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We understand that many of you are frustrated and upset about the slow updates. However, we want to remind you that we’ve already communicated that updates will be slow for now. We are currently working on three different books, and we have just three chapters left to complete one of them. Once this book is finished, we will be able to provide more frequent updates.Unfortunately, some readers have started criticizing us without even reading this announcement. It’s disappointing to see such reactions when we’ve already explained the situation. Please remember, we’re not robots; we can’t write all day long. We appreciate your support and are happy that you enjoy our work. We kindly ask for your understanding during this time.Thank you for your patience.

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Krishiv stood outside the quaint ice cream parlour, the warm sun beating down on him as he eyed the delicious array of flavors displayed behind the counter. His mouth watered in anticipation as he waited for his turn. The parlour was a popular spot, and Krishiv had been eagerly waiting for his chance to snag the last of his favorite flavor.

As he approached the counter, the salesman, a middle-aged man with a friendly smile, looked up and said, "I'm sorry, but the last one of that flavor is already spoken for."

Krishiv’s face fell in disappointment. Just then, a little girl beside him, standing on a stool to reach the counter, piped up with a cheerful voice, "I have odled fisht!"

Krishiv glanced at her. She had two pigtails and a water bottle wrapped around her neck, and she was eyeing the ice cream with a look of determination. "Accha? Kab kiya? Mai pehle aaya tha. Bhaiya, give this to me," he said, pointing at the last ice cream.

The girl, placing her hands on her hips and glaring defiantly at Krishiv, said firmly, "I first."

"Jhuthi!" Krishiv retorted, shaking his head. "Bhaiya, isko wo chocolate flavor wala de do."

"You jhutha," the girl countered, her small face scrunched up in a frown. "Me not jhuthi. Mumma told me jhuth bolna ish no good. And bhaiya, I eat that ice cleam. I gave you money fisht," she said, holding out a crumpled note and quickly placing it on the counter.

The salesman, who had been observing the exchange with a bemused smile, stepped in. "Sir, usko le lene dijiye. Aap bhi kyun ek bacchi se jhagad rahe hain."

Krishiv, clearly frustrated, muttered under his breath, "Ye bacchi dikhti hai… dedh phutiya nakchadi Dadi amaa!" His annoyance was palpable.

The girl, now visibly upset, tried to pronounce her counter-argument. "You are nak… nak… chada!" She finally managed to say, grabbing the ice cream from the vendor’s hand with a swift motion. Without another word, she darted out of the parlour, leaving Krishiv fuming.

Amrit descended the grand staircase of Singhania Mansion, her footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floor. The mansion’s opulence was evident in every detail – from the elaborate chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings to the intricate patterns of the rugs underfoot. Her mind was preoccupied with the task at hand, but she was suddenly jolted from her thoughts when she collided with someone ascending the stairs.

The impact was minor but startling, and Amrit stumbled slightly before steadying herself. The man she had bumped into, dressed in a casual yet stylish outfit, shot her an annoyed glance. "Dekh ke chalo bhai!” he said, his tone irritated.

Amrit looked up, her gaze locking with his. A flicker of recognition crossed her mind. She had a nagging sense that she had seen him before but couldn’t quite place him.

"Tum? Kya maine tumhe pehle dekha hai?” Krishiv asked, his eyes narrowing as he tried to remember where he had seen her.

Amrit's brow furrowed in confusion as she studied his face. "Mujhe nahi pata. Shayad," she replied, her voice trailing off.

Krishiv’s expression shifted from irritation to realization. “Ohh haan… you’re that girl, right? Jisne bechare Akshat ko suicide karne se bachaya tha?” He asked, his tone softening with curiosity.

Amrit’s face brightened with recognition and she nodded, a grin spreading across her lips. “Haan, wo main hi hoon.”

Krishiv looked at her with renewed interest. “Yahan kaise aayi?” he inquired, his tone now more friendly.

“Auto se,” Amrit replied simply, though her eyes hinted at a story.

Krishiv raised an eyebrow, realizing there was more to her visit. “Arre… matlab kisi kaam se aayi ho?”

Amrit nodded again, her smile fading slightly. “Haan, wo… my mother works here and she left her mobile at home, so I came to give her that.”

“Ohh ok,” Krishiv said, his tone understanding. He gave her a brief nod before continuing his way up the stairs.

Amrit watched him go and then turned towards the kitchen, her thoughts momentarily distracted by the encounter.

After Amrit left the mansion, Akshat also departed for colleg. In the living room, Krishiv and Vihaan were deeply immersed in an intense video game battle. The large flat-screen TV displayed vibrant game graphics, and the room resonated with the sounds of rapid button-clicking and playful banter between the them.

"Pause kar, mai aata hun pani pee ke," Krishiv announced, putting the game on hold and heading towards the kitchen to quench his thirst.

When Krishiv returned to the living room, he was taken aback by the unexpected sight of a small girl sitting in his spot, clutching the game controller. She was the same little girl he had encountered at the ice cream parlour earlier. Her small frame was perched confidently on the edge of the couch, her pigtails bouncing as she expertly navigated the game. Vihaan sat beside her, clearly amused by the situation.

"Oyee... yahan kya kar rahi ho?" Krishiv exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

At that moment, a woman entered the room, dressed in professional attire and carrying a stack of files. Krishiv instantly recognized her as Kavya Dixit, Vihaan's personal assistant, whom he had briefly met at Vihaan's office. Her demeanor was calm and collected, yet there was a hint of concern in her eyes as she looked at the little girl.

"She is Saumya... urf Bulbul. Daughter of Kavya. Actually, abhi hame ek meeting pe jana tha, and Bulbul ka half day tha school mein, and Kavya was worried, so I asked her to let her stay here until we return back," Vihaan explained, his tone reassuring.

Saumya turned to Krishiv, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You wele following me?" she asked, her voice a mix of accusation and curiosity.

Krishiv blinked, taken aback by the directness of the question. "Excuse me? Why would I follow you?" he responded, clearly perplexed.

"Mumma told bad people follows," Saumya stated matter-of-factly, her expression serious.

Krishiv let out a chuckle. "I am not a KG student that I would follow a small girl like you. If I had to follow someone, I would follow a girl like your mumma," he said, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how they sounded. Both Kavya and Saumya’s eyes widened in surprise.

"I... I mean a girl of her age," he quickly corrected himself, his face flushing slightly with embarrassment.

Saumya, undeterred, lifted her chin proudly. "I no small. Mai big girl hun. I read in class one, so why would a KG student follow me?" she declared, her tone filled with self-assurance.

Krishiv couldn't help but scoff, turning to Vihaan. "Dekha isse? Iss age mein kya kya janti hain madam!" he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Saumya made a face at Krishiv, and he mimicked her expression.

"Stop it, bhai! Bacchi hai wo!" Vihaan said, attempting to keep a straight face.

"Harkatein toh nahi lagti," Krishiv muttered under his breath, though he was clearly amused by the spirited little girl.

"Bulbul, how many times do I have to tell you to behave?" Kavya scolded her daughter gently but firmly, her tone carrying the weight of repeated admonishments.

Saumya, or Bulbul as she was affectionately called, pouted but didn't argue. Just then, Kavya's phone rang, and she excused herself to take the call, stepping out of the room.

Krishiv, still flustered by the little girl's audacity, turned to Vihaan and asked, "Where is her father? Can't he handle her?"

Vihaan's expression turned somber. "Her father doesn't live with her," he said simply.

"Why?" Krishiv pressed, his curiosity piqued.

"I don't know," Vihaan replied, his tone indicating that it was a sensitive subject and one he didn't have all the answers to.

Krishiv sighed, then turned his attention back to Saumya, who was still engrossed in the game. "Oyee, utho udhar se. I was sitting there, and I was playing that. Why are you behind my things?" he demanded, his frustration bubbling over.

Saumya looked up at Vihaan with wide, pleading eyes and a pout. "Kya hai ye sab! She is a kid," Vihaan said, trying to calm the situation.

Just then, Vihaan's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and sighed. "I have to leave for the meeting now. Anika aaye toh usse inform kar dena. Vaise toh I dropped the message but still," he instructed.

"Tu mujhe akela chhor ke jaa raha hai?" Krishiv asked, a hint of panic in his voice.

"Haan… please handle her and play video games with her until I get back," Vihaan said, already gathering his things.

"Handle? That too this little patakha?" Krishiv replied, looking at Saumya, who was now making faces at him.

"Arre, she is really sweet. Thode der ki baat hai phir Maa bhi aa jayengi toh she will be with her. Accha, bye," Vihaan said, patting Krishiv on the back before hurrying out the door.

Krishiv watched Vihaan leave, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. He turned to Saumya, who was still sitting with the game controller in her hands, and let out a deep breath. "Alright, choti si musibat, let's see what you've got," he muttered under his breath.

Saumya grinned, clearly taking his words as a challenge. "I show you how to play," she declared confidently, her earlier pout forgotten.

"You can't win against me," Krishiv declared confidently, settling back into his spot with the game controller in hand.

Saumya, undeterred by his bravado, shot him a determined look. "We'll see about that," she retorted, her small fingers poised over her controller.

The game resumed, and soon enough, the room was filled with the sounds of furious button-mashing and competitive banter. It wasn't long before the playful competition turned into a series of lighthearted accusations.

"You are a cheatel!" Saumya exclaimed, her brows furrowed in concentration as she glared at the screen.

Krishiv glanced at her, his face feigning shock. "You are the cheater! Tum mere hisse ke chips kyun kha rahi thi... mera concentration break karne ke liye na?" he accused, pointing at the half-empty bag of chips between them.

Saumya's eyes widened in protest. "No no... you wele tickling my leg," she countered, her voice rising in defense.

"Cheater Bulbul!" Krishiv shot back, trying to maintain his mock stern expression but failing as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Cheater uncle!" Saumya retorted, not missing a beat.

Krishiv leaned closer, his tone both serious and playful. "One more time. Don't you dare to cheat!" he warned, wagging a finger at her.

"Same to you," Saumya replied, her voice firm and her eyes twinkling with mischief.

**************************************

Meanwhile, at the college, Akshat was about to enter his classroom. His mind was preoccupied with the lesson he was about to teach when suddenly, Amrit came running down the hallway, breathing heavily. She collided with him just as he was about to step inside. Akshat closed his eyes, trying to mask his frustration.

"Good morning, sir," she panted, trying to catch her breath.

Akshat gave a terse nod and turned to enter the classroom, but Amrit moved at the same time, causing them to awkwardly bump into each other again. They both stopped, momentarily caught in a dance of indecision.

Akshat rolled his eyes and stepped back. "Jaiye... pehle aap hi chali jaiye," he said, his voice edged with irritation.

["Just go inside."]

"Sorry, sir," Amrit apologized, stepping back as well.

"Stupid!" he muttered under his breath, brushing past her as he finally entered the classroom.

Amrit followed a few steps behind, her cheeks flushed not just from running but also from the embarrassment of the encounter. She spotted her friend Vidya, who was saving a seat for her, and quickly made her way over.

"Kya ho gaya?" Vidya asked, concern and curiosity mingling in her voice.

["What's wrong?"]

Amrit huffed, her frustration evident. "Sara din sade huye kadoo si shakal banaye rehte hain!" she exclaimed, referring to Akshat. Vidya couldn't help but chuckle at her friend's colorful description.

["Why he always talks like this?"]

Their giggles, however, did not go unnoticed. Akshat, who had just started addressing the class, paused and looked directly at them. "Aap dono ko hasi titoli ho gayi ho toh shall we proceed?" he asked, his tone sharp and eyes narrowing at Amrit and Vidya.

["If your laughter session is done, shall we proceed?"]

The room fell silent as the students turned to look at the pair, waiting to see how they would respond. Amrit's face flushed with embarrassment, and she quickly straightened up in her seat, nudging Vidya to do the same.

"Sorry, sir," Amrit mumbled, lowering her eyes.

Vidya, trying to suppress her remaining laughter, nodded apologetically. "Sorry, sir."

Akshat, still holding their gaze for a moment longer, finally sighed and turned back to the board. "Alright, let's begin today's lesson," he said, his voice regaining its usual authoritative tone.

"So students" Akshat started, his voice calm and steady. "Today, we're going to delve into the intricacies of literary theory and criticism, beginning with structuralism and post-structuralism."

He wrote 'Structuralism and Post-Structuralism' on the board and turned back to face the class. "Structuralism, as many of you know, focuses on understanding the underlying structures that govern texts. It views literature through a lens of language, culture, and society. Can anyone explain what this means in practical terms?"

Silence filled the classroom as the students avoided his gaze, some fidgeting in their seats, others pretending to be engrossed in their notes. Akshat’s eyes moved from one student to another, hoping for someone to raise their hand. Just then, his gaze fell on Amrit, who was completely engrossed in whatever was happening outside the window.

"Miss Amrit Tripathi," Akshat called out, his voice firm. But she didn’t respond, her attention still fixed on the scene outside.

Frustrated, Akshat snapped the piece of chalk in his hand into two and, with a quick flick, threw one piece at Amrit. The chalk sailed across the room and hit her squarely on the forehead.

“Ouch!” Amrit exclaimed, rubbing her forehead and turning back to face the classroom, her expression a mix of surprise and pain.

The class erupted in muffled laughter, with a few students unable to contain their amusement. Akshat crossed his arms, his stern expression directed at Amrit.

"Amrit, I think outside scenery is more interesting and important than my lectures right?," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Amrit’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she realized all eyes were on her.

"Keep your all attention here. I don't want any of my students to divert their attention during my lecture.” Akshat said strictly and Amrit nodded. “So anyone who wants to answer my previous question, raise your hand.” Akash again focused on his class.

A student in the front row raised her hand. "Sir, it means looking at the text as a system of signs and understanding how these signs function together to create meaning."

"Exactly," Akshat nodded approvingly. "Structuralists, like Ferdinand de Saussure, argue that meaning is produced through the relationship between these signs. For instance, the meaning of a word is derived not just from its own sound or appearance, but from its contrast with other words.”

He saw students looking at his face, expectantly waiting for instructions. “Open your books,” Akshat commanded with authority.

There was a shuffle of pages as everyone hurriedly opened their books.

“Sab apna apna dekho,” Akshat said, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

["Everyone look at their own."]

“Kya?” Vidya whispered to Amrit, stifling a giggle. Her laugh, however, escaped loudly.

["What?"]

Akshat's eyes narrowed. “Ohh, I think mera sense of humor itna acha hai ki aapko itni zor ki hasi aa gayi,” he said, glaring at Vidya.

["I think my sense of humour is too good that you laughed out loud."]

Amrit quickly stood up from her seat. “No sir, actually I—”

“Get out,” Akshat interrupted, his voice cutting through the classroom like a knife.

“Sorry sir,” Amrit pleaded, her face flushed with embarrassment.

“I already warned everyone in my first lecture that I don't want any kind of disturbance. Now please don’t waste my time and get out,” Akshat said strictly, his patience visibly thinning.

“Sir, ye hasai mujhe,” Amrit said, pointing at Vidya, who looked back at her, making a face.

“Dusht aurat!” Vidya muttered under her breath.

["Evil woman."]

“Ohh, aapki friend ko bhi kahiye bahar jaa ke apna comedy show chalayen. Main Kapil Sharma nahi hu aur na hi ye Kapil Sharma show chal raha hai jo yahan baith ke stand-up comedy ho rahi hai,” Akshat retorted, his sarcasm biting.

["Ohh, tell your friend to take her comedy show outside. I’m not Kapil Sharma, and this isn’t the Kapil Sharma Show where you can sit and do stand-up comedy here."]

"Par baith ke standup comedy kaise hogi!" Vidya whispered to Amrit who just nudged her with her elbow.

Vidya also nudged Amrit. “Chal behan, chalte hain. Varna aur bejati hogi,” she said quietly.

Akshat, hearing the exchange, snapped, “Oo, Motu Patlu ki jodi, kya panchayat ho rahi hai? Ab special car bheju kya bahar nikalne ke liye?”

["Oh, Motu-Patlu duo, what kind of meeting is happening here? Should I send a special car you to leave?"]

“Tujhe sir Motu bole,” Vidya said, giggling softly.

["He called you fat."]

“Haan, aur tujhe Patlu,” Amrit added with a smirk.

["And he called you "]

"Ma'am, please bahar nikaliye,” Akshat said, showing his hand towards the door, his patience clearly at its limit.

They both grabbed their bags and walked out of the class.

“Oyyee, kahan jaa rahi hai?” Amrit asked Vidya, who was walking away.

["Where are you going?"]

“Sir ne to nikal diya na, to ham koi school me nahi hain jo punishment mili hai to hath upar kar ke bahar khade rahe.” Vidya explained, her voice carrying a tone of rebellious pride.

["The sir has already sent us out, so we're not in school where we have to stand outside with our hands up as punishment."]

"We can still study from here, why miss such a good professor's lecture unnecessarily?" Amrit said, pointing to the classroom window.

“Sir bhaga denge,” Vidya cautioned.

“He ordered us to leave the class, not to stop attending it.Tu idhar aa,” Amrit said, pulling Vidya towards the classroom window.

Inside, Akshat moved to the side of the room, gesturing to the board. “Now, let's transition to post-structuralism, which emerged as a reaction against structuralism. Post-structuralists argue that meaning is not fixed but rather fluid and constantly shifting. Jacques Derrida's concept of 'deconstruction' is central here. Who can explain what deconstruction entails?”

His eyes fell on the window, spotting Vidya and Amrit standing there. His irritation flared again.

"What did I tell you both?" Akshat said, his voice tinged with annoyance.

“Sir, aapne class se jane ko kaha, college se nahi,” Amrit replied, her tone defiant. Akshat rolled his eyes, exasperated.

["Sir you asked us to leave the class, not college."]

“So, does anyone have an answer to my question?” Akshat asked again, trying to regain focus from the class.

“Sir, I have,” Amrit said, raising her hand from the window. Akshat closed his eyes in irritation but nodded for her to continue.

“Boliye” Akshat said, reluctantly giving her the floor.

["Speak."]

Amrit, eager to contribute, said, “Sir, deconstruction involves analyzing texts to reveal multiple, often contradictory, meanings. It shows how texts can undermine their own assumptions.”

"Hmm, good," Akshat said, nodding in approval. "Derrida believed that texts are rife with instability, and that language can never fully capture reality. This leads to an endless play of meanings, which can be uncovered through close reading.”

"Sir, can we come in now? It won't happen again next time." Amrit requested, her voice softer now, almost pleading.

“Ok, come inside but this is the last warning. Agli baar aisa hua to ek hafte tak class me entry nahi milegi, bahar hi khadi ho kar padhna dono,” Akshat warned, his tone brooking no argument. Both girls nodded vigorously.

["If this happens again, you both will have to stand outside and study for a week without entering the class."]

They came inside and quickly took their seats, their heads bowed. Akshat continued his lecture, his eyes occasionally darting to them, making sure they behaved.

**************************************

Nandini walked into Mathur Hospital, a modern and well-kept building with a calm atmosphere. Inside, the lobby was spacious, with comfortable chairs and a reception desk where a nurse greeted her.

“Yahan mujhe Preetu ke wajah se checkup par discount na milta to kabhi uss saste Kabir Singh ke hospital me na aati,” Nandini muttered to herself as she walked inside.

["If I hadn’t received a discount for Preetu, I would never have come to this cheap Kabir Singh’s hospital."]

“Excuse me, I want to meet Doctor Vedant Mathur,” she said to the receptionist.

“Ma'am, please wait. He is busy with some patients,” the receptionist replied.

“Kitna time lagega?” Nandini asked, impatience creeping into her voice.

["How long it will take?"]

“Half an hour, I think,” the receptionist replied.

After half an hour, Nandini entered Vedant's cabin.

“Come, sit,” he said, gesturing to the chair in front of him. Nandini sat down.

“Problem kya hai tumhari?” Vedant asked, looking at her expectantly.

["What is your problem?"]

“What do you mean by that? Main apna checkup karvane aayi hun to isme aapko problem lag rahi hai,” Nandini snapped, misunderstanding his question.

[“I’ve come here for my check-up, so why do you have a problem with that?”]

“Dimaag ghar pe chhodh ke aayi ho kya? Main puch raha hun kya hua hai,” Vedant said, his patience thinning.

[“Did you leave your brain at home? I’m asking what happened.”]

“Ohh, sorry. Wo aap hamesha mujhe sunate rehte hain na to I thought ki…” Nandini trailed off, feeling embarrassed.

“Sochti bahot hain aap. Par ek minute. Main koi psychiatrist nahi hun. I think tumhe confusion ho gayi hai,” Vedant said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

[“You think a lot… but wait a minute. I’m not a psychiatrist. I think you’re confused.”]

“Excuse me?” Nandini said, taken aback.

“Yaa, I mean tumhe to dimag ke doctor ke paas jana tha na. Actually, main tumhe do best dimag ke doctor ka number deta hun. They will sort it out ki tumhe actually me konsa pagalpan ka daura padta hai,” Vedant said, trying to suppress a smile.

[“Yeah, I mean, you should have gone to a mental health specialist. Actually, I’ll give you the contact details of the two best mental health doctors. They’ll figure out what exactly is going on with you.”]

“Aap honge pagal,” Nandini retorted.

["You are mad."]

“Haan, ye bhi ek problem hai. Ek pagal hi samne wale insaan ko pagal kehta hai. To tum dono ka number lelo. Agar ek doctor tumhara ilaaz karte hue pagal na ho gaya to doosra wala dekh lega. Aur wo bhi bhag gaya to tum mujhe batana. Main foreign se acha psychiatrist ko specially tumhare liye bulva lunga. Ab tum mom ki best friend jo ho,” Vedant said, his tone teasing.

[“Yes, that’s a problem too. Only a mad person calls another person mad. So take both of their numbers. If one doctor goes crazy while treating you, the other one will take care of it. And if he runs away too, let me know. I’ll get a top psychiatrist from abroad just for you, since you’re my mom’s best friend.”]

“Dekhiye, main yahan apni beizzati karvane nahi aayi hun,” Nandini said, standing up angrily.

[“Look, I didn’t come here to be insulted.”]

“Ohh, to aap apni beizzati karvane jaanti kahan hain?” Vedant shot back.

["Oh, so you know where to go for getting insulted?"]

“Enough! Mujhe fever hai itna jada aur aapko mazak soojh raha hai. Main jaa rahi hun,” Nandini said, turning on her heel to leave.But as she took a step, a wave of dizziness washed over her.

["I have a high fever and you're making jokes. I'm leaving."]

Her vision blurred, and she felt herself tipping forward. Before she could hit the ground, Vedant's strong hand caught hers.

In one swift motion, he pulled her close, her unconscious body collapsing into his arms.Vedant's heart pounded as he looked down at Nandini, her face peaceful and serene despite the fever.

He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his gaze softening. The argument was forgotten, replaced by a deep concern and a flicker of emotions he had kept buried.

He carefully lifted her, placing her on the examination table. As he checked her vitals, his fingers lingered on her skin, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Oh God, she has a high fever... Mai bhi na, mujhe isse gussa dilana nahi chahiye tha... Pata nahi tha isse itna fever hai," Vedant muttered to himself, regret evident in his voice.

["Oh God, she has a high fever... I shouldn’t have made her angry. I didn’t realize she had such a high fever."]

He quickly sprinkled some water on her face. "Nandini, open your eyes," he urged gently.

Nandini fluttered her eyes open, her vision slowly coming into focus. "Hmm," she murmured weakly.

Vedant was sitting near her, his face lined with concern. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked softly.

"Mm-hmm," she nodded, trying to sit up.

"Tumhe itna fever hai, mujhe bataya kyun nahi," Vedant chided gently.

["You didn't told me that you have high fever!"]

"Yahan pe mai doctor doctor khelne toh nahi aayi thi! Kuch hua hoga tabhi aayi. But you didn't even heard me." Nandini replied, rolling her eyes despite her weakness.

["I didn’t come here to play doctor! I came because something was wrong. But you didn’t even listen to me."]

"Sorry," Vedant said, his tone filled with guilt.

"Itna bada jhatka mat dijiye ki mai khushi aur sadme se mar hi jaun," Nandini retorted.

["Don’t give me such a big shock that I end up dying from happiness and sorrow."]

"Shut up," Vedant said, shaking his head with a small smile and asked, "Abhi kitne din hue fever ko?"

[“It's been how many days since you’ve had the fever?”]

"Do din," Nandini replied.

[Two days.]

"Oh, I think it's viral... But still, I’m writing some tests for you. Please come and get these tests done tomorrow morning in case there’s any other problem. I’m also prescribing some medication and an energy drink." Vedant said, writing a prescription.

She took the paper from him, examining it with mock seriousness. "Wow, what a handwriting... I know you're a doctor, but there's no need to prove it by writing like this," she teased, standing up to leave.

As she turned to go, she added, "Vaise aapne kaha na ki jo pagal hota wo samne wale insaan ko bhi pagal samjhta hai... To aapne pehle mujhe pagal bola iska matlab aap hi pagal hain."

["You said that a crazy person thinks everyone else is crazy too... So if you called me crazy first, it means you must be the one who's crazy."]

Vedant glared at her playfully, but his expression quickly turned serious when he saw her swaying on her feet. He rushed towards her, catching her arm to steady her. "Tum akele mat jao, raste me kuch ho gaya to mummy mujhe hi bolengi. Mai drop kar deta hun," Vedant insisted.

["Don't go alone; if something happens on the way, Mom will blame me. Let me drop you off."]

"Yes, and please buy these medicines also. I'm not feeling well and don't have the strength to walk much." Nandini said with a weak smile.

Vedant nodded, his concern for her outweighing any lingering frustration. "Hmm let's Go.” he said, guiding her carefully out of the clinic.

**************************************

In the college garden, Amrit and Vidya walked together, enjoying the warm afternoon.

"Tu mujhe yaha kyu lekar aayi hai?" Amrit asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

["Why did you brought me here?"]

"Wo dekh mangoes," Vidya said, pointing to a nearby tree laden with ripe mangoes.

"So what?" Amrit replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Arre, tera man nahi ho raha khane ka? Mast namak laga kar," Vidya suggested with a grin.

["Oh, you don't feel like eating? Add some more salt and it'll be delicious."]

"Ho to raha hai, par kya kar sakte hain? Ham khareed lenge," Amrit said pragmatically.

["It's happening, but what can we do? We'll just buy it."]

"Jab free me mil rahe toh kyun waste karne hain paise?" Vidya countered.

["Why spend money when we're getting it for free?"]

"So will you climb the tree?" Amrit asked, skeptical.

"Actually, tujhe to pata hai na mera class 8th me fracture hue pair ke bare me," Vidya reminded her.

["Actually, you know about my fractured leg in 8th grade, right?"]

"Haan… iska matlab mai...no no no no." Amrit quickly declined.

"Please yaar, please kar de na… please," Vidya pleaded, giving her best puppy eyes.

"Nahi yaar, mujhe sharam aati hai. Agar koi dekh lega to?" Amrit hesitated.

["I feel weird. What if someone saw me?"]

"Arre, koi nahi hai tabhi to aaye… Guard uncle bhi nahi aaye. Aaj to mauka acha hai," Vidya reassured her.

["Oh, there's no one here, that's why I came. Even the guard uncle isn't here. Today's a good opportunity."]

After much coaxing, Amrit finally agreed. She climbed the tree with surprising agility.

"Throw from there. I will pick them from ground," Vidya instructed.

"Haan," Amrit said, starting to pluck mangoes and tossing them down.

Just then, Vidya's eyes fell on Akshat, who was walking toward them, busy on a call.

"Ohh shit… Amrit, sir aa rahe hain! Tu wahi chup ke baithi rehna," Vidya whispered urgently, hiding behind the tree. But Amrit didn't hear her.

["Amrit, Akshat sir is coming. Please hide there only."]

Akshat, still on the phone, stood directly under the tree. Suddenly, two mangoes fell on his head.

"Ouchh!" he exclaimed, rubbing his head.

"Hey bhagwan, ye ladki… meri hi galti hai isko chadha diya… Amrit behri hai kya," Vidya muttered to herself.

["Oh God! Is this girl deaf!"]

"Who is that?" Akshat shouted, looking up. His eyes widened as he recognized her. "Amrit! Come down now!"

Amrit looked down, her eyes widening in shock. Her foot slipped, and she started to fall, but Akshat quickly moved to catch her.

He set her down gently but couldn't hide his anger. "Pagal ho gayi ho kya? Bewakoofi ka ek mauka nahi chhodhti. Upar kya kar rahi thi? Agar gir jati, haddi toot jati to sara blame college par aata," Akshat scolded her.

["Are you crazy? You don't miss a chance to be foolish. What were you doing up there? If you had fallen and broken a bone, the blame would have fallen on the college."]

Feeling embarrassed and upset, Amrit ran off without saying a word.

"What the hell!" Akshat muttered, still irritated, and walked away.

Vidya ran after Amrit, her heart pounding with worry for her friend.

"Tu pagal hai kya? Maine bataya tha, behri ho gayi thi kya?" Vidya exclaimed, her face flushed with frustration.

["I told you that he is there."]

"You forced me to climb," Amrit shot back, her expression unamused and annoyed.

"Toh meko sapna thodi aaya tha ki sir aa jayenge," Vidya defended herself, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

["So, it wasn't like I dreamt that sir would come."]

"Unke sar pe 3-4 mangoes gira diya maine. Unhe lagi hogi na," Amrit said, her voice tinged with guilt as she replayed the scene in her head.

["I dropped 3-4 mangoes on his head. It must have hurt him."]

"Behen bomb nahi giraya! Aam hi the. But you should have apologise to him atleast, par tu pagal jaise bhag aayi," Vidya pointed out, her tone a mix of scolding and concern.

["You haven't dropped any bomb on him."]

"Haan yaar, at least sorry bol kar aana chahiye tha," Amrit admitted, her shoulders slumping as the realization hit her.

["I should have said sorry ."]

"Haan wahi na," Vidya agreed, nodding emphatically.

"Mai sorry bolkar aati hun," Amrit decided, determination flickering in her eyes.

"Mai bhi chalti hun," Vidya offered, ready to support her friend.

"Pagal, tum na jao. Unko phir se lagega ham dono milkar ulta seedha kaam karte hain. Phir koi punishment na mil jaye," Amrit warned, her voice low and serious. She took a deep breath and walked towards Akshat's cabin, her heart pounding with every step.

["Don’t go. They might think we’re up to mischief together again. We might get punished."]

Reaching the cabin door, she knocked lightly before entering. "May I come in, sir?" Amrit asked, her voice tentative.

Akshat looked up from his desk, noticing her foot already inside. "Come in," he said, rolling his eyes in mild irritation.

"Sir, wo..." Amrit began, her voice trembling slightly.

"Kya kaam hai?" Akshat interrupted, his tone sharp and impatient.

["What's the matter?"]

"Wo, sorry bolna tha," Amrit said, her eyes meeting his for a moment before looking down.

["I wanted to say sorry."]

"Acha, bolo," Akshat said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

["Say it."]

"Sorry," Amrit said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Bol diya?" Akshat asked, his eyebrows raised.

["Did you say that?"]

"Haan," Amrit confirmed, nodding slightly.

["Yes."]

"Ab niklo," Akshat said, waving his hand dismissively.

["Now get out."]

"Aapne maaf kar diya?" Amrit asked hesitantly, her eyes pleading.

["Did you forgave me?"]

"Amrit, tumne apni harkatein sahi nahi ki na to mai sahi nahi karunga tumhare sath. Agli baar aisi paglon wali ulti seedhi harkat nahi honi chahiye mere college me," Akshat warned, his voice firm and eyes piercing.

["Amrit, if you don't correct your behavior, I won't treat you well either. Such foolish and absurd actions should not happen in my college again."]

"Ok sir, aap maaf kar diye na, boliye haan," Amrit pressed, her voice tinged with desperation.

["Say that I am forgiven."]

"Kal test hai, yaad hai na?" Akshat reminded her, his tone softer but still authoritative.

["Tomorrow is your test. Remember?"]

"Yes sir," Amrit replied, nodding vigorously.

"Test me absent hui ya marks kharab aaye to dekhna tum. Tumhari mummy ko complain karunga tumhari ye harkat ke bare me," Akshat threatened, his voice low and serious.

["If you are absent from the test or get bad marks, just wait. I will complain to your mom about your behavior."]

"Sorry sir," Amrit said again,

"Now leave," Akshat ordered, his hand gesturing towards the door.

Amrit quickly exited the room, feeling both relieved and embarrassed.

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Amrit's daily routine - Uthna, college jana, Akshat ke hathon beizzat hona💀🖐️.

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