Scene 1: "The Stained File"
New York's cold breeze hit Aashvi's face as she rushed through the crowded streets, her mind racing. She was late-late for a critical meeting with Dharam Singh Rathore, her senior, mentor, and the person who had always expected perfection from her. Today, she had messed up, not just with time but with something far worse.
The morning had been a disaster.
"Mihir, where's my file?" Aashvi shouted, frantically searching the common table in the dorm's shared living area.
"How would I know?" Mihir replied casually, sipping his coffee.
"Because you always dump your stuff here!" she snapped, tossing aside notebooks and random items scattered across the table.
"Aashvi, chill yaar. What's the big deal?" Mihir said lazily, leaning back in his chair.
"The big deal is that file has classified documents!" she yelled, finally finding the file under a pile of Mihir's sketch pads. Her heart sank when she saw the edges slightly bent and coffee stains near the corner.
"Mihir!" she exclaimed, glaring at him.
"Relax, it's just a file," he said with a shrug.
"No, Mihir, it's not just a file. Tumhe idea bhi hai yeh kitna important hai?" she said, snatching it and rushing to leave.
By the time she reached the meeting venue, she was out of breath and already bracing for the storm to come.
---
Inside the meeting room, Dharam Singh Rathore stood near the window, his tall figure radiating authority. He turned sharply as Aashvi entered, slamming the door shut behind her.
"You're late," he said, his voice cold but loud enough to echo in the room.
"Sir, woh-"
"Silence!" he barked, slamming his hand on the table. "ye coffee stain, Tum samajhti ho yeh kya hai? Ek mission ki file, jo classified hai, tumne apne dorm ke common table par rakhi thi?"
Aashvi froze, clutching the file tightly. "Sir, I-"
"Ek minute ki delay aur yeh file galat haathon mein chali jaati toh kya hota, huh?" he shouted, his eyes blazing. "Do you even realize what's at stake here? Tumhare roommates civilian hain, unhe yeh file ki zarurat nahi samajh aani chahiye thi. Aur tum time par nahi aayi, kaam incomplete lekar!"
"Sir, I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice trembling. "Mujhse galti ho gayi."
"Galti?" Dharam's voice dropped slightly, but his words cut deeper. "Yeh field galtiyon ke liye nahi bani hai, Aashvi. Tumse yeh umeed nahi thi."
Aashvi's eyes welled up with tears, but she stood still, not daring to show weakness. She knew Dharam's anger wasn't misplaced-she had been careless.
For a moment, the room fell silent except for the ticking of the clock. Dharam exhaled sharply and sat down, motioning her to do the same.
"Baitho," he said, his tone softening slightly.
Aashvi sat, her head lowered in shame.
"Beta," Dharam began after a pause, "tum meri sabse trusted agent ho. Par trust ek din mein nahi banta. Main tumse strict hoon kyunki tum is field ki best ban sakti ho. Par yeh carelessness-yeh unacceptable hai. Tumhari ek galti puri team ko risk mein daal sakti hai."
Aashvi finally looked up, tears brimming in her eyes. "Sir, mujhe pata hai. Main dobara kabhi aisi galti nahi karungi. Promise."
Dharam's expression softened further, and he reached across the table, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Mujhe tumpe bharosa hai, Aashvi. Tum meri first cadet ho, and special bhi, 5 saal se mere under ho and mere pure team ki head bhi tho ho, but ye chize iss tarah galat hai, as a captain tumhe samajna hoga. Agar first time mujhe kisi ko train karna ya kisi ko guide karne mai samne se interest aaya hai tho wo tumhare liye because tum mai wo dedication hai wo junun hai desh ke liye aur ye 5 saal mai tumne kai baar prove bhi kiya hai, but 1 gati aur ye in saalo ki sari mehnat ke bich aa sakta hai, you know very well what I am talking about.
She nodded, wiping her tears quickly. "Sory Sir, Main kabhi aapko disappoint nahi karungi, Pakka."
"Wahi sunna tha mujhe," Dharam said with a faint smile. "Ab chalo, file kholo. Time waste karna kaafi ho gaya."
As Aashvi opened the file and began the briefing, she felt the tension lift slightly. Dharam's scolding had been harsh, but she knew it came from a place of care. To her, he wasn't just a strict mentor-he was like a father who pushed her to be her best.
For all his sternness, Dharam Singh Rathore believed in her. And she would do everything to prove he wasn't wrong.
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Scene 2: "The Study Partner
In London,
Kavya sat at a table in the university library, surrounded by stacks of medical textbooks and highlighted notes. The bustling campus in London was a stark contrast to her quiet study habits, but she thrived in the solitude of the library. She adjusted her glasses, brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and buried herself in her notes on dermatological disorders.
A shadow fell across her desk.
"Mind if I join?" a familiar voice asked.
Kavya looked up to see Garg standing there, a stack of his own books in hand. He was smiling, but there was a hint of hesitation in his eyes.
"Sure," she said, moving her things to make space.
"Thanks," Garg said, sitting down. "I saw you here yesterday too. You're always this focused?"
Kavya smirked lightly. "Medical school isn't a walk in the park, Garg. If you don't keep up, you'll be buried under the syllabus in no time."
He chuckled. "Noted, Dr. Kavya. I guess I need to adopt your discipline if I want to survive."
"Discipline isn't optional here," she replied, her eyes returning to her notes.
Garg opened his books and began studying, but his gaze kept drifting to Kavya. There was something about her quiet determination that intrigued him.
After a few minutes, he broke the silence. "What are you working on?"
"Skin disorders and treatments," she said without looking up.
"Ah, dermatology. Complicated stuff," Garg said, leaning slightly toward her notes. "Want to teach me? I'm stuck on the basics of this."
Kavya glanced at him, slightly amused. "You expect me to teach you? You'll have to keep up with my speed."
"Challenge accepted," he said with a grin, pulling out his notebook.
---
The first study session was more about Garg asking questions than actually studying. Kavya initially found his interruptions irritating, but his genuine curiosity and easygoing nature started to grow on her. She explained concepts with precision, while he occasionally cracked jokes to lighten the mood.
"Okay, here's a question for you," Kavya said, testing him after an hour. "What's the most common cause of contact dermatitis?"
Garg scratched his head. "Uh... allergic reactions?"
Kavya raised an eyebrow. "Close, but no. Irritant substances like harsh soaps or detergents are the leading cause."
He groaned. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Maybe a little," she admitted with a rare smile.
---
Over the weeks, their study sessions became regular. They met in the library almost every evening, diving into the complexities of their coursework. Garg admired Kavya's ability to simplify even the toughest topics, and Kavya appreciated how Garg's humour kept her from burning out.
One evening, as they packed up their books, Garg said, "You know, Kavya, I wasn't kidding when I said I needed your discipline. You're like the anchor to my chaos."
Kavya paused, taken aback by his sincerity. "And you... you make studying less monotonous," she admitted.
"Well, that's a start," he said, smiling. "Same time tomorrow?"
"Same time tomorrow," she agreed.
As they walked out of the library together, Kavya realized she had started to enjoy Garg's company. She wasn't someone who opened up easily, but something about Garg made her feel comfortable.
For Garg, Kavya wasn't just a study partner-she was someone he genuinely respected and admired. And though he didn't say it out loud, he looked forward to every moment they spent together.
---
Scene 3: "Clashing and Connecting"
In New York,
The common room of their dorm was unusually quiet. Aashvi sat cross-legged on the couch, her laptop balanced on her knees as she typed furiously. Her headphones were on, blocking out the world. She was finalizing a script outline for her next project, her focus unshakable-or so she thought.
Mihir strolled in, a packet of chips in one hand and his phone in the other. He noticed Aashvi's concentrated expression and grinned mischievously. Without a word, he dropped onto the couch beside her, shaking it just enough to make her laptop wobble.
"Mihir!" she snapped, yanking off her headphones and glaring at him. "Can you not?"
"What?" he said innocently, popping a chip into his mouth. "Yeh common room hai. Tumhare bedroom ka extension nahi."
"I'm working," she said through gritted teeth. "Go disturb someone else."
He leaned back, completely unfazed. "You're always working, Aashvi. Don't you ever take a break? Tumhare liye breaks ban hi nahi hai kya?"
"Some of us have deadlines," she shot back. "Unlike you, who seems to have nothing better to do than annoy me."
"Ouch," Mihir said, clutching his chest dramatically. "Your words hurt, you know."
Aashvi rolled her eyes and tried to refocus on her screen, but Mihir wasn't done.
"What are you working on anyway?" he asked, leaning over to peek at her screen.
She snapped the laptop shut. "None of your business."
"Come on," he said with a grin. "Let me read it. Maybe I'll even give you some brilliant ideas."
"You? Brilliant ideas?" she scoffed. "That's a joke."
Mihir feigned offence. "Tum mujhe underestimate karti ho. Genius log zyada dikhte nahi hai."
"More like distractions, hiding in plain sight," she muttered.
He laughed, his carefree attitude somehow chipping away at her irritation. "Okay, okay, I'll stop bothering you. Filhaal ke liye."
"Thank you," she said, relieved.
But instead of leaving, Mihir grabbed his laptop and plopped it onto the coffee table.
"Now what are you doing?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Working," he said, mimicking her tone.
"You? Working? Since when?"
"Since now," he replied with a smirk. "See, I can be serious too."
Aashvi stared at him, half annoyed, half amused. "Fine. Just don't distract me."
They sat in companionable silence for a while, the occasional crunch of Mihir's chips the only sound. Despite herself, Aashvi found her tension easing. There was something oddly comforting about Mihir's presence, even if he drove her crazy most of the time.
As the evening wore on, Mihir suddenly asked, "Why are you so serious all the time, Aashvi?"
She paused, surprised by the question. "Because I have things to prove. To myself, to others."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Fair enough. But kabhi-kabhi chill karna bhi important hai, samjhi?"
She looked at him, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "I'll keep that in mind."
For a brief moment, they simply looked at each other, the teasing banter replaced by something quieter, more genuine. Then Mihir broke the moment with a grin.
"By the way," he said, holding up a chip. "Want one?"
Aashvi rolled her eyes but couldn't help laughing. "You're impossible."
"And you're welcome," he said with a wink.
Though she would never admit it, Aashvi realized that Mihir, in his infuriating way, made her days a little brighter.
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