"Yarrr ham mall kyun aaye hain? Online order kar lete na!" Vani groaned, dragging her heels so loud they echoed through the mall like a horror movie soundtrack.
"Pagal hai kya?" Pranvi replied, not even breaking stride as she practically towed Vani across the glossy floor. "Ek din mein kha se order kar leti? Kal party hai! Amazon Prime bhi bolta - 'Sorry behen, mujhe bhi time chahiye.'"
Vani sighed in dramatic defeat and let herself be dragged.
It was either this or wearing her old 2019 outfit that made her look like a "before" photo.
"Chal, ye wali shop me chalte hain."
Pranvi grabbed her arm and made a sharp turn into a boutique with gold-lettered signage and scary-looking mannequins.
"Welcome ma'am," said a well-trained staff member with a blinding smile. "Kya dekhna chahengi aap?"
"Party outfit," Pranvi replied confidently. "Kuch classy, hot, something different '"
The staff nodded like she'd just heard poetry and ran off to fetch options.
Round one,
A sequined jumpsuit with sleeves so long, they dragged on the floor like regret.
Vani held it up. "Yeh pehenke main party karungi ya floor mop karungi?"
Pranvi laughed. "Kya pata, dono. Do-in-one combo."
Round two,
A bodycon dress so tight it looked like it needed an oxygen cylinder.
Pranvi tried it on, walked out, and whispered, "Vani... is dress ne squeeze kar diya h mujhe poora, oxygen cylinder leke ghumna padega party me."
Vani nearly died laughing. "Tu toh lag raha hai jaise sahi jam gaya ho freezer me."
Round three,
A giant ruffled pastel gown that looked straight out of a fairytale... or a wedding... or a cotton candy machine explosion.
Vani came out looking like a human cupcake.
"How do I look?" she asked with a hopeful smile.
Pranvi blinked. Once. Twice.
"Honestly? Tujhe dekh ke mujhe shaadi ke laddoo yaad aa gaye. Cute ho, par khane ka man kar jayega kisi ka..."
They both collapsed laughing.
After six outfits, two emotional breakdowns, and one accidental mannequin elbow to the face, they walked out of the shop empty-handed.
Vani sighed. "Main toh bol rahi hoon... plain black kurti, jhumke, red lipstick. Bas. Over. Done."
Pranvi nodded. "Aur agar koi bole 'tumne effort nahi kiya', toh bol dena 'tumne mere heartbreaks nahi dekhe dressing room ke andar'."
They dramatically walked away, their wallets safe but their souls slightly injured.
After escaping yet another fashion disaster of a boutique, Vani wandered through the shimmering corridors of the mall, wide-eyed like a tourist in Paris.
"Omg, dekh na Pranvi," she whispered, spinning slowly. "Kitni pretty shops hain... this mall is literally prettier than my future!"
But her fairytale moment got a sharp interruption.
Her eyes stopped.
Zoomed in.
And locked.
"Vo dekh... Aman aur Ishan hain na vo!" she gasped, nudging Pranvi like she'd spotted aliens.
Pranvi froze, followed her gaze, and let out a silent scream. Without a second thought, she grabbed Vani's arm and yanked her straight into the nearest shop.
"Aree... areee... kya kar rahi hai?" Vani yelped in shock as she tripped past the threshold.
"Chhh... chhup rahi hoon!" Pranvi hissed, ducking like they were hiding from a sniper instead of two boys.
"Haan vo toh mujhe bhi dikh raha hai. Par kyun waise?" Vani raised an eyebrow. "Tu toh un dono ko baat baat pe khane ke liye bula leti hai, fir vo bhalu ka sautela bhai mere se ladta hai. Ab chhup rahi hai?"
"Are tu pehle yaha aake chhup," Pranvi snapped. "Fir batati hoon."
Vani reluctantly crouched beside her behind a heavily bejeweled mannequin wearing an equally loud lehenga and a trailing dupatta.
A staff member approached with hopeful enthusiasm.
"Ma'am, if you want to try the dupatta, you can do that over there. All types - bridesmaid, bride, even lehenga - we've got brand new and exclusive stock just in. Please come, ma'am!"
"No... no, we're just-" Vani started nervously, but before she could finish, Pranvi cut in, suddenly speaking much louder.
"Aa... haan! Chal dekhte hain na. Meri shaadi ke liye bridal lehenga lena hai , tujhe pehenna nahi hai, kya!" she said dramatically, pointing to Vani like it was a normal thing to force your best friend into a bridal look.
The salesman blinked, confused. "Sorry ma'am... but why would she wear your wedding lehenga?"
Pranvi didn't miss a beat. "Aapse matlab? Meri shaadi ka yeh pehne ya main pehnu... Apko dekhane se matlab hona chahiye."
Vani stared at her, 95% confused and 5% worried. "Par shaadi kis-"
Before she could complete the sentence, Pranvi pulled her away and began digging through the dupatta section like it was a clearance sale.
She picked up a stunning red dupatta with golden embroidery, the ends lined with a traditional Rajasthani lace. Gently, she placed it over her head and glanced toward the shop entrance, checking if the coast was clear.
But then, she caught herself in the mirror...
And paused.
The red, the gold, the soft fall of the fabric - she looked like a glowing bridal doll from a dream.
She tilted her head, smiling shyly to herself, holding one end of the dupatta delicately.
Vani, not one to be left behind in a mirror moment, grabbed a royal golden dupatta that looked like it was taken straight from a queen's wardrobe and posed beside her.
Outside, Aman and Ishan passed the shop, completely unaware.
Until.
Aman glanced at the mirror display near the entrance...
And spotted Vani, shining like she was doing a bridal photoshoot.
He turned to point it out to Ishan, but Ishan had already spotted Pranvi - standing with a dreamy smile, dupatta over her head, lost in her own reflection like a kid playing pretend wedding.
Both boys stared.
"Khud ko dekh to aise rahi hai," Aman muttered, "jaise swarg se utri koi apsara ho."
Ishan's lips twitched. "Dekh... Pranvi aur Vani."
"Mat dekh bhai," Aman suddenly said, grabbing Ishan's sleeve. "Unke aas-paas bhi nahi jaana. Nahi toh vo Vani fir se ladne lagti hai jaise India-Pakistan war me ho... aur main Pakistani dushman!"
Ishan burst out laughing. "Acha chal, next floor pe dekhte hain."
They disappeared into the crowd.
Back inside the store, Vani was still admiring herself.
"Ab chale? Kya kar rahi hai?" she finally asked, nudging Pranvi.
Pranvi peeked outside again. "Haan... chal."
They both walked out of the shop, heads held high like they just escaped a spy mission.
"Kyu chhup rahi thi? Ab batayegi?" Vani asked, narrowing her eyes.
Pranvi mumbled under her breath, "Ab tujhe kaise bataun... ki agar mil gaye to sath me shopping karni padegi mana ni kar pauungi aur Ishan se apni dress chhupani thi abhi..."
"Kya badbada rahi hai khud me?" Vani squinted.
"Vo... vo..." Pranvi fumbled. "Aman aur teri fir se ladai na ho jaye, isliye bas..."
"Haan... baat toh sahi hai," Vani nodded. "Waise bhi, use ladne ka shauk pehle se hai."
Pranvi sighed in relief.
"A... ab chal na. Kahin aur dekhte hain," she said quickly.
"Haan," Vani agreed.
And once again, the two girls marched forward into another shop - one hiding secrets, the other hiding sarcasm - and both hiding the fact that this shopping trip was turning into much more than just dress hunting.
Aman held up a sleek black coat-pant set, inspecting it with narrowed eyes.
"Yeh kaisa hai?" he asked, tilting it under the light.
"Acha hai! Try kar. Main yeh pink wala kar raha hoon," Ishan said confidently, holding up a soft blush suit.
Aman choked. "Pink?! Tu ladki hai kya?" he teased, chuckling.
"Pagal hai kya? Trend chal raha hai. Looks damn good! Chal ja try kar apna," Ishan rolled his eyes and headed into the trial room.
Minutes later...
"Waaattttt... chee!" both boys exclaimed, stepping out of their cabins simultaneously and bursting into laughter at each other's reflection.
"Tu toh aisa lag raha hai jaise kisi ladki ke kapde pehen ke aa gaya ho," Aman laughed, doubling over.
"And tu... tu lag raha hai jaise kisi bache ke kapde zabardasti pehen liye ho," Ishan fired back.
After exchanging insults and giggles, they quickly changed back and picked other sizes.
This time, luck favored Ishan.
"Yaar, mera toh mil gaya," he grinned. "Ab bas shoes lene hain."
"Mere baaki hain. Wait... woh wali shop dekhte hain." Aman pointed ahead.
"Haan, chal."
Meanwhile... trouble was brewing again.
The girls had entered another boutique.
Just as Pranvi was admiring a peach dress, she spotted Aman at the entrance.
Her eyes widened like a deer in headlights.
Without a second thought, she dashed into the nearest trial room - which was already occupied... by none other than Vani.
"AA-pagal hai kya?! Bahar nikal!" Vani shrieked.
"Shhh! Chilla mat, sab kya sochenge?" Pranvi hissed, shutting her eyes like that would make her invisible.
Vani hastily pulled her top back on. "Ye ghusne se pehle yaad ni aya . Ab batayegi kya kar rahi hai yahin ghus gayi?! Doosre mein chali jaati, ya ek minute wait kar leti."
"Are Aman aur Ishan bahar hain. Doosra khali nahi tha... aur main ladkon ke trial room me thodi ghus jaati!" Pranvi defended.
Vani rolled her eyes. "Mujhe samajh nahi aata... jab bhi kisi musibat se bachte hain, toh vo peeche kyun pad jaati hai!"
"Tu Ishan ko musibat mat keh!" Pranvi snapped reflexively.
"Hain? Matlab Aman ko keh dun?" Vani raised an eyebrow.
"Nahi-I mean... dono ko mat keh," Pranvi stammered.
"Hmmm," Vani smirked suspiciously. "Hum dress lene aaye hain ya hide & seek khelne?"
After a moment, Vani peeked outside. No sign of the boys.
She stepped out, followed by Pranvi.
Relief. Briefly.
Pranvi turned to admire a dress on a mannequin... only to find Ishan standing right across, holding a shirt.
Panic.
Without thinking, she turned on her heel to flee back to the trial room - but it was now occupied.
She glanced at the entrance.
Blocked.
Aman stood there, looking through coats.
In complete panic she darted into the men's changing room - the only place left to hide.
Ishan walked toward that very room, waiting for whoever was inside.
"Yaar, kitna time laga raha hai ye..." he muttered and knocked.
"Excuse me, please jaldi kijiye. Aur bhi log hain. Ham kabse bahar khade hain."
Inside, Pranvi was having a full-blown breakdown.
"Meri mati maari gayi thi kya? Main yahan ghus gayi? Ab kaise niklun?" she muttered, biting her lip.
Ishan knocked again. "Hello? Koi hai andar?"
In response, Pranvi panicked and dropped a hanger to at least let them know the cabin was occupied.
Meanwhile, Vani stepped out of another trial room, spotted Ishan and Aman... and gasped.
"Ye log fir aa gaye?!" she whispered and ducked behind a mannequin dramatically.
"Par Pranvi kahan gayi?" she wondered, scanning around.
Then she noticed them knocking again and again.
Ishan groaned, "Itni der toh koi dulhan bhi parlour mein nahi lagati jitna ye insan changing room mein laga raha hai!"
Vani's eyes widened. "Wait a sec... Pranvi?!"
She immediately typed on her phone:
Vani : "Kahan hai? Main wait kar rahi hoon!"
Seconds later, her phone buzzed.
Pranvi : "Yaar main boys changing room me fass gayi hoon. Bahar Ishan khada hai. Ab niklungi toh beizzati ho jaayegi. Kuch kar na, please!"
Vani: "Pagal hai kya tu?! Vahan kya zarurat thi jaane ki!"
Pranvi: "Baad me daant lena. Abhi kuch kar!"
Vani casually walked over, then "accidentally" knocked over a mannequin, creating chaos. Everyone turned to help fix the fallen doll.
In that split second, she sprinted to the door, knocked once and Pranvi dashed out like a fugitive on parole. They both bolted out of the shop.
"Thank God... bach gaye," Pranvi breathed.
"Haan! Ab main thak gayi hoon. Chal, nikal yahan se," Vani sighed. "Kab tak chhupein? Aur tu itna bhi kya chhup rahi hai?"
Pranvi muttered to herself, "Ishan se apna look chhupane ke liye..."
"Kya bola?" Vani asked.
"Vo... vo... aise hi. Chal tu," Pranvi said quickly.
Vani gave her the classic suspicious best friend stare, but said nothing... for now.
After detours,hiding episodes, and near-death-by-awkward
-encounters, the girls finally chose their dresses.
They walked toward the shoe store - tired but slightly triumphant.
Little did they know... the mall drama wasn't over yet.
Aman and Ishan were casually scanning the shoe section, completely unaware of the chaos about to unfold.
Until Aman's eyes widened in panic.
"Bhagooo! Vo dono aa rahi hain yaha!" Aman hissed, gripping Ishan's arm like he'd just spotted two T-Rexes approaching.
Ishan turned, spotted Pranvi and Vani walking toward them, and immediately switched gears.
"Yrr rehne de, na chhupna-chhupana ab," he said, tired of Aman's antics.
"Nahi! Mujhe us magarmach ki mausi ke samne nahi jana. Pata nahi kab ladna shuru kar de," Aman argued in a hushed tone. "Tu chup chap chhup ja."
"Par mein kyu chhupu tu akela chhup ja " .
"Dost nahi hai ".
Before Ishan could reply, Aman disappeared into the winter wear section like a spy on a mission.
Ishan rolled his eyes but followed, picking up a muffler and awkwardly wrapping it around his face.
A small kid nearby raised a suspicious eyebrow and pointed at him.
"Mummy! Dekho! Ye uncle itni garmi mein muffler pehn rahe hain!"
Ishan lowered his voice and muttered, "Eee...chup! Jao yaha se!"
Meanwhile, Aman, in his panic, chose the worst possible hiding spot-right behind a mannequin... wearing a sexy honeymoon outfit.
A second later, another kid pointed at him.
"Uncle! Uncle! Aap ye pehante ho? Awww! Mummy ko bataunga!"
Aman nearly jumped out of his skin and bolted towards Ishan's hideout.
Suddenly, the unmistakable click-click of heels echoed nearby.
Aman gasped. "Vo...vo aa rahi hain!" he whispered dramatically, then dropped behind a shoe rack so low.
Ishan did a half-spin, slipped into a winter jacket display, and somehow managed to tuck his long legs inside like he was attempting microwave yoga.
"Tu wahan kya kar raha hai?" Aman whispered from under a bench.
"Jacket section mein hoon. Bas yeh mat puchhna ki garmi mein muffler kyun liya." Ishan whispered back, peeking out through hangers like a fashion ninja.
A small child peeked under the bench and shrieked, "Mummy! Dekho, uncle floor pe so rahe hain!"
Aman gave a fake smile. "Main yoga kar raha hoon,
beta."
From across the aisle, Ishan muttered, "Beta kaafi smart hai. Mujhe lagta hai Vani se kam insulting nahi hoti uski commentary."
Aman snorted.
As the girls strolled past, laughing and talking, neither of them noticed the two grown men trying to camouflage like cartoon characters.
"Ab nikle kya?" Ishan whispered.
"Ruko... Pranvi ruk gayi hai... kuch dekh rahi hai," Aman said, daring to peek.
Ishan, now sweaty and cramped, said, "Mujhe lag raha hai meri knee permanently fold ho gayi hai."
"Patience, bro. Respect the art of dramatic escape," Aman replied like a master of hiding.
Just then, the store's music switched to a loud bass remix.
Aman took his chance.
He rolled-yes, literally rolled-from under the bench like he was doing a slow-motion action sequence in an Ajay Devgn film. But instead of a heroic finish, he crashed into a salesguy holding a tray of perfume testers.
"Sir, try our new 'Bold Man' scent?" the guy asked, slightly confused.
Aman sniffed. "Bold toh main tab lagta jab yeh sab openly kar raha hota."
Finally, Pranvi and Vani walked past them, still oblivious.
"Clear?" Ishan asked, channeling his inner spy.
"Clear." Aman nodded.
They stood up, dusted off invisible dirt (and their pride), and high-fived.
"That was some next-level Mission Impossible." Aman grinned.
Ishan laughed. "Bro, imagine agar kisi CCTV mein yeh sab record ho gaya ho."
"Phir toh hamara future sirf Reels mein viral hone ka hai." Aman said, slipping on imaginary sunglasses like nothing happened.
As they casually walked away, Aman whispered, "Acha hua us mannequin ke paas us bache ne zor se nahi bola... nahi toh beizzati ho jaati. Dono thodi hi door pe khadi thi."
"Tujhe wahi jagah mili thi chhupne ke liye?" Ishan chuckled, shaking his head.
"Ab chalo... shoes lete hain aur bhaag lete hain yahan se."
And just like that, the mission was complete.
"Finally, shopping ho gayi. Ab chal, kuchh kha lete hain... fir seedha wapas." Vani said, stretching her arms as she sank into the cushioned seat at the café. "Kal subah ek surgery attend karni hai."
Pranvi nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Haan... mujhe bhi vo tumour case waala kaam dekhna hai. Lagta hai surgery hi karni padegi. It's getting complicated now." Her tone shifted from casual to thoughtful. "Bas uske family ke baare mein soch rahi hoon. I just hope sab sahi se ho jaye."
Vani unwrapped her sandwich and looked up. "Tumne bataya tha-tumhara patient kaafi young hai na?"
"Haan. Early 40s. Initially it looked operable, but now it's pushing into a sensitive zone. We don't want to risk motor deficits." Pranvi sighed, poking at her food without much appetite.
Vani took a sip of water. "You know, I've seen families fall apart in the cardiology ward. One block and suddenly, years of routine collapse into uncertainty."
"Dimaag ka case thoda alag hota hai. Patients kuch keh bhi nahi paate. Unka pain silent hota hai, aur unka behaviour unpredictable. It hits different."
"And yet, somehow we're supposed to stay calm through all of it." Vani smiled faintly. "Tumhare jaisa patience chahiye mujhe."
Pranvi gave a small smile. "Aur mujhe tumhari clarity. Tum log toh har second fight mode mein rehte ho."
They both chuckled.
For a while, neither said anything. The cafe was warm, cozy-almost surreal compared to the cold, sterile hospital air they were used to.
Then Vani spoke again, softer now. "Sometimes mujhe lagta hai... hum log itna kuch dekh lete hain na, ki kuch feel hi nahi hota. Par aise hi moments mein, jaise aaj, jab hum bas casual baithke khana kha rahe hain... tab realise hota hai, we're still human."
Pranvi looked out the window, watching the faint lights of the street. "Haan. Aur kabhi kabhi, wahi humanity hi sabse zyada kaam aati hai operation theatre ke bahar."
They smiled at each other-no rush, no panic, just mutual respect born from long hours, harder choices, and the quiet understanding that some lives pass through your hands... and stay in your thoughts forever.
After a long day of shopping, dodging, laughing, and eating, the girls finally returned home. Ishan and Aman had also gone their separate ways, probably crashing into their beds with the same level of exhaustion.
"Yrrr, main teri balcony mein ja rahi hoon," Pranvi said, already tugging the sliding door open.
"Haan chali ja. Main toh so rahi hoon. Subah 7 baje OT pahuchna hai. Good night," Vani mumbled from the hallway, already half asleep.
Pranvi stepped out onto the small balcony, the soft night air brushing against her skin as she sank into the wooden couch, hugging a cushion to her chest.
The city lights flickered in the distance, but her mind was elsewhere.
Her fingers gently traced the edge of the cushion as she whispered to herself,
"Kal Ishan ko kaise lagungi us dress mein?"
She blushed, cheeks warming in the cool air.
A tiny smile tugged at her lips.
"Aaj tumse chhupne mein bada maza aaya... acha hua pakdi nahi gayi. Agar dekh lete toh mera kal ka surprise hi kharab ho jaata." She laughed softly, hugging the cushion tighter.
Then her expression changed-playful, yet a little wistful.
"Pagal hai kya, vo tera boyfriend thodi hai jiske liye surprise plan kar rahi hai..." she scolded herself under her breath.
A pause.
And then, a small shrug.
"Toh kya hua? Kuchh toh hai."
She looked up at the sky, searching for a star or maybe just a little sign.
"Kash tumhe bhi mere liye feelings hoti... Hey Bhagwanji, kuch toh karo na." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the night heard her. The wind carried it somewhere into the silence.
She leaned back, still smiling to herself.
A girl with a soft heart, a hopeful mind, and a secret wish - tucked safely in the quiet folds of a city that never sleeps.
The conference room had that sterile, too-quiet atmosphere-one only a neurologist under pressure could appreciate.
Pranvi sat alone, the table in front of her cluttered with brain scans, EEG reports, and clinical notes. The coffee she'd bought an hour ago had gone cold, much like her brain's ability to function at this point.
She stared hard at the MRI in front of her. The tumour had clearly shifted-edging dangerously close to the thalamus. The patient had suffered three seizures in under 48 hours. This wasn't something she could delay anymore.
She leaned back, pressing her fingers to her temple.
"We can't wait any longer," she muttered under her breath.
A moment later, the comforting aroma of fresh coffee snapped her out of her thoughts.
She looked down-someone had placed a new cup beside her files.
She looked up.
"Ishan? Tum?"
He was standing there in his usual calm, composed way, hands in his pockets like he hadn't just silently ninja'd into the room.
"Coffee," he said simply.
She gave a tired but grateful smile. "Thank you."
He sat down across from her, glancing at the papers.
"You alright? You look stressed."
She let out a long sigh. "Haan... ye tumour case ko leke. I didn't get a chance to run it by you-you were tied up with that brainstem ischemia case the whole week." She pushed a scan toward him. "Ab compression badh raha hai. Meds aren't holding. Patient's started losing orientation between episodes."
Ishan frowned, examining the scan. "This was from yesterday?"
"Yes. And it's worsening faster than we expected. I'm worried we'll miss the safe surgical window."
He tapped the image thoughtfully. "It's right at the thalamic border... if we wait longer, we risk motor and cognitive impairments. We'll have to plan for resection."
She nodded. "That's what I thought. I wanted to confirm with you before finalising, but I think we both know-it has to happen. And soon. Within 48 hours."
"Vitals okay?"
"Stable. No anticoagulants in use. Pre-op labs are clean. Seizures are increasing but BP's under control. Patient's anxious, but aware."
Ishan leaned back slightly, exhaling. "Alright. Let's go ahead. You're doing this one."
Before she could even react, the door opened.
"Good morning."
It was Dr. Suryansh sinha , their senior consultant and head of the neurology unit.
Both stood immediately. "Good morning, sir."
He nodded at Ishan. "Everything on track?"
"Yes, sir."
Then he turned to Pranvi. "You?"
She managed a smile. "Good, sir."
And then, casually, Ishan dropped the bomb.
"Sir, she'll be performing the tumour resection herself."
Pranvi whipped her head toward him. "Ishan... par-"
Then caught herself. Not now. Not in front of him.
She composed quickly. "I mean... Ishan sir, I thought I was assisting you... right?"
Ishan turned back to Dr. Sinha. "She was. But I've been assigned that deep temporal lobe epilepsy case for surgical prep and mapping, starting day after tomorrow. It's going to take at least two full days of planning and OR time. So she'll take this one."
Dr. Sinha looked thoughtful. He didn't speak. Just nodded once and walked out.
Ishan followed.
In the corridor
Dr. Sinha finally asked, "Are you confident she's ready to lead this?"
Ishan didn't hesitate. "Yes, sir. Completely."
"It's not a basic case. Close proximity to the thalamus, seizure risk... one wrong move-"
"I know. But she knows this case better than anyone. She's followed it from the beginning, tracked every symptom, adjusted every med. And she's precise. I've seen her hands in high-pressure procedures-she doesn't flinch."
Dr. Sinha gave him a look. "This is still a high-stakes call."
Ishan's voice stayed steady. "Sir, she's not doing it because she's next in line. She's doing it because she's the right one for it."
The light from the window fell softly into Room 312, filtering through sheer curtains. On the bedside table sat a small framed photograph - a man, a woman, and a smiling young girl, barely twelve.
Pranvi stepped in, her steps light but confident, the file in her hand already open. She paused for a moment at the photo before looking at the patient.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Mehra ," she greeted, her voice calm and warm.
He looked up from the photo, managing a faint smile. "Doctor Pranvi. Come, sit."
She pulled the chair closer, taking her usual seat. "I just wanted to talk before tomorrow. Final pre-op discussion."
He nodded, rubbing his hands together slowly, nervous. "I've been trying not to think about it. But it's hard when your daughter just called you ten minutes ago and said, 'Papa, jaldi theek ho jaana. Mujhe school ke play mein lines sunani hain.'"
Pranvi's eyes softened. "She sounds sweet."
He smiled. "She's everything. My wife's strong, she keeps saying we'll get through it. But... inside I know they're scared."
There was silence for a moment, just the rhythmic beep from the monitor.
"Mr. Mehra," Pranvi began gently, "we've reviewed everything twice, triple-checked the imaging, and carefully timed the window for this operation. The tumour hasn't spread, but it's pressing on a delicate area. We're going in at the right time."
He nodded slowly, then looked at her. "What are the chances that I wake up... and forget who they are?"
It was the question she always expected - and dreaded.
"There's always a risk," she said honestly. "But based on your reports and the location of the tumour, we're confident. You may experience temporary disorientation or mild memory fog, but we don't expect any permanent memory loss."
He looked away for a second, wiping his eye with the back of his hand.
"She still sleeps with that same raggedy teddy bear. Says she'll give it to me in the hospital once I'm better."
Pranvi felt a tightness in her chest but kept her expression steady.
"She'll get to do that, Mr. Mehra. You'll be there. To listen to her play lines. To tell her she was amazing. And to keep pretending that teddy bear doesn't smell weird."
He chuckled through the tears. "You're good at this."
She smiled softly. "I try."
He took a deep breath. "Promise me, Doctor... if something happens-if there's even a moment of doubt-just think about them. My wife. My daughter."
Pranvi gently placed her hand over his.
"I already am. That's why I'm doing this surgery like I'd do it for my own family."
The hospital cafeteria was almost empty - just a few interns whispering over half-finished tea, and the faint clink of cups behind the counter.
Pranvi sat at a corner table, nervously tracing the rim of her coffee mug with her finger. Her phone buzzed once - Ishan: On my way - and then went still.
Minutes later, he arrived, slightly out of breath, sleeves rolled up, hair still damp near the temples from scrubbing out of surgery.
"Tumne bulaya tha," he said casually, pulling out a chair across from her.
She nodded. "Haan... voh... you said I'm going to perform the surgery alone but-"
"Don't you believe yourself?" he interrupted, leaning slightly forward.
She blinked. "I do. But..."
"Then why are you scared?" he asked, his voice gentler now.
"Don't you believe me?"
Pranvi looked up at him, slightly startled. Her heart stuttered. Why is he asking that?
Did she believe in him?
"More than myself..." she muttered without thinking.
He smiled, just slightly - the kind of smile that made her stomach twist.
"I mean, your seniors trust you. I trust you. You're capable, Pranvi. So why overthink? Just stay calm and trust your hands. You can do it," he said.
His tone was calm, but firm - like a steady pulse.
Pranvi managed a small smile. "But still... can't you be there? Just somewhere around when I perform it?"
He leaned back with a smirk. "Don't worry. I already have a solution for that."
She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "What?"
"You'll know tomorrow," he said with a teasing grin.
She sighed. "Fine. Now go. And you said something about 8 PM?"
"Yep. Me and Aman will pick you and Vani. Be ready."
"No, there's no need-"
"Arey why not? We're a couple, na."
Silence.
The word hung in the air like a sudden mic drop.
Pranvi blinked. "W-what?"
Realizing what he just said, Ishan almost choked on his coffee. "I-I mean for the party! Party mein partners hote hain na... I meant that! I said couple by mistake. Sorry!"
She didn't respond just stared at him, stunned.
He cleared his throat, flustered. "I should go..."
She only nodded, biting the inside of her cheek to hide the heat rising to her face.
He stood, gave a last half-smile, and walked off, disappearing down the hospital corridor.
"Couple..." she whispered to herself.
A soft blush crept up her cheeks.
"Ma'am, are you okay?" a nurse asked, walking by.
"Yeah, yeah! I'm good!" she said quickly, grabbing her files and walking off, smiling like a complete idiot and trying and failing to hide her red face.
Swara was lying sideways on the sofa, one hand on her laptop, the other pressed to her forehead. Her
brows were furrowed, lips pressed tight, and her thumb kept hitting the refresh button like the page might suddenly feel pity and update.
"Ab kya fayda... jab bola tha apply kar, tab toh kiya nahi," Shanti her mother said, adjusting the pallu of her saree, her tone carrying the usual I-told-you-so.
"Vahi toh," Vineeta her grandmother chimed in without looking up from her knitting. "Teen saal barbaad kiye us bekaar se lab mein. Itni mehnat kisi achhi jagah pe lagati toh aaj yeh din nahi dekhna padta."
"Bas karo aap dono," Vikram her father cut in, his voice sharper than usual. He sat forward in the armchair, elbows on his knees. "Vo pehle hi tension mein hai, aap log aur mat badhao."
"Haan... meri bachi har kaam soch samajh ke karti hai. Tumhare jaise nahi," Rajveer said, giving Vineeta a pointed look. Then, with a softer tone, he reached over and ran a hand over Swara's hair, like smoothing the chaos inside her mind.
Swara ignored the family tug-of-war, eyes fixed on the laptop screen, her nails gnawed down from nervous chewing. She could feel her own pulse in her temples. Her breaths came faster with each passing minute.
"Beta, agar yahan nahi hua toh doosri jagah apply kar lena," Vikram tried to sound casual, but there was a flicker of worry in his eyes.
Swara's voice cracked, "Papa... I always wanted to be in this hospital. Delhi ka tha... unhone toh pehle hi reject kar diya. Aur agar yahan se bhi-" She stopped mid-sentence, throat tight, looking away so no one would see her eyes glossing over.
Rajveer leaned in, covering her cold, restless hands with his warm palms. "Suno... zindagi wahi deti hai jo tumhare liye best ho. Shayad pehla wala tumhare liye sahi nahi tha. Aur agar yahan bhi nahi hua... toh shayad kuch aur bada tumhare liye likha hai. Bhagwan ka faisla hamesha behtareen hota hai."
Shanti, who was still pretending to fold clothes, glanced at Swara and muttered a silent prayer under her breath. Vineeta, whose tone had been sharp minutes ago, shifted closer and gently patted Swara's back. "Tension mat le... sab thik hoga."
Swara's gaze darted to the bottom-right of her laptop screen - 12:15 p.m. Her chest tightened. "Itna time kyun laga rahe hain? 12 baje bola tha list ka!" Her voice carried a frustrated tremble.
"It's okay, bas thoda aur intezaar," Vikram said, though his own eyes had been checking the wall clock every other minute.
Rajveer's thumb lightly brushed her knuckles. "Aur haan... panic mat kar. Hume tumpe poora bharosa hai."
There was a strange stillness in the room after that. The sound of the ceiling fan hummed above them, the tick-tick of the clock growing louder in Swara's ears. Her leg bounced nervously against the sofa edge.
Outside, a distant car horn blared. Inside, her grandmother's hand remained steady on her back, her father's quiet strength sat beside her, her mother's eyes were closed in prayer, and her grandfather's faith wrapped around her like a shield.
For a brief second, Swara realised - they were all waiting with her. The result would be hers, but the moment belonged to all of them.
After what felt like hours of refreshing the same page, Swara finally slammed the laptop shut.
"Mujhe nahi dekhna ab!" she declared, pushing it away. "If they had to select me, I would have gotten a reply by now. Aur final list bhi nahi aayi. I'm going to my room... and nobody disturb me!"
Her walk to the room was pure drama, a slow sulk at first, then an annoyed stomp, and finally the door shut with that I'm done with life energy.
From the kitchen, her mother called out, "Gate khula chhod de... band mat kar! Phir safai ke liye knock karna padega."
"Hadd hai is ghar mein..." Swara's muffled voice came from inside, "Thodi der privacy nahi mil sakti? Let me be sad in peace!"
Her mother shouted, "Open the door!"
Swara cracked it open just an inch and said, "Ye lo... dekh lo, khula hi chhoda hai!" Then she closed it again, muttering about privacy ka funeral.
In the living room, Rajveer was mid-conversation with Vikram when a "ping" cut through the noise. Swara's phone, abandoned on the table, lit up with a notification.
"Wait... yeh toh... list ka link lag raha hai!" Vikram said, already reaching for it.
The word "list" was like setting off an alarm - heads turned instantly.
"Jaldi khol na!" Vineeta almost jumped onto the sofa.
"Kya number pe hai? Kitne log hue?" Shanti asked in rapid-fire Hindi.
"Kitni ladkiyan select hui?" Vineeta chimed in before Vikram could reply.
Vikram rolled his eyes. "Aap dono chup hoge toh dekhenge! Even the internet is buffering after hearing your questions!"
They went silent, mostly.
The page loaded. Everyone leaned in so close they nearly bumped foreheads.
"Only two candidates selected... and one of them is Swara!" Vikram read out, his voice filled with triumph.
"Thank God!" he sighed, smiling wide.
For a moment, the living room went quiet in shock... and then exploded in chaos.
"Beti ne naam roshan kar diya!"
"Kal toh rasgulle banenge!"
"I'm making chai, double sugar!"
In the middle of the cheering, Rajveer looked at the closed door.
"She's still sulking inside?" he asked.
"Ha... so rahi hogi apne dukhi mode mein," Vineeta smirked.
They thought about telling her immediately... but then, a shared grin spread across faces.
Rajveer glanced at the clock, then at the others in the room. "Abhi Swara ko batate hai na?"
Shanti immediately shook her head. "Bilkul nahi! Direct bol denge toh simple ho jayega. Proper surprise banate hain. Zindagi mein aise pal baar-baar nahi aate."
Vineeta's eyes sparkled. "Haan... aur mast sa table sajayenge. Uske favourite snacks order karte hain."
Vikram smirked. "Aur ek kaam karte hain... jab wo bahar aayegi, sab ek saath chillayenge 'Congratulations!' jaise reality show ka finale ho."
Rajveer laughed. "Bas dhyaan rahe, kahin bechari ka heart fail na ho jaye."
Shanti waved him off. "Heart strong hai meri beti ka. Waise bhi, hum usko samose, jalebi, pizza se sambhal lenge.
Phones came out, everyone talking over each other.
Shanti: "Swara ko cheese burst pizza pasand hai, woh order karo."
Vineeta: "Aur uske bina jalebi ka celebration adhoora lagta hai."
Vikram: "Pakode bhi... baarish ka mausam hai, mood ban jayega."
Rajveer: "Main cold coffee order kar deta hoon... ya chocolate milkshake?"
Shanti: "Milkshake! Uske liye toh yeh ultimate treat hai."
The food orders were placed in a flurry of excitement. Vineeta even went to the kitchen to bring out Swara's favourite floral plates "for the aesthetic," as she put it.
The dining table now looked like it belonged in a festive ad - steaming pakoras, glossy jalebis, a giant pizza box in the centre, samosas neatly arranged, and two tall glasses of chocolate milkshake.
Vikram stood back and admired their work. "Bata raha hoon, Swara humse zyada khush iss khane ko dekh ke hogi."
Rajveer chuckled. "Sach mein... kaam se zyada yeh menu uska mood banayega."
"Kaise bulayenge usko?" Vineeta asked.
"Seedha mat bolna. Bas keh do ki urgently living room mein aana hai," Shanti suggested.
"Ya phir bolo ki koi mehmaan aaya hai... " Vikram added with a grin.
Rajveer raised an eyebrow. "Mehmaan kaun banega? Tu?"
"Main bhi ready hoon role play ke liye," Vikram said proudly.
Everyone laughed, but finally decided Shanti should call her - she was the only one Swara didn't suspect of plotting anything dramatic.
Shanti knocked on Swara's door.
"Beta, jaldi bahar aao... sab bula rahe hain."
Swara's muffled voice came from inside. "Kya hua? Main busy hoon."
Shanti glanced back at the others, then improvised. "Important baat hai... jaldi."
After a pause, the door creaked open. Swara stepped out, frowning slightly. "Kya emergency hai?"
The moment she stepped into the living room, everyone shouted together -
"CONGRATULATIONS, SWARA!"
She froze. "Wait... what? Kis liye?"
Rajveer grinned and pointed at the table. "Yeh celebration tumhare liye hai."
Swara blinked between their faces and the food. "Mere liye? But... kyun? Maine kuch kiya kya?"
Vineeta smirked. "Tum select ho gayi ho, madam!"
Swara laughed incredulously. "Stop joking... aise hi surprise de rahe ho kya?"
Vikram shook his head and handed her his phone with the news. "Yeh lo, dekh lo khud."
She stared at the screen for a good ten seconds, eyes darting over the words again and again.
"No... this can't be real."
Shanti patted her shoulder. "Sach hai, beti. You did it "
Still, Swara shook her head slowly, as if afraid the moment would vanish if she believed it too quickly. "I... I need a minute."
Rajveer chuckled. "Le lo minute... par jalebi thandi mat hone dena."
Everyone laughed, and gradually, Swara's disbelief melted into a huge grin. She hugged each one of them tightly, tears pricking her eyes.
Finally, she sat down, took a bite of samosa, and sighed. "Okay... ab mujhe sach mein lag raha hai ki yeh ho gaya. Par celebration ke liye sari cheeje ap log ki fav hai meri nahi "
The celebration carried on - with Swara laughing, eating, and teasing everyone for keeping the secret so well.
After they celebrated and discussed the final interview - the one that would take her to Jaipur - the house slowly returned to its usual rhythm. But Swara couldn't stop grinning.
By 4 pm, she was wide awake in bed, scrolling her phone aimlessly. Her fingers hovered over Pranvi's contact.
"I should tell this good news to Pranvi and Vani too... that we'll now work in the same city," she murmured to herself, already picturing their shocked, happy faces.
She dialled Pranvi's number - then stopped it before the first ring.
"Wait... I think pehle interview clear hone deti hu. Jab dene jaungi tab toh batana padega... koi baat nahi, tabhi surprise deti hu," she muttered, tossing the phone lightly on the bed.
She flopped back onto her pillow but her mind was buzzing. She smiled at the thought. "Par shaam ko normal call kar lungi... baat karne ko. Waise bhi un dono ka gossip meter full charge hoga."
She buried herself in her blanket, only to pop out a second later with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Abhi ek kaam karti hu... Varun ko batati hu pehle. Par chhat pe jana padega... yeh mission secret hai."
Quietly, she tiptoed past the living room, where Vineeta and Shanti were still talking about the "perfect outfit" Swara should wear for the final interview. She suppressed a laugh and slipped out to the terrace.
Pulling her shawl tight against the breeze, she dialled Varun's number.
"Hello?" his familiar voice came through.
"Hiiiii..." Swara's tone was sing-song. "You know, I'm so happy today."
"Ohh... why? Did you find treasure? Ya tumhare dada ne apni property tumhare naam kar di?" he teased.
"Pagal ho kya? Jaao, rehne do... nahi karni baat tumse," she said, pretending to be annoyed.
"Arre arre, sorry sorry... batao toh." His chuckle was soft in her ear.
I got selected for the job of lab technician I applied for! I'm so happy... aur iska matlab... ham dono kuchh time baad apni family ko bata sakte hain relationship ke baare mein." Swara's voice held both excitement and hope.
"Ha... ha... par abhi wait karte hain na... ek saal aur, at least," Varun said, his tone turning cautious.
Swara frowned. "But why? Everything fine?"
"Ah... ha... everything is fine. Bas kuch kaam h abhi... aur promotion ka wait bhi karna... tum samajh rahi ho na?" He tried to keep it casual.
"Ok... as your wish. We can wait," she said slowly.
"Thank you... you're so understanding," he replied warmly.
Swara smiled faintly - until a female voice floated in from his side.
"Chale? Nahi toh pighal jayegi..."
Swara's smile vanished. "Ye kiski awaaz thi? Aur kya pighal jayegi?"
"Vo... vo... ek colleague hai. Meeting ke liye bol rahi hai... urgent hai na, boss bula rahe hain. Agar time se gaya toh mera kaam dekh ke pighal jayenge aur promotion de denge. Bas wahi," Varun said quickly.
"Ohh... ok then... bye." Swara's voice was clipped.
She ended the call, staring at her phone for a moment longer. The terrace breeze felt colder now. Without another word, she walked back to her room, shut the door quietly, and sank into her bed - the earlier excitement now mixed with a small, unshakable doubt.
Swara's phone buzzed just as she was lazily scrolling through a random recipe video.
Unknown Number.
She frowned but picked up anyway. "Hello?"
"Good afternoon, ma'am. Am I speaking to Ms. Swara Thakur?" came a polite, clear voice from the other end.
"Yes, that's me," she said, curiosity creeping into her tone.
"I'm Manvi, calling from Sunrise Care Hospital. You had applied for the post of Lab Technician recently?"
Swara straightened up on her bed. "Yes, I did."
"Well, congratulations. Your application has been shortlisted," the woman said warmly. "I'm calling to inform you that your final interview will be in two weeks."
Swara's lips curved into a slow, stunned smile. "Oh... that's great news! Could you please tell me the exact date and time?"
"Of course. It's on the 18th, at 11:30 a.m., at our Jaipur branch - main administrative building, second floor, Conference Room B."
"Got it... and I should bring my documents, right?"
"Yes. Please carry your original certificates along with photocopies, your updated resume, and a passport-size photograph."
Swara nodded instinctively, even though the caller couldn't see her. "Alright, I'll be ready. Anything I should prepare for in particular?"
"It'll be a panel interview - a mix of technical and situational questions, plus a short discussion about your past work experience," Meera explained.
"Okay, I'll prepare accordingly."
"Great. If you have any questions or face travel issues, you can call this number back. We'll see you on the 18th. Good luck, Ms. Thakur."
"Thank you so much," Swara sa
id, still smiling as she ended the call.
The moment the call disconnected, she just stared at her screen, heart thumping in excitement.
Jaipur... here I come.
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