Meanwhile, in another part of Shimla, Chahat's phone buzzed incessantly. She sighed, hesitant to pick up, but the constant ringing irritated her. Finally, she answered.
"Hello, my dear wife," a voice purred on the other end.
Chahat's grip on the phone tightened.
"Is Shimla so interesting that you forgot about your own husband?"
Chahat rolled her eyes. "I don't have memory loss. And I am not married yet."
The caller chuckled. "Not yet. But soon you will be."
"That 'one day' will never come," she shot back.
"Oh, dreaming is good," he mused. "But daydreaming is even better."
Chahat smirked. "If living inside a dream were an art, you'd be the best trainer."
"If you want," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky tone, "I can train you every day and night—on the bed. Your bed or mine, I'll leave the choice to you."
Chahat clenched her jaw. "F*** you, bastard! Hold your tongue!"
The man laughed. "Love to f*** you, baby."
"Baby? My foot!" she snapped. "I know you've stationed your men around me. Remove them. Right now!"
The caller chuckled darkly. "Oh, you think you can order me? Dream on. Well… actually, yes. You can. But only in bed."
Chahat hung up, her heart pounding. She threw her phone onto the bed, exhaling sharply.
One day, he'll be the death of me. She took a deep breath. Calm down, Chahat. Control your anger.
Somewhere else, a man sat in an office, a faint smirk on his lips.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
"May I come in, sir?"
The man wiped the smirk away, his expression turning neutral. "Come in."
"Sir, you have a meeting in ten minutes."
"Okay. Anything else?"
"No, sir."
"Then leave. I'll be there in a minute."
"Yes, sir."
Meanwhile, Chahat was getting ready for college when Mehendi entered her room. Seeing her, Chahat suddenly remembered the auditions.
"Oh! I forgot! Did you get selected?"
Mehendi smiled mischievously, placing a small box on the table. She turned dramatically. "Guess!"
Chahat's eyes widened. "You got selected?!"
"Yes! I am selected!"
Excitedly, she pushed the box toward Chahat. "Homemade sweet! To celebrate!"
Chahat opened it. "Halwa?"
"Yes, halwa! My grandmother made it."
"Wow!" Chahat grinned. "Are you going to college? Take some and share with your friends."
"Why? Are you not my friend?"
Mehendi laughed.
"Then I'll have some," Chahat said, taking a bite.
"You look really happy today," Chahat observed.
"If a person is a dreamer," Mehendi said, "and they know their dream is about to come true, of course they'll be happy."
"Your dream is to be a singer."
"Yes!"
"But if we keep talking, you'll be late for class."
"True! Bye!"
Later in class, the history teacher looked at the students.
"Everyone should have selected their assignment topics by now. One by one, confirm them."
The students took turns presenting their topics. The teacher cross-checked them and informed them that if they needed changes, they had to inform her soon.
And with that, the day carried on, as dreams and destinies intertwined.