Next morning Khushi stood beside the bus, her heart racing and her mind a whirlpool of emotions. The excitement of the competition mingled awkwardly with a gnawing worry in her stomach-where was Arnav? It felt as if the moments stretched endlessly as she scoured the crowd, hoping to see him emerge.
Aman shuffled closer, an understanding look in his eyes. "Woh nahi aayega," he said gently, knowing how much Khushi looked forward to his presence.
Khushi shook her head defiantly, "Woh aayenge." But the conviction in her voice faltered, the weight of uncertainty gradually sinking in.
"Kon sir, koon nahi aayega?" she muttered, struggling to comprehend the implications of Aman's words.
"Wohi jispe tumhe vishwas hai ki aaega," Aman stated, his eyes searching hers, hinting at the tension she could barely acknowledge.
"I'm not understanding, sir," Khushi replied, her brow creased in confusion.
Aman sighed, "Itni bhi nasamaj nahi ho tum. Baito gaadi mein, woh nahi aayega."
With that, they boarded the bus, the vibrant chatter of their peers filling the air, but a cloak of uncertainty pinned Khushi in place.
The competition began, and Khushi's nervousness felt palpable as she waited for her turn. That was until her phone buzzed unexpectedly. Her heart skipped as she saw Arnav's message flash on the screen: "All the best! Jeeto ya haro, koi farak nahi padta, bas himmat mat chorna!"
Hope surged within her. She stepped onto the stage, her heart pounding in rhythm with the cheers from the audience. Initially lost for words, a voice called out her name from the crowd. Gazing up, she found Arnav. The sight of him energized her, and she launched into her answers with newly found confidence.
His presence transformed her trepidation into triumph; she felt invincible.
Once the competition ended, joy erupted like confetti in her heart. She dashed toward Arnav, gushing with gratitude. "Thank you for coming!"
"I'm here for all students who participated," he replied casually, though Khushi noticed a slight flush on his cheeks.
The celebratory atmosphere morphed when an unexpected stop at a cozy restaurant disrupted their happiness. While some girls rushed to the restrooms, Khushi found herself locked inside, her calls for help falling on deaf ears amid the laughter outside.
Aman, noticing her absence in bus , frantically called Arnav. "Arnav, Khushi is missing! She went to the washroom and hasn't returned. Can you check on her?"
Concern gripped Arnav as he hastily made his way to the restaurant. "Khushi!" he prowled through the aisles, his heart thumping. Upon reaching the washroom, he banged on the door, "Khushi, are you in there?"
"Yahaan band ho gyi hoon! Kisi ko maloom nahi hai!" she replied, her voice tinged with frustration.
"Pagal ho bachi ho! Yahaan kya kar rahi ho?" His relief surged when the female staff finally opened the door.
"isme meri kya galti hai?" she retorted
As she emerged, irritation flashing in her eyes, he shot back, "Toh meri galti hai?"
"Chalo, meri shakal kya dekh rahi ho?" he replied, leading her out as he called Aman to reassure him.
Panic turned to hilarity when Arnav's car broke down midway home, forcing them to take refuge in a nearby house.
The rain poured relentlessly, Cautiously, they approached a welcoming couple who kindly agreed to let them in for the night.
The door swung open, revealing an elderly couple whose welcoming smiles washed away their apprehension. "Come in, come in! You'll catch a cold!" the woman exclaimed, ushering them into the cozy living room adorned with quaint decorations and soft furniture that promised respite from the storm.
Drenched and shivering, they gratefully accepted the couple's offer to change into dry clothes.
After changing, Arnav settled into the cozy living room, exhaling contentedly. But his breath hitched when Khushi walked out fully transformed, clad in a vibrant saree that cascaded around her like a waterfall of colors. She looked enchanting, and for a moment, the air thickened, brimming with unspoken emotions that had simmered beneath the surface for far too long.
Dinner soon awaited them, flavored with the rustic charm of home-cooked goodness. Khushi's laughter filled the kitchen as she helped the wife chop vegetables and stir pots, her joy infectious. Arnav, though quiet and reserved, couldn't help but smile at the sight. It felt deceptively ordinary, yet beautifully intimate.
As the meal settled on the table, an easy camaraderie formed until the husband, with a twinkle in his eyes, turned to Arnav. "Bahut pyar karte ho na use?"
Arnav froze, surprise washing over his features. "Nahi, nahi, pyar nahi. She is my student," he said, his voice betraying an awkward urgency.
"Oh," the husband replied, a hint of bewilderment in his tone, "We assumed you both were a couple."
In the kitchen, the wife "Bahut lucky ho tum, itna pyar karne wala boyfriend mila hai," she chimed, only to be met with a quick correction from Khushi, her cheeks flushing. "No, no, he is not my boyfriend; he is my professor!"
"Oh! I'm really sorry! I thought you were a couple!" the wife said, flustered.
Amid their delightful banter, the topic of love bubbled up. Arnav scoffed, "Pyar vyar kuch nahi hota , sab bakwas hai. Pyar me sbko dhoka hi milta hai , Pyar dhoka hai!" pyar me time waste hota hai , career waste hota hai , or life b waste hoti h .
Khushi couldn't resist speaking up, "Pyar zaroori hai! It's not a waste of time. You think love is just distraction, heartbreak, and lies, but it's not the whole truth. Love is about growth, passion, and connection!"
Her words ignited Arnav's contemplation. "Is it beautiful, though? Doesn't it often lead to jealousy, pain, and suffering? I've seen enough heartbreak to believe it's not worth the trouble."
"But isn't it also about understanding? A world without love would be hollow," she replied earnestly.
"I still say focus on studies. Love is a distraction," he insisted, but doubt flickered in his eyes.
"Don't lose hope, Khushi," the wife whispered, squeezing her shoulder. "Love is worth fighting for."
The evening wore on, filled with clashing perspectives, laughter, and more than a hint of awkwardness.
That night, sleep came easier than expected, despite the unacknowledged feelings lurking beneath the surface.
Next morning, When it was finally time to leave, Arnav drove Khushi home through the now-diminishing rain, silence enveloping them. It felt heavy with unsaid words, weighed down by possibility. The world around them had shifted subtly, yet profoundly, and each of them was aware of an undeniable truth lingering in the air.