The lecture hall buzzed like a fish market on discount day.
Students were chatting, scrolling, throwing paper balls like they were training for the IPL. Just then a paper ball landed on the professor's balding head.
Everyone froze.
Professor: "WHO. DID. THIS?"
Silence.
Not even a pen moved.
And then..
"HAHAHAHAHA"
A loud, unmistakable laugh broke through the silence.
All heads turned.
Standing near the last bench was a girl with big jhumkas, sharp eyeliner and the kind of confidence that could only come from someone who had zero fear of detention.
"Sir," she managed between laughs, "please... it wasn't me, but damn, that aim deserves a trophy!"
The professor narrowed his eyes.
"Name?"
"Ruhi Rathore"
Before he could explode, the girl beside her calmly stood up.
"Sir," she said, voice calm. "She also laughs at crime shows. Don't take it personally."
"And you are?"
"Palak Sinha.You can continue."
The professor sighed, somewhere between tired and traumatised.
"Enough! Settle down. Open your books to page 12."
Kashvi muttered, "Arre yeh toh mera mirror image lagti hai... but with more sarcasm."
(Oh, she looks like my mirror image... but with more sarcasm.)
Divya smirked. "And more attendance."
That two girls were sitting behind Kashvi and Divya...
Kashvi, of course, couldn't resist. She turned halfway in her seat and whispered, "You were the one who laughed na? Respect. Paper ball pe aise toh main bhi nhi hasti."
(You were the one who laughed, right? Respect. Even I wouldn't laugh that much at a paper ball.)
Ruhi beamed "What can I say? Good aim deserves good appreciation."
Divya, who was trying to actually listen to the lecture, sighed. "Kashvi, notes likh le for once?"
(Kashvi, write notes for once?)
Kashvi waved her off. "Friendship ho rahi hai yahan! Notes baad mein print ho jaayenge!"
(Friendship is happening here! Notes can be printed later!)
Ruhi leaned forward dramatically. "Wait, are you two besties?"
Kashvi proudly nodded. "Yup. We're like every duo she is the mature one, I'm the main character."
Palak raised an eyebrow. "Main character in a cartoon show, maybe."
Ruhi gasped. "I like her. We should all hang out."
Kashvi grinned, heart already full. "Great! I was manifesting some new besties anyway."
Divya turned and gave Kashvi a look. "You're supposed to be manifesting good grades."
._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.
The bell rang and books slammed shut. Kashvi stood up.
"Canteen chalo!" she announced like a warrior leading her army. "I'm starving!"
Ruhi stretched "I heard the samosas here are more legendary than the syllabus."
Divya raised a brow." I hope you guys are not planning to put that deep fried cholesterol bomb into your system."
Kashvi dramatically"Dost ho ya dietician? Ek din khayenge toh ICU thodi chale jayenge."
(Are you my friend or my dietician? If we eat it for one day we won't land in the ICU.)
Five minutes later...
The air was thick with steam, laughter, and the glorious smell of fresh samosas.
Ruhi exclaimed in joyment "Yeh dekho Kashvi. Golden-brown samosas. Perfect triangle of happiness."
They each grab a plate of samosas except Divya, who stood with arms crossed, judging the entire food.
"No, thanks. I don't eat oily stuff. And I don't drink chai either."
Three heads turned slowly toward her.
Kashvi gasped so hard her samosa almost fell.
"YOU DON'T DRINK CHAI?!"
Ruhi dramatically "Ma'am, this is India. Not drinking chai is a punishable offence."
Kashvi with fake tears "Yeh dosti toh chai ke bina adhuri hai. I need a moment."
(This friendship is incomplete without tea. I need a moment.)
Ruhi handed her a tissue.
Divya sigh,"overacting ki dukan."
(Shop of overacting)
Palak, the more composed one, picked up her samosa and was just about to take a bite
"WAIT! Wait, wait, wait... rakh do wapis!"
Kashvi's voice sliced through the air.
(Put it back!)
Palak froze mid air.
"Snap toh banane do yaar!" she said, already pulling out her phone. "Itna sundar samosa mila hai, aur tum log bina snap ke kha loge?"
(At least let me take a snap first! We got such a beautiful samosa and you people will eat it without taking a snap?)
Ruhi perked up. "YES! Let's do a flatlay. Samosa top view, chai cup thoda tilt, spoon as prop."
Kashvi placed her samosa gently like it was an artifact.
Divya rolled her eyes. "No one's gonna follow you for posting a samosa, you know."
Ruhi gasped. "Excuse me, this samosa has better lighting than my future."
Kashvi angled her camera. "I'm posting first."
Ruhi snatched Kashvi's plate. "Let me do the honor. Mera aesthetic sense superior hai."
(My aesthetic sense is superior)
And just like that the war begin..
Divya and palak were so done with them..
Kashvi and Ruhi finally clicked their masterpieces, complete with captions like:
"Crispy outside & spicy inside - just like me."
"Soulmate = Samosa 💛"
Then they sat down, dramatically exhausted, like they'd just fought for India's independence.
"Mission accomplished," Ruhi sighed.
Palak nodded sagely. "God save us from food bloggers with no followers."
In the buzzing canteen, two boys were tugging at a cold drink bottle, both refusing to let go.
"Neil, chhor de! Cold drink pehle main piunga!" Saksham whined, tugging at the bottle.
(Neil, let go! I'll drink the cold drink first!)
Neil held it tighter. "Nahi chhorunga. Kya kar lega?" he challenged, smirking.
(I won't let go. What will you do?)
Saksham's grip tightened. "Abe bhai, tera naam likha hai kya is pe?"
(Bro, is your name written on it or what?)
Neil, shrugged cooly."Naam nahi likha, but paisa diya hai. Poore 20 rupees."
(My name isn't written on it, but I paid for it. A full 20 rupees.)
Saksham scoffed. "Toh? Maine bhi 10rs diye the! Tu toh aise bol raha jaise share market mein invest kiya ho!"
(So what? I also paid 10 rupees! You're talking like you invested in the stock market!)
They wrestled playfully just then, Divya walked past them, pushing her hair behind her ear, a faint frown on her face as she looked around for the wash basin.
Neil's grip loosened,not from surrender but distraction.
His eyes found her and everything else blurred into the background.
The noisy chatter, the rustling of wrappers, even Saksham's rants became background noise.
For a moment... it was just her.
The way she walked with quiet confidence. The way her hair swayed against her shoulders. The little crease between her brows as she scanned the canteen.
Neil's heart didn't skip a beat. It skipped a whole paragraph.
A soft smile formed on his lips, unplanned and uninvited. He didn't even realise it.
Meanwhile, Saksham slowly, silently, took the opportunity.
He casually twisted open the cap and in three victorious gulps downed half the bottle.
Divya disappeared into the crowd, unaware of the damage she'd caused.
Neil blinked back to reality and turned.
Only to see Saksham holding the half empty bottle, wiping his mouth with pure satisfaction.
Neil's eyes widened.
"Teri aisi ki taisi!!" he smacked Saksham on the back of his head.
"Teri himmat kaise huyi peene ki!"
(To hell with you!! How dare you drink it!)
"Abey!" Saksham rubbing his head. "Tune maara kaise?!"
(Hey! How dare you hit me?!)
Before Saksham could defend himself, Neil smacked his head again.
"Aise!"
(Like this!)
Saksham lunged. "Ab tu gaya bete!"
(Now you're gone for, buddy!)
And just like that, the Great Cold Drink War turned into WWE.
