Annoying Aashna: The Deshmukh Way

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It started with a simple email.

From: Dhruvin Deshmukh

To: Aashna Pathak

Subject: Our Date-I mean, Documentary Planning

Hey Aashna,

After much deep thought (and zero effort on your part), I have shortlisted some NGOs for our project. Since I am magnanimous, I'll let you pick, so that when things go wrong, I can blame you.

A shelter for underprivileged kids.

A home for abandoned kids on the road

An orphanage

Also, should I pick you up tomorrow? You know, as a true gentleman? Sure, you'll have to endure my terrible playlist, but I promise the Dhruvin Express is a five-star experience.

Awaiting your gracious response, O Mighty One.

Dhruvin

From: Aashna Pathak

To: Dhruvin Deshmukh

Subject: Stay Professional, Romeo

Dhruvin,

We are going with the first NGO-shelter for underprivileged kids.

No, you are not picking me up. We are not on a road trip. This is work. Be professional.

I refuse to subject myself to your "terrible playlist" under any circumstances.

See you at 10 AM. Do not be late.

Aashna

From: Dhruvin Deshmukh

To: Aashna Pathak

Subject: Such Harsh Words, Pathak

Aashna,

Your loss-I drive like a Bollywood hero (minus the illegal stunts, mostly).

The fact that you're this serious makes me want to annoy you even more.

I'll see you at 10 AM. Try not to miss me too much.

Dhruvin

P.S. I'm bringing laddoos again. Try not to pretend you don't love them.

The Next Morning, for once, Dhruvin was early. He leaned against his bike, dramatically checking his watch every two minutes as if he were the most punctual person alive.

When Aashna finally arrived, dressed in a simple white kurta and jeans, her dark hair in a loose braid, and her jhumkas swaying slightly, he grinned.

"Arre wah! Pathak madam actually came! I was half-expecting an email saying 'plans canceled due to lack of tolerance for your nonsense.'"

Aashna rolled her eyes. "I should have."

"You wound me." Dhruvin clutched his heart. "But don't worry, we're in this together now. Partners in crime."

She shot him a glare. "It's a documentary project. Not Dhoom 4."

Dhruvin smirked. "Tell that to my bike."

Ignoring him, Aashna walked ahead, and Dhruvin followed, shaking his head.The morning had started off on a relatively good note-relatively, because when Dhruvin was involved, things rarely stayed normal for long.

Aashna was already regretting her decision to do this project with him.

She stood in front of a nearly-abandoned building, staring up at its faded signboard with deep suspicion. The place looked like it hadn't seen human activity in years. There were no children, no volunteers bustling around-just silence, dust, and a very shady-looking cat watching them from a broken window.

"This doesn't look right," Aashna muttered, her brows furrowing.

Dhruvin, leaning casually against his bike, checked his phone and shrugged. "Well, this is the address you sent me."

Aashna narrowed her eyes. "No, it's not."

"Yeah, it is." He held up his phone.

She snatched the phone from his hand, skimmed through the address, and immediately groaned.

Dhruvin blinked at the screen, then scratched his head. "Ah." He gave her a sheepish smile. "So technically, this is Google's fault."

Aashna inhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. "No, Dhruvin. This is your fault."

"Agree to disagree." He grinned. "Now, before you kill me, just let me have one last laddoo."

Aashna shot him a glare so sharp it could cut glass.

After an exaggerated death stare (from her) and some silent, nervous laughter (from him), they rushed to the actual NGO-losing a solid thirty minutes of precious time.

By the time they arrived, Aashna was radiating frustration, while Dhruvin strolled in like he owned the place, completely unbothered.

After taking the permission from the NGO authority for the documentary, they started with their work.

Once they had set up their equipment, Aashna turned to Dhruvin with an all-business expression.

"Check the mic levels before we start," she instructed while adjusting the camera.

"Yeah, yeah," Dhruvin waved her off, busy fixing his hair in the reflection of the camera lens. "All good."

Two beautifully shot interviews later, Aashna decided to review the footage, feeling a rare moment of optimism.

That optimism lasted all of five seconds.

Because there was no sound.

Zero.

Silence.

The look on Aashna's face shifted from relief to pure horror. Then she turned to Dhruvin, eyes burning with fury.

"Dhruvin."

Dhruvin, who had been sipping water, froze mid-gulp. "Uh-oh."

"Why is there no sound?"

He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um... funny story..."

Aashna crossed her arms. "I'm waiting."

"I might have forgotten to check the batteries."

She inhaled deeply, muttering something under her breath.

"What was that?" Dhruvin asked cautiously.

"Nothing," Aashna said sweetly. "Just mentally drafting your obituary."

Dhruvin gave her his best innocent smile. "Does it have a nice tribute section?"

She picked up the camera tripod and looked at him as if she were seriously contemplating using it as a weapon.

After fixing the audio disaster (and after Dhruvin received a solid five-minute lecture from Aashna), they finally resumed filming.

This time, Aashna asked meaningful, thought-provoking questions, and Dhruvin captured raw, emotional moments on camera.

For a while, things were going well.

Until the kids decided they had had enough.

One by one, they ran away-right in the middle of a shot.

Dhruvin lowered the camera. "So... uh... this is candid footage, right?"

Aashna let out a deep groan, dragging a hand down her face. "We have lost control of this shoot."

"Correction," Dhruvin smirked. "You lost control. I was never in control to begin with."

She shot him a look that said she was seriously reconsidering her life choices.

Just when they thought things couldn't get worse, the head of the NGO, an imposing woman in her fifties, stormed up to them with an expression that could rival a strict school principal catching students cheating.

"You two!" she snapped, crossing her arms. "What is going on here?"

"Uh..." Dhruvin started. "We're... documenting... um, freedom?"

"Freedom?" The woman's expression did not change.

Aashna, sensing imminent disaster, quickly stepped in, her voice composed. "We're sorry, ma'am. It's our first attempt, and we ran into some... technical difficulties. We'll get everything under control."

The woman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You have one more hour. No more nonsense."

As she walked away, Dhruvin leaned over to Aashna and whispered, "Define 'nonsense.'"

Aashna responded by elbowing him-hard.

By the last hour, they had finally found their rhythm.

Dhruvin, being the natural charmer that he was, distracted the kids with jokes and funny stories, helping them relax in front of the camera. Aashna, ever the perfectionist, handled the interviews, her thoughtful questions drawing out the real emotions from their subjects.

She structured the narrative. He captured the visuals.

She kept things professional. He added the heart.

For the first time, they weren't just tolerating each other.

They were actually working together.

As they packed up, Aashna let out a breath of relief, pushing her hair back. "Despite the disasters, I think we have something good here."

Dhruvin slung the camera bag over his shoulder, grinning. "See? I told you. We make a good team. Admit it."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't push your luck, Deshmukh."

He smirked. "Oh, Pathak. If there's one thing I love doing, it's pushing my luck."

She turned to leave. "Just don't mess up next time."

Dhruvin placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch. No faith in me?"

"None at all."

As she walked away, Dhruvin shook his head, watching her.

There was something about Aashna Pathak-something that made annoying her the highlight of his day.

And he had every intention of doing it again.

❤️❤️❤️

Author's Note

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