You can't always predict how a day will turn out or how people will treat you. Sometimes, the best strategy is to just take it with a pinch of salt and keep moving forward.

The high-pitched scratching of chalk against the blackboard filled the quiet room. KDP sir was in the middle of a serious, high-stakes Mathematics lecture, breaking down complex calculus formulas with extreme intensity.

But in the middle row, completely oblivious to the academic storm, sat Riya-the undisputed, iconic sleeper of the CSE department. Sitting snugly between Isha and Purvi, Riya's head was drooping dangerously low, her eyelids glued shut as she drifted into a deep, peaceful slumber.

Purvi's eyes suddenly darted toward the podium, and her heart skipped a beat. KDP sir's sharp gaze had just locked directly onto their bench.

"Riya! Ut ja yaar! (Wake up, friend!)" Purvi whispered frantically, violently pinching Riya's arm under the desk.
Riya merely swat at Purvi's hand like a fly, letting out a soft, sleepy grumble, refusing to open her eyes.

Isha turned her head, her eyes widening in pure panic as she noticed KDP sir stopping mid-sentence and slowly stepping down from the podium.

"Aree Kumbhakarni, ut ja! Sir idhar hi aa rahe hain! (Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up! Sir is coming right this way!)" Isha hissed under her breath.

It was too late. KDP sir stopped right in front of their desk. His expression was thunderous. He leaned forward and slammed his open palm down onto the wooden tabletop, creating a loud, echoing crack that vibrated through the entire classroom.

SMACK!

Riya gasped, her body jolting upright as her eyes snapped wide open, her heart hammering against her ribs. She blinked rapidly, suddenly face-to-face with an incredibly furious professor.

"My blood boils when I see people sleeping like this in a serious lecture!" KDP sir roared, his voice echoing off the walls. "A professor's interest to teach completely dies when such careless students exist in the classroom! Get lost from my class! Out!"

Riya didn't dare say a word. Swallowing hard, she quietly gathered her pen, stood up under the watchful eyes of sixty snickering students, and silently walked out of the classroom to spend the rest of the hour in the corridor.

The moment the bell rang for the break, Riya slithered back into the classroom, slumping onto her seat with a dramatic, heavy pout.

Isha and Purvi turned to her immediately. "Aree yaar, we tried so hard to wake you up! Par maharani ko sone ki chul hai, kya hi karein?
(But our queen here was just dying to sleep, what could we even do?)" Purvi said, half-amused and half-exasperated.

Riya groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Aree yaar, kal poori raat jaag kar First Frost Chinese drama complete kiya hai! class mein thodi to neend aayegi na?

(Oh come on, guys! I stayed up the entire night to finish watching the Chinese drama First Frost! Obviously, I'm going to feel a little sleepy during a boring lecture!)"

She then rolled her eyes, her classic sassy attitude returning. "Aur waise bhi, yeh KDP sir ne kya kya bola? 'Blood boil'! Blood ko flow hote suna hai, yeh boil kya hai? Jaise ki woh khud kisi stove par baithe hain!

(And anyway, what was all that nonsense KDP sir was spitting? 'Blood boil'! I've heard of blood flowing, but what on earth is boiling? It's like he's sitting on a kitchen stove himself!)"

Isha burst out laughing, nudging her. "Tumhara kuch nahi ho sakta, Riya.
(You are completely hopeless, Riya.)"

As the weeks rolled on, the relaxed atmosphere of the college vanished, completely replaced by the heavy, suffocating anxiety of the upcoming First Semester Exams.

The entire environment transformed into a chaotic frenzy of pending assignments, complex programming tutorials, and endless lab record submissions.

Naturally, Isha, being the dedicated padaku bachchi (nerdy girl) of the group, was always the very first person to flawlessly complete every single tutorial and record notebook.

Because of this, she unwittingly became the ultimate savior for the entire classroom.

The students had recently formed an unofficial 'CSE S1' WhatsApp group, exchanging phone numbers to coordinate notes.

Isha was the mastermind creator who wrote down the flawless assignments, while Riya acted as the official operations manager and document scanner-expertly scanning Isha's pages, converting them into neat PDFs, and dropping them into the group chat for everyone to shamelessly copy.

Amidst this academic madness, personal equations were rapidly evolving. Purvi and Akshat had become practically inseparable. Whether it was grabbing lunch together at the campus canteen or organizing long hours of combined study sessions in the library, the two of them were always seen spending every spare minute in each other's company, their bright smiles giving away the unspoken chemistry brewing between them.

And then, finally, the dreaded semester exam results were formally announced.
When the PDF list uploaded, a collective gasp went through the group. Shivansh had topped the entire batch, clinching the number one spot, while Isha came in a very close second.

Isha stared at the screen, a quiet wave of disappointment washing over her. Since Class 9, she had always been the undisputed topper girl, the one who effortlessly secured the first rank. Losing her streak stung.

However, taking a deep breath, she took the result with a mature pinch of salt. She looked across the room at Shivansh, quietly deciding that she would channel this feeling into a healthy, spirited academic competition for the next semester.

With the stress of exams officially behind them, the campus breathed a sigh of relief as the annual PVK College Cultural Fest was announced.

The entire department was buzzing with excitement, and Ragini mam, the enthusiastic cultural department in-charge, was walking around the classrooms holding a clipboard to collect names for various competitions.

Initially, Isha wasn't interested at all. After coming second in the exams, her mind was completely hyper-focused on locking herself in her room and studying harder for the next semester.

But Riya wasn't having it. Knowing exactly how incredibly talented her best friend was, she grabbed Isha's arm, shaking her.

"Tum pagal ho kya? Tumhe participate karna hi padega! (Are you crazy? You absolutely have to participate!)" Riya demanded.

Purvi chimed in eagerly, "Yes, Isha! Please, you have to sing. We won't take no for an answer!"

Worn down by their relentless, loving pressure , Isha finally relented with a soft smile. "Okay, fine, mein bhi karungi participate. (Okay, fine, I will participate too.)"

The grand day of the cultural fest arrived, and the campus auditorium was packed to the brim with students, professors, and cheering crowds.

When Isha's name was announced, she stepped onto the stage, the bright spotlights reflecting beautifully against the timeless aura she carried. She took a deep breath, held the microphone, and closed her eyes.

As the background melody kicked in, she began to sing the soulful tracks of Teri Galliyan:

yahi doobe din mere
yahi hote hai savere
yahi marna aur jeena
yahi mandir aur madeena
yahi doobe din mere
yahi hote hai savere
yahi marna aur jeena
yahi mandir aur madeena

teri galiya galliya teri, galliya
mujhko bhaavein galiya, teri galliya
teri galiyagaliya teri, galliya
yuhi tadpave, galliya teri, galliya

The moment the notes left her lips, a magical silence fell over the entire auditorium. Her voice was pure velvet, laced with a raw, emotional depth that held everyone completely spellbound.

Down in the front rows, Shivansh sat entirely frozen. His eyes were wide, fixed completely on Isha, his heart skipping a beat as he listened to her sing.

He had known her as the composed, disciplined academic competitor, but seeing her command the stage like a professional artist left him utterly captivated.

When the song ended, the auditorium erupted into a deafening roar of applause and standing ovations. To absolutely no one's surprise, Isha comfortably walked away with the First Prize trophy.

Later that night, while Isha was sitting on her bed brushing through her hair, her phone vibrated with a WhatsApp notification from an unsaved number. She unlocked her screen and blinked in surprise. It was Shivansh.

Shivansh: Hello Shivansh, This side!
You sing really well. Seriously, it felt as if you are a professional singer.

Isha's lips curved into a genuine smile as she typed back.

Isha: Thank you!

Shivansh: And how were you so good at it? Did you actually learn music professionally?

Isha: Yeah, actually I did a diploma in Carnatic music. I absolutely love music and singing.

Shivansh: Oh wow... how many hidden talents do you have, topper girl? 😄

Isha chuckled softly, her competitive side slipping out.

Isha: Yeah, but this time you have topped the batch na, topper kid. You completely took my place 😤

Shivansh: Oho... you also came second na. We both are toppers, don't worry. And honestly, there was just a minute difference in our scores anyway.

Isha's fingers paused over the keyboard, her curiosity piqued.

Isha: Wait, how did you know my exact scores?

Shivansh: I just got to know when Riya was flexing your marks to literally everyone in the corridor.

Isha facepalmed, letting out a loud groan.

Isha: Oho, this Riya! I swear, she always does these things.

Shivansh: Haha, she's proud of you. By the way, are you and Riya childhood friends?

Isha: Yes, we are. She has been my bestie since Class 9 and she is the major support system in my life.

Shivansh: That's really sweet.

Sensing the conversation stretching into late hours and wanting to keep her boundaries intact, Isha decided to wrap it up smoothly.

Isha: Yeah. Anyway, see you soon at college. Good night!

Shivansh: Good night!

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Shivansh stared at his blank phone screen for a long moment. A soft, involuntary smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

He tossed the phone onto his bed and leaned back against his pillow, his cheeks warming up with a sudden, unmistakable blush.

The image of her standing under the auditorium spotlights, singing so effortlessly, flashed in his mind again. For the first time since joining PVK, the competitive topper kid was completely lost in someone's eyes.

The commencement of the new semester brought a fresh timetable and brand-new subjects. During a short break between classes, Riya leaned over the desk, dropping a hot piece of departmental gossip.

"Suna hai Ragini mam aane wali hain Java programming ke liye. (I heard Ragini mam is going to take our Java programming lectures.)" Riya stated, tapping her pen.

Isha's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's great! Woh mam toh bohot acchi hain. Meri singing ke time bhi unhone mujhe bohot motivate kiya hai.

(Oh, that's great! That mam is really nice. Even during my singing performance, she motivated me a lot.)"

Riya gave her a highly skeptical, knowing look. "Tumhe toh acchi lagegi hi na, tum unki favorite jo ho! Kyunki tum cultural activities mein hoti ho.

(Of course you'll find her nice, you are her absolute favorite! Just because you participate in cultural activities.)"

Riya lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Suna hai woh students mein bohot partiality dikhati hain.

(I've heard she shows a lot of partiality among students.)"

Hearing this, Purvi instantly interrupted, shaking her head. "Nahi Riya, aisa nahi bolte. We really need to experience things ourselves before coming to such judgments."

Just then, the door opened, and Ragini mam walked in to commence the Java hour. The class quickly settled down. Ragini mam adjusted her glasses, scanned the room, and her eyes landed directly on Purvi.

"Since C language was already covered in Semester 1," Ragini mam began, her voice crisp, "I want to ask a foundational question. Purvi, stand up and tell me-what are static variables?"

Purvi stood up confidently, taking a breath. "Mam, static variables are..."
"Galat jawab! (Wrong answer!)" Ragini mam cut her off bluntly, not even bothering to listen to the rest of her sentence or let her finish the explanation.

Purvi froze in utter disbelief, completely trapped in an awkward flex as her mouth stayed half-open.

Seeing Purvi's completely stunned, soul-crushed face, Riya and Isha instantly lost all control. They buried their faces in their hands, their shoulders shaking violently as they started giggling hysterically.

It was that classic, unstoppable best-friend moment where once the laughter starts between Riya and Isha, it simply cannot be contained.

Ragini mam's eyes shifted over to their shaking shoulders. "Isha, beta, tum batao. (Isha, dear, you tell me.)"

Isha quickly stood up, but she was laughing so hard that she couldn't even form a proper sentence. She just stood there, her face red, letting out a muffled, breathless chuckle, completely unable to stop.

Ragini mam's face instantly softened into a warm, proud beaming smile. "Aa.. aa....Yes, yes! Correct! Very good, nice. Baith jao. (Sit down.)"

The entire class stared in absolute silence. Isha hadn't uttered a single word of the technical definition-she had literally just stood up and laughed!

The moment the professor concluded the hour and stepped out of the classroom, Isha and Riya completely burst out into loud, uncontrollable roars of laughter, clutching their stomachs.

Purvi turned around slowly, her face a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. "Haso mat daayano. Yaar! Yeh toh bohot partial hain! Riya, tumne bilkul sahi bola tha. Chudail kahein ki! Mujhe spot mein rakha jabki mein correct answer hi de rahi thi!

(Guys! Dont laugh devils.She is incredibly partial! Riya, you were absolutely right. What an absolute witch! She put me on the spot even though I was giving the exact correct answer!)"

Isha, still wiping a tear of laughter from her eye, tried to calm her down. ".Ab chudail toh mat bolo yaar unko! (Hey, come on, don't call her a witch!) She just has a little extra love for the cultural students, bas."

"Usi ko partiality bolte hain, madam! (That is the literal definition of partiality, madam!)" Purvi yelled back dynamically, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Tum unki favorite ho na, isliye tumhe samajh nahi aata! (You are her absolute favorite, that's why you don't understand the pain!)"

Riya just cackled loudly in the background, fully enjoying the chaotic and told purvi, "Kya bole? 'Experience karne se pehle judgment nahi banana chahiye'?"

Riya mocked playfully, throwing Purvi's own words right back at her. "Zaroori nahi ki har baat first-hand experience karke hi seekhi jaye, meri jaan! Ab samji"

("What did you say? 'We shouldn't judge before experiencing it ourselves'? It's not necessary to experience every single thing first-hand to learn a lesson, my dear! Got it now)

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See you all in Chapter 8! ✨
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