plan. Shreya told him—‘choose whichever girl you like, she’s yours.’ What does that even mean? Am I some object to be traded like that? I saw their chats myself. She shared every secret of mine with him… all the things I told her in confidence, she turned them into jokes. Tell me, who does that? I called her my friend—and to her, I was just a thing.”

Her sister gently wipes her tears and says softly, “Don’t cry. That girl’s a fool if she couldn’t see your worth.”

But she breaks down again, voice cracking, “But why does this always happen to me? Why me? I trust people blindly, I treat them like real friends, do everything I can for them… and still, they end up doing this to me.”

Her elder sister pulls her close, resting her head in her lap and gently stroking her hair. “Because not everyone deserves you,” she whispers. “You’re too rare for people who only see faces, not hearts.”

She keeps soothing her, quietly, tenderly, until her sobs soften and her breathing steadies. A few minutes later, her eyes slowly close, and she drifts into a deep, exhausted sleep in the safety of her sister’s lap.

In the evening, as her eyes slowly flutter open, a soft golden hue from the setting sun spills into the room. She notices a neatly wrapped gift resting beside her on the bed. Curious, she sits up and gently unties the ribbon.

As soon as she opens the box, her eyes light up — inside lies a beautiful black short dress adorned with delicate white floral designs. A surprised smile spreads across her face.

Without wasting a moment, she slips out of bed, changes into the dress, and stands before the mirror. Admiring herself, she twirls once and whispers with a spark in her eyes,

“Wow… Di’s choice is always perfect.”



She starts doing her makeup, the excitement quietly dancing in her smile. A soft nude lipstick glides over her lips, giving them a natural glow. She gathers her long, shiny hair into a sleek ponytail, strands falling gracefully around her face.

As she picks up the eyeliner, her hand moves with a practiced ease, tracing a perfect line over her beautiful eyes sharp, defined, and filled with quiet determination.

She steps out of the room, glowing in her new dress, and rushes to hug her sister tightly. "Thank you so much! I loved it — it's so beautiful!"

But her sister chuckles and says, "Don’t thank me, thank him."

She follows the direction of her sister’s pointing finger — and her eyes widen in disbelief.

Standing there, trying hard to look disinterested, was her younger brother.

She gasps. "He brought this? No way! Stop lying, Di. I can’t believe it — this is the same guy who comes begging to me even for ten rupees!"

Her brother, folding his arms with mock pride, retorts, "Yeah right, I didn’t buy it. And even if I did, why would I do it for a witch like you? Honestly, you do look like a chimpanzee in that dress."

The moment those words hit her ears, her eyes flare up. "You chimpanzee! You dumb donkey!"

She charges after him, chasing him around the room as he laughs and dodges, their sister watching the chaos with an amused shake of her head.

Their mom calls out, “Savi, stop it! You’re getting late — don’t you have to go to the party?”

But Savi doesn’t listen. She grabs a broom and chases after her brother again, threatening to smack him.

Her antics have the whole family in splits. Her little brother, enjoying the attention, keeps teasing her even more on purpose.

Finally, their dad intervenes, half-laughing, half-scolding, “Enough now, beta! Are you crazy? What are you even doing?”

She finally stops, throws the broom aside, and stands next to her father, muttering, “He’s such a dog.”

Her mother, half-smiling, says, “You’re calling him a dog, but he broke his piggy bank to buy that dress for you.”

She looks at her mom in disbelief. “Really?” she whispers, turning to look at her little brother.

He instantly senses trouble and, trying to escape her affection or possible revenge, blurts out, “We’re getting late, let’s go!”  and dashes out to start the car.

She knew her brother didn’t really know how to express his love, but his actions spoke louder than words. With a smile, she got into the car, and everyone drove off toward the party.

The moment they entered the party, Savi’s eyes lit up as she began scanning the hall with one mission—ice cream. Without wasting a second, she darted toward the dessert section, but in her excitement, her foot twisted unexpectedly, and she stumbled forward.

Just before she hit the ground, two strong arms caught her mid-fall. Her eyes squeezed shut in fear, and she immediately started muttering under her breath, panicking.

“Bhagwan ji, agar koi galti ho gayi ho toh maaf karna... lekin please mera sir mat phodna! Main ek choti si, bewakoof bachi hoon aapki... meri chocolates aur ice cream bhi le lena!”

The boy who had caught her couldn’t hold back his laughter at her dramatic murmuring.

“Savi?” he said, amused.

But instead of opening her eyes, she kept going, mistaking the voice for something far more ominous. “Bhagwan ji, itne paap toh nahi kiye the ki giri aur upar bulawa aa gaya! Yamraj ji, sorry... maine kuch nahi kiya! Aap jao, kisi aur ko le jao! Main nahi aungi aapke saath narak!”

The boy burst out laughing again, still holding her steady.

He moves a little closer to her and softly whispers in her ear:

"Miss Maheshwari, you're still on the floor… please open your eyes."

The moment she hears that familiar voice, she finally recognizes him. Her eyes snap open and as soon as she sees him, she yells out:

"Kairav sir?!"

Startled by her sudden reaction, they both lose balance—and the next second, both of them come crashing down onto the ground together.

She looks at him with guilt in her eyes and softly says,

Savi: "I'm sorry… I didn't do it on purpose."

Her eyes well up with tears, and before she can say more, he gently helps her up.

Kairav (calmly): ): "It's not necessary that you're at fault every single time something goes wrong."

He takes out his handkerchief and gently wipes her tears.

Without saying another word, he turns and walks away, leaving her standing there—speechless, holding onto that moment.

                          Thank you 😊❤️