𝐀𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐏𝐎𝐕

I looked at Mumma, my brows furrowed in full-blown suspicion.
“Really? Marriage? Is this the big important topic you two were whispering about like high schoolers?”

I crossed my arms against my chest, my expression the dictionary definition of done. Papa and Mumma exchanged a quick guilty glance, and then she sighed and leaned in, clasping her hands together dramatically.

“Anu beta, just listen na!” she pleaded, giving me that sweet, puppy-eyed look she always uses when she knows I’m about to combust.

I rolled my eyes but nodded anyway, flopping down on the sofa like a reluctant teenager.
“Okay, I’m listening. Start.”

Mumma’s face lit up like Diwali. “So, his name is Arjun Singhania. He’s a very successful businessman, beta. Very charming. Every girl is basically drooling over him.”

Her eyes sparkled like she was announcing Ranbir Kapoor was coming to see me with his mummy.

“Okay… so what?” I asked, trying to act unbothered but my tone was already leaning toward irritation.
And before I could blink—

Smack.
A light tap landed on my forehead.

“Mummaaa!” I whined, rubbing the spot while she glared at me.

“Tu meri baat thik se sun bhi sakti hai ya nahi?” she huffed, fully in her ‘I raised you, don’t test me’ mode. “You’re 26, successful, pretty, but no boyfriend! You’ve built your career, now let us build your life, please. Shaadi toh karni hi padegi na ab!”

I gave her a nervous smile, suddenly turning into a puddle of guilt and awkwardness.
“Okay okay, fine. I’ll meet your perfect Arjun Singhania,” I said, adding extra drama to his name for flair.

Mumma’s face broke into the biggest grin, and she instantly grabbed my hands.
“Thank you, beta! You’ve made me sooo happy.” She cupped my cheeks like I’d given her diamonds instead of agreeing to meet a man.

Watching her that ecstatic… I couldn’t help it. My lips curved into a soft smile. It was hilarious, adorable, and kind of heartwarming. Who knew my rishta could bring her this much joy?

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐀𝐫𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕

I stepped out of the shower, steam curling around me like a warm hug. My grey sweatpants clung to my hips, droplets trailing down my bare chest as I ran a towel through my damp hair.

The cold marble floor kissed my feet as I padded toward the bed and pulled on a black sweatshirt, the soft cotton welcoming my skin. Another long day at the office done, now came the real challenge—whatever mission my parents were plotting downstairs.

As I walked into the living room, I found Mumma and Papa sitting on the plush sofa, whispering like schoolkids hiding secrets. The absence of my chatterbox sister made the silence even more suspicious.

I made a pit stop in the kitchen, catching my own reflection in the fridge. Hair tousled, jaw sharp, glasses still on—I looked like the very cover model of CEO Diaries. I smirked at my own ridiculousness, grabbed a water bottle, and took a few sips.

“Arjun beta, come sit with us,” Mumma called sweetly.

I nodded, walked over, and sank into the couch. The warmth of the cushion absorbed my weight as I relaxed beside her.

“How’s work going, Aru?” Papa asked, which was weird. He only asked about work when something else was cooking.

Suspicion activated.

“Going great. Stocks are booming, deals are sealed, expansion is smooth.” I replied proudly, then narrowed my eyes. “Why the sudden interest?”

They exchanged another secret smile.

“Aru, you’re 31 now…” Mumma began gently.

“...And I should get married,” I finished for her with a raised eyebrow. Classic.

Before either of them could respond—

“Bhaaiyaa!!”
The high-pitched squeal belonged to none other than my sister, Tia, who entered like a Bollywood sidekick with perfect comic timing.

“You need to get married! I want a bhabhi,” she teased, plopping beside me with an annoying grin.

“Shut up, Tia,” I muttered, smacking her forehead lightly.

“Kids!” Papa’s stern voice cut in, silencing both of us instantly.

Mumma turned toward me again, her hand resting gently on mine. “Aru beta, just meet her once. Her name is Anvika Malhotra. She’s a really talented fashion designer. Pretty too.”

I sighed, my eyes softening at Mumma’s hopeful expression. She looked older today. And for her sake alone, I nodded.

“Fine. I’ll meet your ‘perfect’ Anvika Malhotra,” I said with a teasing smile.

The way Mumma hugged me—tight and full of warmth—made it worth it. Even Papa smiled and patted my head like I’d agreed to win a war.

“Dekhna, Aru, tujhe Anvika bahut pasand aayegi,” she said, eyes gleaming.

I smiled and nodded. For now.

𝐓 𝐈 𝐌 𝐄  𝐒 𝐊 𝐈 𝐏

I lay curled under my blanket like a burrito, the room dimly lit and humming with the soft whirr of the AC. My phone screen glowed softly as I scrolled through—don’t judge me—Arjun Singhania’s Instagram account.

What? It’s 2025. Of course I’d stalk him online before our rishta meeting. You expected me to wait like a shy dulhan in an old TV serial? Nope.

His bio screamed business tycoon energy. The blue tick winked at me mockingly. “Verified.” Oh right, he’s that rich and famous. Uff.

I scrolled and scrolled… God. That jawline. That black tux photo?? Oh Lord. A smile played on my lips like I was watching a rom-com.

I giggled like a teenager and kicked under the blanket when I realized—no women in any of his posts. Is this a GREEN FLAG moment???

And then—I saw one photo with a girl. My heart stopped. But wait—caption: "With my annoying little sister." OH. THANK GOD.

My entire tummy turned into butterflies and candyfloss.

But then—disaster.

I accidentally followed him.
Wait what?!
NO NO NOOOO!

Panic set in. I was mid-freakout, about to unfollow, when—

Notification: Arjun Singhania has sent you a follow request.

My jaw dropped. I blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. I wasn’t dreaming.

HE SENT ME A REQUEST?

I stared at the screen, heart thudding. Then, like any sane girl, I accepted it and threw my phone across the bed in panic.

A smile still lingered on my lips as I buried my face in the pillow.

𝐀𝐫𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕

I sat on the couch, surrounded by office files, my reading glasses slipping down my nose, and my laptop making soft clicks as I typed away.

The room was quiet, just the sound of the AC and my thoughts.

Once work was done, I stood up and stretched, feeling every bone in my body complain.

I picked up my phone casually. Loads of emails. Notifications.

One stood out.
Instagram: New follower - Anvika Malhotra.

My eyebrow raised. So she followed me first, huh? Bold move.
Curious, I clicked her profile.

Private.

Tch.

I hesitated for exactly two seconds before sending her a follow request. Then I tossed the phone on the nightstand and got into bed.

A few minutes later, buzz.
She accepted it.

I opened her profile. Scrolled.

God, she was gorgeous. Big eyes, that shy smile, and... her design awards? Damn, she’s successful. I found myself smiling again.

I closed the app, kept the phone away, and turned off the lights.

And for the first time in a while, I went to bed thinking about a stranger who didn't feel like a stranger at all.