Chapter 2

The sun was just beginning to rise as Niharika pulled her car out of the parking lot, Rahil lazily scrolling through his phone in the passenger seat. The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint hum of a city that never truly slept.

"Two interviews in one day. Aren't you the ambitious one?" Rahil teased, glancing at her as she adjusted the rearview mirror.

"Just trying to cover my bases," Niharika replied, focusing on the road. "Microsoft and Google are top picks. If I don't get in, I might have to settle for less."

"Settle for less? Didi, you're overqualified for half the jobs in Dubai."

She smiled faintly, her nerves betraying her calm demeanor. "Let's hope the interviewers think the same."

As the car turned onto the highway, Rahil leaned back in his seat, switching topics. "Do you remember that school trip to Jumeirah Beach? When you forgot your sunscreen and turned into a tomato?"

Niharika laughed. "How could I forget? Everyone made fun of me for days."

"Especially..." Rahil trailed off, smirking.

"Who?" she asked, glancing at him.

"No one," he said quickly, the smirk widening.

"Rahil, spill it."

"Nothing, just someone who—"

His phone buzzed, cutting him off. He checked the screen and groaned. "Great. Group project drama again. These guys can't do anything without me."

Niharika rolled her eyes. "Must be nice to be so indispensable."

He grinned. "What can I say? I'm a big deal."

They reached his university, and Rahil hopped out, throwing her a mock salute. "Good luck, Didi. You'll crush it."

She waved him off, the momentary distraction easing her nerves as she drove to her first interview.

~•~

The Microsoft office loomed large and modern, its sleek glass façade reflecting the Dubai skyline. Niharika straightened her blazer before stepping inside, her heart racing but her resolve firm.

Hours later, she exited the building, her mind buzzing with the rapid-fire questions she had faced. There was no time to dwell on it—Google awaited.

By the time she returned home, exhaustion had begun to set in. She kicked off her heels and sank into the living room couch, her parents watching her expectantly.

"Well?" her father asked.

"It went well," she said with a tired smile. "Hopefully, I get in."

Her mother patted her arm. "You will, beta. We are proud of you. Now, take some rest and then get ready. I've taken out your clothes for evening."

Niharika nodded, knowing that another attempt at trying to avoid today's function would be useless. So, she went to her room to nap.

Meanwhile, Mayank closed his laptop with a satisfied sigh, glancing at the clock. For once, he was ahead of schedule and had the rare luxury of heading home early.

His sleek room overlooked the bustling city, its modern design a reflection of his disciplined lifestyle. He tossed his keys onto the counter and headed to the shower, the warm water washing away the day's stress.

Standing before the mirror, he wiped the steam off the glass, his reflection sharp and confident. His lean frame bore the evidence of years of regular workouts—not bulky, but fit, with a sculpted back that hinted at his athletic past.

The tattoo on the outside of his left arm caught his eye: Hindi script etched beside a bold trishul, a quiet testament to his roots.

After drying off, he slipped into a deep purple kurta, the rich fabric complementing his light brown eyes and mid-brown skin. He ran a hand through his sleek hair, the strands falling effortlessly into place.

Once done, Mayank changed into a purple kurta and its complementing white pant, carefully pressing the fabric to ensure it looked sharp. He stood in front of the mirror for a moment again, running a hand through his sleek hair. His sharp jawline and light brown eyes gave him a striking appearance, and his tall, lean frame was accentuated by the tight fit of his kurta. Satisfied by his look, he headed down.

"You look good." Madhun Datta said.

"He does." His mother added, "Are you ready?"

Mayank nodded, and the Datta family stepped into their car as they drove towards the venue.

~•~

Niharika stood in front of the mirror, taking a steadying breath as she carefully unwrapped the delicate pastel purple lehenga. The soft hues of lavender and lilac shimmered gently under the light, complementing her warm, mid-brown skin. At 5'3", her petite frame moved gracefully as she slid the lehenga skirt up, adjusting the waistband around her waist. The fabric hugged her curves just right, making her feel elegant while concealing the little tummy she often conscious about.

She then lifted the blouse over her head—a beautiful piece that was a delicate balance of tradition and modernity. The blouse, a shade of same shade of light purple, was slightly backless, the fabric just grazing the top of her lower back, giving a hint of allure. The sleeves of the blouse came to a little above her elbow, the soft material embroidered with subtle golden threads that caught the light. The design was simple, yet the modern cut made it feel sophisticated.

As she draped the matching dupatta over her shoulder, she admired how the light purple fabric cascaded down her back, ending at just under her chest, perfectly contrasting with the caramel highlights in her dark brown hair. Her deep, dark brown eyes caught her reflection, framed by a subtle swipe of kajal and mascara that made them appear even more striking. Her subtle lipstick enhanced her lips. She was careful with her makeup, a quiet elegance in the way she chose to accentuate her features—just enough to highlight her natural beauty.

She reached up to adjust the small earrings in her ears—two piercings on each side, simple gold hoops that added a hint of sparkle. Her gaze shifted to her wrist, where the tattoo of a prayer written in Hindi, intertwined with a trishul, rested on her left arm. She smiled at it. It was a mark of her faith and identity, something deeply personal.

With a final adjustment to the dupatta, she took a moment to appreciate her reflection. In the lehenga, Niharika felt both graceful and strong, a perfect balance of tradition and her own quiet confidence. Her eyes glinted with the knowledge that, despite her quiet demeanor, she was ready to face whatever came her way.

~•~

When they arrived at the venue, Niharika stepped out of the car, her lehenga brushing the ground as she moved with a quiet elegance. The scent of incense and the sounds of laughter filled the air, but Niharika's attention was drawn immediately to the magnificent Ganesh idol at the center of the hall.

She walked toward it, the noise around her fading as she focused on the idol, standing in reverence. Closing her eyes, she began to pray softly, her lips moving in sync with the thoughts in her heart. Her hands clasped together in a prayerful pose, the soft fabric of her lehenga shimmering under the light as she stood still, lost in the moment.

What she didn't notice, however, was the man standing beside her—Mayank. He had arrived just a few minutes before, and also, without realizing, positioned himself near the idol. His eyes were closed in prayer, a subtle peace on his face, his thoughts focused entirely on the ritual. Neither of them noticed the other, lost in their own private moments.

Meanwhile, Abhijeet Doshi walked over to his friend, Bharat Gupta. "Bharat!" He exclaimed.

"Abhijeet! Hello! It's been a while!" He said, engulfing his friend in a hug. "How have you been? No calls no nothing!"

"What to do Bhai! Work had been hectic. The quarterly review was going on. It was so tight for everyone. I just got free now."

"Oh, before you continue," Bharat said and looked near him, "This is Madhun Datta. My college friend, who is also settled in Dubai."

Madhun Datta smiled and brought his hand forward to Abhijeet Doshi, "Nice to meet you."

Abhijeet smiled and recuperated by bringing his hand towards Madhun, "Very nice to meet you. I'm Abhijeet. Abhijeet Doshi."

The gentlemen got back into their conversations until a sentence Bharat said caught Madhun's attention. "So, Abhijeet, Niharika is back?"

Abhijeet nodded, "Yes, she is. Just got back yesterday."

"Got back? From where?" Madhun asked.

"Oh," Abhijeet smiled, realizing he needed to fill Madhun in, "Niharika, my daughter, she just got back from California after completing her Masters."

"Oh Wow!" Madhun said, surprised, "Where in California did she study?"

"She studied in UC Berkeley." Abhijeet replied.

Madhun was amazed. He smiled and continued, "My son did his undergraduate studies from UC Berkeley."

"Oh really!" Abhijeet said, "When?"

"He graduated 3 years ago."

Abhijeet, putting the pieces together, quickly replied, "So he's the same age as my daughter. She also graduated from undergraduate studies 3 years ago. Then headed to Masters."

"You don't say!" Madhun added.

"Guys!" Bharat intervened, "You both carry on. I'll just greet someone and be back. Alright?" He smiled and excused himself.

Madhun glanced across the room, and his gaze landed on his son, Mayank, who was still standing near the idol, deep in thought. The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned back to Abhijeet.

"Come, let's sit and talk." Madhun said, leading the way to a nearby table, the conversation already taking a new direction and blossoming a new friendship.

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